Leaving the Station

 A rough day at work. Correction – another rough day at work. Listening to stupid supervisors, directing the laborious labourers, and uploading everything on the sluggish system – this train journey was a break blessing from the hell that was my life of being a junior construction engineer.

As always, I was stuck at work for longer than expected and had to rush through the train station crowd. I had so dearly wanted to pick a Dhruv comic book on my way but then I would have surely missed the train. With a slight regret, I made my way to my seat – only to find the entire lower berth occupied by a family. “Uncle, this is my seat. Can you check your ticket once? I am sure there has been a mistake,” I said to the man who was busy eating a banana.

“Yes, it could be your seat. We will sit here for some time and, once the train starts, we will be on our way. Our seats are too crowded right now. Just let us finish our lunch,” he said calmly and took another bite of his banana. For lunch.

I sighed, looked around for a place to sit and found one on the side lower berth. I did not want to miss out on the fun of looking out at the neighbouring train when the train started moving – its slowness kept one guessing about which one was moving.

“Are you always this kind or just too silly to believe that they will leave?” In my eagerness to observe the trains, I had not noticed the girl sitting opposite to me. She continued reading her comic book even while I struggled to make sure that she was talking to me. It was a Nagraj comic book and I felt slightly jealous.

“They’ll leave, right?” I turned my gaze away from her to see the man take out his chappals, and get comfortable by folding his legs under him. The banana was in its last stage.

“Of course, they will. Once they reach their destination,” she replied as she turned a page, “Just ask them to leave. Unless you plan to sit on my seat for the entire journey, which, frankly, is out of the question,” she smiled.

“Can you guess which train is moving right now?” I asked her – as I saw the other train move, or was it ours that was leaving?

She looked at me oddly, narrowing her eyes as she shook her face, “Just look at the wheels?”

Instinctively, I saw our train’s wheels moving and thought, ‘What a killer of joy! The idea is not to look at the wheels.’ I saw the girl place her comic book, still open but face down, on her backpack as she stood up and left. I noticed that her backpack was exactly like mine, except for a little keychain of the Hulk dangling by the zip on its side pocket. What a character!

Meanwhile, my berth’s colonizer was collecting his family’s banana peels in a plastic bag and was shoving it under my berth. I returned to look out of the window – it was time to enjoy the backward flow of numbers on the poles near the station. 37… 36… 35…

“These ones?” I heard a man say as he pointed at the family. The girl, who had spoiled my guess-the-moving-train game gave a little nod, and the ticket checker immediately asked the occupant family to show their tickets. The banana guy tried to reason with him but, eventually, all of them stood up to leave. “Take your trash along,” said the girl as she got back to reading her Nagraj ka Badla. The man looked at her in anger, picked up the plastic bag, and shepherded his family away.

“That was well done,” I picked up my backpack, kept it on my now-empty berth and took my seat while smiling at the girl.

“You should have done that yourself. And you are welcome,” I was getting used to this sarcastic tone.

“Oh yes, thanks. I didn’t know it would work like that. Did you have to bribe him?” I asked her while taking out my wallet.

“Not everything works on bribes. Sometimes, you just have to act,” she said, still refusing to get her eyes away from the comic book.

The view outside the window from my berth’s side was not so engaging – just plain grounds and meaningless trees. I had lost count of the poles of course. Nagraj’s queen had cost me the thrill of two games now.

I was about to take my earphones out of my backpack when I saw the Hulk keychain dangling in its side pocket. Oh no! Nagraj lady was surely going to spit venom at me now. Just as I picked it up to return it to her, my eye was caught by the envelope peeking out of the bag’s front pocket. I recognized its peculiar pink and that offensively filthy floral design. I immediately picked up the backpack, approached the girl, and said, “Excuse me. I am sorry but I picked your bag by mistake.” She took the bag and kept it behind her. As I continued to stand next to her, she simply looked at me and raised her eyebrows in question.

“Are you going to Delhi for Unnati’s wedding?” I asked.

“You had no courage to talk to the ticket checker but you had enough of it to go through my bag?” she asked as she snapped shut the adventures of Nagraj.

“Wait, wait. I didn’t go through your bag. I just saw that ugly invitation card in its front pocket,” I said pointing at the bag.

She looked back at her bag and said calmly, “Hmm, yes. I am going to Unnati’s wedding. More like Bipin’s wedding. I mean I am going from the groom’s side.”

“Do you mind giving Nagraj a break? I have something to tell you about Unnati and standing in this passage is a bit awkward,” I said. The train had come to a random halt – quite usual with Indian trains.

We were soon sitting next to each other. “Well, so… before I start,” I said as I took out the same invitation card from my backpack, “I am going to the same wedding. Unnati happens to be my ex. And I don’t know how to put it mildly but she is a horrible person!”

“Wait, you’re going to your ex’s wedding?” she asked looking at me in amusement.

“I know how it seems but her family is like a friend of my family’s and I am going as the representative. But if you are the friend of the groom’s, I thought I’d let you know about Unnati - an attempt to save him? Consider it as a favour for what you did for me, maybe.” I left my words hanging.

“Well, this is awkward. Bipin is not my friend. He is my ex,” she let out a loud laugh, “And thank you for letting me know that Unnati is his perfect match. How I’d love to see them both suffer! I am Preksha, and you are…?” she asked.

The train’s wheels were set into motion.