She could not have been more than eight. Yet the girl displayed the athletism of someone who has undergone training for a long period of time.
The entire crowd in the train watched, mesmerised, as the little girl did backflips, somersaults and put her small body through an even more smaller loop and all the while, showed no signs of any physical discomfort or pain.
All the eyes in the train were on the little girl. Except one pair.
The mother, playing a steady rythm on a worn out drum, was resolutely looking outside at the fast moving shrubs. Her eyes were filled with tears.
One did not have to look anywhere else for signs of the little girl's pain. It was right there, in the mother's eyes.