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Rehash of my Old Stories #2


Gift

Authorspeak: I first started writing it in 2003. I distinctly remember the cover page of the notebook in which this idea first found its foothold. However, I could not complete it. Some of my friends who had read the draft wanted it to be completed though – Sougata can now be a happy man (if he remembers this story). I have tried several times in last 7 years to complete it but none of those efforts could take it to its culmination. Finally when I have completed this story, I do not feel jubilant – I only feel relieved. I still believe that I could have shaped it much better if I had completed it in my first effort. Though it belongs to the category of short story – it has become long for a blog post (4004 words to be precise). Thus, I am splitting it in 3 subparts for the convenience of blog readers. I would still like it to be read in one go but I think it is too much to ask for.

Gift – Part 1
I looked at my watch in resignation. The train was already late by more than two hours and there had been no information flow regarding its possible arrival. I had already made two trips to the enquiry counter only to get a trained answer – ‘Pata chalte hi announce kar denge (We will announce the same once we get to know about the timings)’. One does not expect Indian Railways to run on time especially during winters. The least they can do is to keep the passengers apprised of the situation. 

It was a chilly day. As the temperature plummeted to a new low, most people preferred to stay within the comforts of their homes. The fact that it was a holiday also helped them in sticking with the choice. But I was not that lucky - I had to venture out for an important professional trip. In fact, you can also tag it as one of the most important trips in my small but eventful career. I looked around. Despite the weather, the platform was abuzz with activities. Passengers and those who had accompanied them (I prefer to call them ‘see off troupe’) were braving the cold breeze in the company of their winter wears. Those who could afford were flaunting expensive brands while there were also a few who had only ‘ragged something’ to shield themselves from the cruel winds. This disparate crowd, however, was unanimous in its choice of beverages – Tea stalls owners were having a field day. Even the ‘Poori-Sabji’ & ‘Pakoda’ stalls were doing brisk business. It was almost lunch time and I could feel the rats warming up in my stomach. And though the food items on the platform stalls were quite inviting, I could not fall for their charm after being diagnosed for a liver ailment recently. I had to look for a better alternative but the uncertainty over the train’s arrival was severely restricting my options. And then came the breather – the announcement system on the platform crackled and came to life after a very long time. ‘Patna bound Saadharan Express would arrive on platform number 5 at 1:45 pm. We are sorry for the inconvenience.’ I had more than half an hour at my disposal. I decided to invest that into pacifying my hunger. 

When I returned, train was already stationed at the platform. I felt relieved. I glanced through the passenger chart before boarding the train. It is an old habit – started in my teens primarily to gauge the potential of ‘bird watching’ but as I matured it was more to know about my fellow co-passengers. Yes! Even reservation chart can provide you sufficient initial information about a person – you just need to have a trained instinct. 

‘B1?’ I asked the person standing at the gate even though I knew the coach number (Old habits die hard!!). He nodded in affirmation. Passengers in the coach were still settling down at their seats. However, none had arrived to claim my neighbouring seats. I decided to take rest as the train was scheduled to make a halt at my destination in the early hours of next morning. So, I hopped into my designated upper berth and waited for lady sleep to seduce me with her charms. She did not make me wait for long. As she came and embraced me in her arms, I could feel passengers settling in the berths below.

Dreams have always fascinated me – more so, after the release of Christopher Nolan’s Inception. And even without knowing the technicalities of dreaming, I have always loved the dream world. Colours of a more vibrant life explode in this world. So, you can fight the evils and be the savior of mankind; you can transcend the laws of physics – move across timelines; woo beautiful ladies and destroy the armies at the slightest movement of your fingers; enjoy the beauty of mountains, rivers, fountains, lush green fields and what not – you can be at prairie in one moment and in alps the next. In this particular instance, I was enjoying the final of a Cricket World Cup (between India and Pakistan) when someone just pushed me out of the stadium. I woke up in start only to find the TTE looking for my ticket. I scrambled to find my ticket and finally produced it to the TTE. Content that I was travelling on a valid ticket, he moved on to other passengers. I checked my watch – It was nearing 5 pm. I slept for almost 3 hours!! 

I descended and took my designated seat at the side of the lower berth passing the customary pleasantry smiles at my co-passengers. The couple sitting by my side was newlywed (part observation and part information gathered from the passenger chart). They looked like a perfect pair – the kind for which you develop an instant liking. And they were adorable – they offered me some snacks (within minutes after I sat) which I politely declined (After the recent spurt in criminal activities on trains, I prefer to be more cautious). The side berths were occupied by an old couple who seemed to be quite content with their life. The lady was engrossed in a magazine while the man was enjoying the music on his music player. While the duo sitting by my side was busy holding each other’s hand, I was drawn towards an interesting discussion taking place between the two middle aged men sitting on my opposite berth. They were discussing topics like inflation, corruption, international geo politics at one go with ease and authority. I wanted to join the discussion but for some unknown reason resisted and remained an interested audience.

Suddenly I felt a gaze at me. In a movement of my eyes, I identified the source – ‘she’ was looking at me with a somewhat curious eyes. Sitting just opposite to me, she quickly looked the other way. A few moments later, I again found her passing furtive glances at me. She again looked the other way when it became evident that I had ‘caught’ her. I was beginning to enjoy this game. And why wouldn’t I? She was beautiful – a strand of her locks was on her face making her look ethereal. She was in her early twenties and probably was related to the man sitting in the middle of the opposite berth. Her face had turned crimson with the knowledge that she was caught in her act. In a desperate attempt to salvage the situation, she passed a smile at me. And as those dimples settled on her face, I wondered how beautiful would she look while laughing. She was elegantly dressed in a Salwar suit and a vibrant coloured cardigan. And when our eyes met next, in another of her futile attempts to look at me, I could not resist and said ‘You have a beautiful face and a very bright future.’
‘What?’ she looked stunned by this comment.

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