Lady in the train

I have been to this railway station a number of times during the four years of my stay in Chennai but this time the feeling is different.As I am standing here, every second is drowning me to the good –bad, sweet-bitter memories of my college life. My friends in college, the first time we bunked classes, the college fests, the election drama, the pranks played on the professors, the race for the girlfriends. The entire film is running before my eyes. I may never come back here again. Getting a degree is beautiful but the emotions attached to those four years are too beautiful to be described in words.

As I waved my hand to say the last goodbye to my friends, I never looked so intensely at their faces. Somehow I controlled that drop of tear which was about to roll down to edge of my upper lip just like in those Shah Rukh khan movies where protagonist never cries because he is the hero. And if he does, the Indian audience does not accept him as they are too concerned about their macho image. Though the way to the railway station was quite near from my college, just a five minutes affair but today it took us twenty minutes to cover the same distance.

My journey from a shy, docile boy to a quick witted and frank dude was full of excitement, fun and thrill. Suddenly, a loud whistle stuck my ears. As the train approached nearer, the mob got divide in small groups and condensed at the gates. I too picked up my luggage and entered the coach struggling through the crowd. I checked the seat number and quickly adjusted the luggage in the luggage box. Meanwhile, I heard a tiring voice asking for help. I turned back to the octogenarian lady. She was a few steps away from me. I went ,saw her ticket, held her hand and luggage and brought her to my seat. I fixed her luggage opposite to my seat as she moved her hand on my head. She murmured something in Tamil.

Another whistle, train was all set to leave. Myriad emotions enveloped the station. Old lady seemed very interested in scene. She stuck to the window. Leaving the city busy, the train gradually picked up the speed. She shifted her eyes from the platform to me as she removed her red spectacles to clear the glasses.

“Lot of hearts welcomed me  when I had put my first step in this city at the age of 15 as a bride but today not even one is interested to perform duties or at least the formalities. Out of my four boys , none asked me where I was going?”,the old lady said in frustration.

I did not find the appropriate words to console her. So, I decided to sit quietly.

“Life gives its share of deservings to each one of us at a justified time and don’t even give time to complain, huh!! ” , she said

I simply nodded my head in approval this time as I felt the need and pressure to make a gesture and also because I still could not find the right words. She gazed at the novel in my hand and asked the name of the novel. I avoid telling the name for  the fact that she may not understand English. I tried to settle her curiosity with a monotonous reply“story book”.

I did not realise when the cold vibes threw me into sleep. It was around 8 p.m  that I realised  that a rough hand was touching my cheek and the voice was breaking. She was asking me to fill the water bottle from the next station. I did when the train stopped at the next station for two minutes unwillingly though as I had no reason to say no. Meanwhile I also cared for my luggage. Those two minutes were like hell. I came back thinking why the hell had I agreed. But everything was fine. I decided to stay away from her for I might lose some of my stuff in this social service. I developed a kind of animosity against her for no perfect reason.

It was around 9.15 p.m. the relaxing tone of the train tearing the wind was like that sweet song which brings relief and a perfect soothing environment to sleep. One of the reasons I slept early was to avoid the old “lady in the train”. Last time I checked my luggage and looked at her. She was covering a black n white blanket which seemed to be opened for the first time. I could even smell the fragrance which is generally there in the new clothes. That night was colder than I had thought. I had picked only a light blanket from my bag. I was shivering but was not conscious enough to take the second one from the bag.

Next day , I woke up to go for the private business. I was shocked for three reasons. First, the seat opposite to mine was empty. This was a relief though until I made the second observation .Second , now I was enveloped in that new black n white blanket and third , a note in my novel as I looked on my side. The note was not  a big surprise but the note written in English was definitely a big surprise. I felt small, very small. I felt guilty for my behaviour. Now I could not even think of compensating for my behaviour with today’s social service as she was gone. And the note in English will always remain a mystery.