Sneha thinks to herself- Damn! No one ever gave her a special nickname. Not out of love, not out of affection, not even out of spite! Even an inanimate object has a nickname, for God’s sake! She feels more worthless than a piece of junk. Money makes people do crazy things, she mutters while hunting for a needle. You can’t buy only people with money; actually, wait, maybe you can. Doesn't Tommy Shelby tell his girl in Peaky Blinders? “Everyone’s a whore, Grace. We just sell different parts of ourselves.” That feeling of finding something common in the syllabus of her life makes her forget the annoyance of the missing needle for a second. Sneha shouts to herself, Yes, Muhtarama, you’re a bit of a whore yourself! She tries to figure out what she’s sold in her life. A second later, it hits her- Self-respect! Damn! She’s the Queen of Whores, then!