The lady in the train

The train was gaining momentum and the slow rumble of the metal over metal softened. The distance was closing with each moment that passed. Clad in a black chiffon scarf, she was engrossed into the colors of nature. I saw her. She was beautiful. She must be in her late twenties. Those big black eyes seemed fascinated by the herd of goats that passed by. She sat by the window, still, and kept gazing at them till they faded away. She seemed restless. A little playful child tugged at her oblivious of her thoughts and seemed amused at something. There was a sharp honking now and then that broke her chain of thoughts.

I looked outside the rusty frame. We were moving over a river. The water shimmered under the scorching sun like little diamonds strewn all around hidden under the short green shrubs that had never grown tall. They had failed badly.

It had been raining. I had forgotten an umbrella but it didn’t matter. The scheduled time of arrival was 12:05 and I had no time to go back. I got into the taxi and headed for the airport. Drenched into the warmth of the taxi, I couldn’t smile. A serpentine, black slithering, gnawing at me, looked deep through me; it knew the darkness in me. I shuddered.

I had just woken up when you had called. I am coming.

‘Could you please shift a little?’ the lady asked. It was growing dark and we squirmed into an unknown land. The diamond on her finger sparkled.

‘You have a beautiful child.’

She smiled and her eyes dampened. She said nothing but in that very moment her eyes were screaming. She settled back to her nothingness. I stared at her with a piercing gaze, what was she thinking? She obviously should be a lot happier than she appeared.

It was 4 years back. I hadn’t seen you for quite some time now. I missed you.

There is something about the sanguine human minds. They have desires. They aspire to hold hands with their dreams and come face to face with what they once coveted.

The taxi had stopped at the signal and it had stopped raining. I saw the folder in my hand and clutched it tightly. I did not know what to tell you. But I knew you will understand. We can’t be together anymore. I needed to get away.

Does love end? Or does it just chide behind the needs and becomes a figurine of total dependency? Maybe it is just a psychological need and demands the people involved to be physically present. It cripples us and sometimes acts as a driving force. Sometimes it motivates and sometimes it just makes you feel helpless. Or are we getting too mechanical to understand the basics? It’s not just about the carnal desires, or is it? How does the human brain function?

We are but, just another organism on the earth and the sine qua non remains same for all.

Madam, we are at the airport. Should I wait or leave?

I saw you coming out. There was a smile on your face. You came rushing to me and embraced me like never before.

What’s the matter? You seem lost.

There’s something we need to talk. I need to say something. This isn’t working and I think we better get separated. Here’s the ring. I saw it in your eyes. You knew this was coming sooner or later. We loved each other no doubt about that but we had our own dreams. It had taken me 25 years to build everything and I couldn’t let it go. Neither could you.

That was the last hug we had had and you just left. The iniquitous part of me wanted to run and hold you from behind and never let go. I wished I had.

Madam, ticket please. The train was moving through farmlands and I could see the petty workers guarding the fields and trying to ease the boredom by singing some folk songs.

I wanted to talk to her. She seemed to have a lot going on in the insides of her mind. Her silence was very disturbing.

Where are you headed? I tried to break the ice.

I am going to meet my husband. I saw no excitement on her face. Taking this conversation any further would definitely be vicious. I stopped.

Was getting estranged after all a selfish decision that I had made? There are so many couples out there who try to work on the long distance relationship and juggle their way forward. I looked at her. She was young and beautiful and obviously trying to fight the odds but she seemed tired. But then, is it just about survival? Just trying to keep your head above the water? Is the struggle worthwhile?

It was 5 am in the morning; the train pulled into the Delhi borders and came to a halt at the New Delhi station. Soon the clouds will give way to the morning sun and the red hue would make the city glow.

I looked at her. She mechanically collected all her stuffs, held the child and walked out. I followed suit. I walked behind her as if I was pulled by some force.

And then I saw it. The diamond was so familiar.

This lady would have been me had I not made my mind 4 years back. The light broke and the there was a huge chirping of morning birds. I got all my answers. There was a smile on my lips as I headed towards my Hotel.

Passengers-My story that began on a night

It had been raining heavily that afternoon. Dad was persistent that I should not go but I insisted.

AI-890 Ranchi- Delhi-Mumbai

Leaving home is never a good feeling even after you have been in and out for more than 6 years now. Somewhere it always aches and you can only fathom the vexation when you are away. It’s been 7 days and the warmth of my city was still not ready to leave. I wanted to stand there and look at the sky; my empyrean of my dreams, my people, my land. I wanted to take in the aroma and drown in the feeling of home-ness.

Mom please I want to take admission in Mumbai. I want to go away from home. I was 18 and I wanted liberation. That was 6 years ago.

Passengers are requested to move towards the boarding area. Boarding has begun for Flight AI-890 for Delhi. The announcement brought me back from the bi-lanes of reminiscence.

I bid goodbye to my ever teary eyed parents. Parents and their love for children!

The air was thin and there were heavy turbulence outside. The rumbling air-craft did scare many a soul. The gravity of situation was known only when we were told that the flight was being re-routed to Jaipur and suddenly we were passengers to a different destination. The weather was very uncertain and unpredictable.

Life is just like a journey through the turbulence.

There is always something good about the journeys. You make acquaintances and it’s good to see people opening up to one another. After all we are humans. I could hear little murmurs that turned into giggles and then an outcry about time. They were buoyant & innocent people around. Look deeply into every eye and there is a story; story of love, grief, triumphant, failure. It’s a different story each time.

They were passengers and I was one of them. Whatever might have been going in our lives, this was one moment when we had similar needs. One situation was binding us all together. We were united and this union was resonating the humanity that is deeply seeded in us beneath the layers of muck.

People come together in times of grief.

A 4 hour journey stretched to 11 hours. We left for Delhi and around 2 AM I reached Mumbai. It had been raining and my bed was all that I desired. I looked around. It was middle of the night and everything and everybody was in a cocoon except for the hustle of passengers who had de-planed at CSIA. They were happy faces, distressed by the turn of events. This will get antiquated soon, I know.  7 hours into the day, they will be telling stories. I smiled and moved away.

Excuse me, where do we get autos from?

The voice was humble and I looked back. Something was in that moment, in those eyes.

I showed him the way and to my surprise we were passengers to the same destination; in reality and in life. I offered him a ride and in those 15 minutes that we were together, our hearts ached. It wanted to scream with ecstasy.

It is funny, how life throws happiness in crumbs and bits, isn’t it?  I have been in relationships before. I have sailed through rough sea and smooth ripples. I have seen the horizon turn blue and orange.

Let’s meet; and thus started a new beginning. Once a co-passenger on board AI-890, was now a companion in life. Maybe my heart wanted that.

We kept meeting and life was good. I was basking into the colors of rainbow. I was exhilarated. But life kicks you when you least expect it to. I realized that we hardly spoke. And when we did, it only had him into the center. He was plagiarized by self obsession. He did not love me as an individual but the pleasures of our bodies hitting together. He was addicted and sick.

Suddenly, the humble voice that came from behind turned coarser. The pink and orange all turned grey slowly. It was all but a piece of lie. Time had unearthed the truth. It was a fine web and I was being strangled. He was a compulsive liar. And respect was a foreign language. Commitment, a farfetched dream! I was just another achievement in his life; a trophy that he could shove into the face of people who questioned him on why his first relationship did not work. I defy to be objectified.

You cannot breakup at such trivial issues. Adjust and compromise why won’t you? You know how I am.

He couldn’t accept being dumped. It was a blow to his male chauvinist heart. He felt I would never leave, he is a successful man and women need financial security. True that is to one extent but he forgot that one, who builds her security, is the women of heart that’s rock solid. The unwavering attitude that she bears keeps her alive and confident.

I am not the weakling. I will not let you hurt me.

I looked around, and I found myself aboard the same flight. Flight to uncertainty!

I looked around. Masks! Every face had a mask. Look deeper and you can see the dark tanned skin. The stories that I was reading a while ago, were stories built against lies, deceit and treachery. They were beautiful faces all masked up. Truth lay hidden.  That night had changed so much of my perspective towards life. The chain of events that had triggered had taught me lessons.

Don’t go today. Weather is not good for travelling. Wish I had taken his advice.

Life is a journey and we meet people as we cross milestones. Some tread a mile along; some are faint silhouettes fading behind. But the underline is that we have to keep moving irrespective of the hurt. And as I said, look into the eyes and it’s always a different story. This was my story of the night. My eyes will be full of suspicion.

The understatement is that we are Passengers to our own destination.