While lining up the shot I noticed a woman in her thirties with a skirt showing her beautiful chunky legs.She looked over to me like she was caught in...the headlights. I got nervous and looked away. She continued walking and I got that awful feeling of sensing an opportunity walking away. There was something in her slow walk and short skirt and the look that she had given me that made me feel like it was okay to go and talk to her. As lame as it was I decided to ask for directions. I knew. Her husband is working in the USA. She stays with her 2-year-old son, father-in-law, mother-in-law and a divorced aunt in Mumbai. I am writing this experience after getting her consent. After posting my story on ISS in 2015, I got many emails from readers. Nisha sent me a message on hangouts and later we shared our pictures over email. She was not getting time to respond quickly in the beginning but later on, we started talking regularly day and night. Her husband was coming to India only once. "Tasha, listen to me, just because the portal isn't answering doesn't mean Whit's dead. He could be..." It's been three days, Elizabeth. Three days! And not one word." She stopped in her tracks. Her arms fell to her sides in sorrow, as tears trickled down her cheeks. "What am I going to do without him?" Whit's dead?"They both turned to see one little Miranda Valderrama listening to their conversation from the doorway, her lower lip quivering.Arms open wide, Elizabeth called to her in Spanish.. And only a short while later, I discovered that the plane we had been on crashed on landing. All because of the Great Shift. Thinking about the Shift was fairly strange after so long, and a lot of the edge was gone from it. After all, I wasn't that person anymore and hadn't been since that day. Of course, nearly everyone had been confused about what the Shift meant for the world, and their sense of identity. I like many chose to focus on the now, not the past. On who I was... not who I had.