Train
journeys are always nostalgic. They remind me of the time I travelled from
Secunderabad to Warangal during my Bachelors at Osmania University. I was
always excited to go home. I used to buy my monthly share of magazines and boarded the train. Sitting by the window was
a privilege. Most of the times I used to sit close to some bulky frame aunty
and butt wars used to take place to conquer the narrow space. A constant
chatter could be heard all along the journey, someone talked to somebody else
about politics, movies or personal problems. It was surprising how freely
people opened up to strangers, befriended them over the course of two hours and
sought their advice. Little kids always cried. Their shrill voice rose over the
din of the compartment. Intermittently, I used to raise my head from the book
and see the green canopy outside the window, the flashing away telegraph posts
and listen to the train horn and the rhthymic sound made by the metallic wheels
on the track. I used to see one, two, three storied red, blue, pink, brown
concrete houses and the people residing in those houses used to look out
through the windows with cold stares. We were moving away taking along with us a
piece of their personal space. Little girls and boys who played close to the
houses had a positive disposition. They waved their hands to make a two second
span friends.
This journey
unlike all my other ones was a special one, because this is the last journey as
a Ms., as a single woman. The train stopped at Secunderabad station. I was
sitting in an AC coach. I looked outside my window which was both sound proofed
and wind proofed. I saw a group of college students huddled together along with
their bags and sharing a newspaper. I saw a little girl with curly hair
skipping along with her grandmother and the curls rippled away. I saw a mother
putting an earring in her daughter’s ears, and she was crying. Her cries hit my
window and became noiseless. I perused the platform within my view but there was
no sight of him. I was looking out for that distinguishable face in a hundred
other indistinguishable ones, made special because of the relationship we will
share.
I heard a
familiar, ‘hello’ and saw him in my compartment. I was excited to see him after
a gap of five days, which passed away like five eons. Every moment that I
missed him, brought with it overbearing fleeting memories of him. Those
memories danced around me, tantalizingly, always escaping my reach. A flood of
emotions materialized in the present moment, stealing away the words from my
mouth and silence ruled.
We went to a
place away from the prying eyes which tried to figure out our relationship. I
sat close to him, close enough to see him, far enough to touch him. I asked him,
When did you wake up?’. He replied, ‘At 3:45 AM’, I ask him, ‘Why?’. He
replied, ‘You see the power went off. So I had to wake up. I had to pick up
grandma and grandpa at the station, so I came here early. On top of it their
train was late so I had to wait in the station. I was supposed to arrive at 5
AM’.
I look down
onto the tracks through the window. A kid’s red colored tooth brush lied on the
tracks. I wondered if the kid threw it willfully to trouble the mother. My
thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of his phone. He picks up and says,
‘Where are
you?’
‘How do I
know why the train was late?’
‘Maybe it
was all the luggage that you put in it that has slowed it down’
‘Call me
when you reach’
He looks at
me and we both smile. He says,’ What else?’ The phone answers to his question.
He picks up
and says, ‘I am here in the train with your daughter-in-law’
‘Ok’
‘Ok. I will
talk to you later’
‘Yes, we
will talk later’
He puts the
phone down. He takes my hand into his and looks at my watch.
I say, ‘It
is fast by five minutes’. He says, ‘What is the point running ahead of time
when you know that you doing that?’ I smile. The clock ticks away and grabs the
precious seconds and minutes with vicious pleasure. I tell him, ‘You should
start’. He says, ‘Grandma and grandpa’s train has not come yet. I will leave
after your train moves from the platform.
I look at a
young woman who wore a pink colored top and pale blue jeans, reading a paper
and also stealing glances in our direction. He looked at her too and said, ‘She
is reading the paper as though she is preparing for an exam.’
We looked at
each other. He says, ‘I am excited for tomorrow. I reply, ‘Me too’
‘I will see
you in a semi-bride outfit tomorrow for the engagement’
‘Yes, in a
traditional dress’
My train
has’nt started yet. We were late by ten minutes. He said, ‘My will power has
stopped the train’.
I ask him,
‘Will we meet today?’
He says, ‘What
plans do we have for today?’
‘I have to
go to a beauty parlor.’
‘When?’
‘In the
afternoon.’
‘We will
meet in the evening. We will steal some time and go around’
‘In
Warangal? There will be nothing much to do’
‘Yes. We will figure something out’
I got onto
the train and waved him a goodbye. He looks at me longingly. I tell him, ‘I
love you’. All the words that remained inside me during the conversation, I
wanted to truly say them. He smiles and leaves. I go to my seat.
I kept on
looking through the train window even after he left. The group of boys used the
newspaper to sit on the platform and a few of them opened their laptops. I
resumed reading Ruskin Bond’s, ‘Night Train at Deoli and other stories’. My
fiance’s will power was so strong that the train got delayed by an hour.