It was dusk. The sky had a saffron tinge that was slowly being engulfed by the grey demon of darkness. The day’s heat was conquered by the spring time breeze, which sent waves of relief through my body. Tinkles of bells could be heard from the distance as Bahus offered their evening prayers to the Gods.
I was roaming about in the platforms of the railway station. Being posted in a small township of Bengal, this was the only entertainment I had. Not a railway officer by choice, the only part of the job I liked was watching the trains whistle by the station. I observed people keenly when a train stopped. Some seemed to be in hurry. Some were equally nonchalant, snoring away in glory as others complained about the scorching heat that plagued this part of the country.
Thoughts broke away in a blow of a whistle. A long distance train was supposedly going to stop in the station. It slowly inched in and stopped with a screech. I looked through the window in front of me.
The person I saw was a lady in her early twenties. She was silent, staring outside the window; but eyeballs focused something far away. She was lost in some thought that made her lips part in the shape of a smile. I stayed breathless as I kept staring towards her face. I felt I had known her for years, and wanted to talk to her. But I could hardly budge.
And in a few minutes, with another whistle that brought me to my senses, the train was gone.
And after that, scanning the trains became daily affair for me. She was bound to come back. And if she does, this time I will not miss the chance. I became impatient, started behaving strangely at home as my thoughts reverberated around that smiling face day and night. And then I saw her again after a fortnight.
The train on return halted at a similar time that day. And there she was in front of my eyes, but this time in a different way. She was in red draperies typical for a bride, with layers of gold ornaments adorning her neck. She had gone to marry and was now returning home after the auspicious occasion.
She was silent, staring outside the window; eyeballs focused on me this time. But her mind hardly registered anything as she was still trying to habituate herself with the new circumstances. I stayed breathless as I kept staring towards her face, until the whistle was blown!
The train moved out of the station slowly, leaving behind layers of smoke that made the evening even darker.
I was roaming about in the platforms of the railway station. Being posted in a small township of Bengal, this was the only entertainment I had. Not a railway officer by choice, the only part of the job I liked was watching the trains whistle by the station. I observed people keenly when a train stopped. Some seemed to be in hurry. Some were equally nonchalant, snoring away in glory as others complained about the scorching heat that plagued this part of the country.
Thoughts broke away in a blow of a whistle. A long distance train was supposedly going to stop in the station. It slowly inched in and stopped with a screech. I looked through the window in front of me.
The person I saw was a lady in her early twenties. She was silent, staring outside the window; but eyeballs focused something far away. She was lost in some thought that made her lips part in the shape of a smile. I stayed breathless as I kept staring towards her face. I felt I had known her for years, and wanted to talk to her. But I could hardly budge.
And in a few minutes, with another whistle that brought me to my senses, the train was gone.
And after that, scanning the trains became daily affair for me. She was bound to come back. And if she does, this time I will not miss the chance. I became impatient, started behaving strangely at home as my thoughts reverberated around that smiling face day and night. And then I saw her again after a fortnight.
The train on return halted at a similar time that day. And there she was in front of my eyes, but this time in a different way. She was in red draperies typical for a bride, with layers of gold ornaments adorning her neck. She had gone to marry and was now returning home after the auspicious occasion.
She was silent, staring outside the window; eyeballs focused on me this time. But her mind hardly registered anything as she was still trying to habituate herself with the new circumstances. I stayed breathless as I kept staring towards her face, until the whistle was blown!
The train moved out of the station slowly, leaving behind layers of smoke that made the evening even darker.
8 comments:
Thats wat I call 'ek choti is love story'.. nicely penned... Blogging is fun!
short and sweet.. khub bhalo..
u've so beautifully portrayed with words, both the love and the loss..
must say, a very good start :)
Dude.. Dat was amazing... Keep em coming!!!
Nice post! Kept it sharp and simple :)
I guess some of the most memorable memories would come across your when you hear that whistle again.....Nicely penned
good!
hmmm....good to see a management guy trying his hands in literature.....keep it up......
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