Chapter 1 : A Lazy Start
Everyone had left the other day
Leaving me behind as I would have it no other way
It had been nine years, since I last took this train
And here I was, gearing up to take it once again
She stood there with a forlorn look in her eyes, mindless of the crowd that hustled around her. The ten days had passed away in a flash and before we knew it, we found ourselves back at the Howrah station. It wasn’t the parting, but the uncertainty that troubled us. A loud whistle sounded in the distance and the passengers began to rush inside. The time had come, to bid adieu and I did so with a loving embrace. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she clutched my arm. So much to tell, yet words failed her as she stared into my eyes. If given a chance, she would have held me back. As I looked at her at that moment, I might have been unsure of a million things, but I was certain of one - she was the one. Never before had I fallen in love this way, never before had I let anyone this close. For someone hopeless at making friends, I knew I had made one for life. Someday soon, I said to myself as I stepped onto the ledge and turned to watch her wave.
A lightning struck nearby and the world dissolved into nothingness and in its place was set a new stage - a desolate path with a flickering lamp. There she was, standing where I had left her, but something was different. Mingled with her sadness was now an expression of disappointment. Why? I wondered and it took me a second to take note of the deathly silence that hung over the place. It was her voice that finally broke through - “Why didn’t you come? I waited for you ten long years, yet you never came.”
A chill ran down my spine as I grasped the meaning of her words. I tried to reason with her, but for some reason, my voice failed me. Another blinding bang and as it cleared, I found her standing just a few inches away. Everything seemed to have come to a halt as I watched a single tear streak down, traversing the contours of her face - a shiny droplet sparkling against the darkness that began to engulf the entire place. The lamp could do little to stop its progress and soon the world was drenched in complete darkness.
Where was she? I wondered and that’s when I heard her again, the disappointment apparent in her voice, “You missed our wedding. Why didn’t you come?”
I reached out blindly in a desperate attempt to find her, but all that remained was a soft echo, “Was it all a lie?” Those words got me thinking. What if it was? What if all those years were a figment of my imagination?
The AC was blaring at 16o Celsius and yet I was perspiring profusely. I wiped the sweat off my brow and sat up trying to search for my cell. The alarm had brought me back to reality and for once, I wasn’t complaining. This was the second day I had woken up after dreaming about leaving her at the platform. Why now? Why have such thoughts so close to the wedding? The last month had been the toughest in my life and I was getting tired of these recurring nightmares. The cell continued to wail incessantly and after two lazy attempts, I got hold of it and turned it off. It was 5:45 a.m., three hours before the scheduled departure of the Coromandel Express. On the screen flashed an unread message and I opened it hoping for some good news. Alas, it was a spam and I deleted it with a heavy sigh.
“Cheer up!” came a tiny voice from the optimistic part of me that had been fighting a losing battle for a while now. The only reason it hadn’t died out, was thanks to the lovely person in the photo in front of me. There she was, looking gorgeous like always while trying to force a big piece of cake into my mouth. The pic was taken on my 25th birthday and for a change, I was beaming at the camera instead of ducking for cover. It never failed to remind me of the lengths she went for a nobody like me and I couldn’t help but give a weak smile.
The walk to the washroom was a task and I had to drag myself to it. It was a sleepy reflection that greeted me and it took several splashes of water before things stopped appearing through slits. Next stop was the kitchen where I treated myself to a cup of coffee. A few sips were enough to start a chain reaction and in a minute I found myself sitting comfortably, browsing through a magazine. All that remained now was a nice bath. Until then, everything had been on schedule, but under the steamy downpour, it all went for a toss. I completely lost track of time and it would have been a blunder had it not been for my worried mother who decided to check up on me.
“Hellllooo…,” I managed a shivering response as a blast of cold air swept past. The conversation was brief and mostly revolved around my well-being and if I was fine. Her tone was of one tending to a patient and I couldn’t blame her, not after my sudden decision. If anything, I felt sorry for her. Because of me, she had to put up with the whispers that had started to spread. Everyone thought I was going crazy and tried their best to talk me out of it, but I had made up my mind. A lot had transpired and I couldn’t picture myself as part of a merry group on their way to a wedding. I needed some time off and somewhere it felt right to make a solo trip. There wasn’t much packing to be done and I had already filled my duffel bag the previous night. As I hurried out, my thigh banged against the table sending a packet that had been balancing precariously on the edge, flying. The impact had left our wedding invitations scattered on the floor and acting on an impulse, I crammed a few of them inside the bag. A quick glance at the clock told me I was late and I began to close all the windows and doors hurriedly. This dance lasted for five minutes and I zoomed down the staircase to the garage. Dinesh, our driver, was busy cleaning the car and on seeing me, he set the wipers back in their place and revved up the engine. Time was running out and in about an hour, the train was leaving with or without me.
Chennai had been receiving mild showers and today seemed no different with signs of imminent rain. A sense of tranquillity had prevailed over the city, making it a perfect weather to go for a jog. Offices and schools had remained closed under the threat of a cyclone, much to the delight of adults and kids alike. Here and there I could see a few newspaper vendors riding their cycle as they went door to door to deliver the papers. On the footpath were a few kids, each carrying a huge kit and on their way to the coaching camps. The deserted roads put me at ease and I sat back relaxed, wondering why I was panicking for no reason. The thought had barely passed when a few minutes later we began to slow down. Up ahead, several cars were stuck and what seemed like a temporary snag turned out far more serious. Fifteen minutes and we hadn’t moved an inch. Traffic jams made me restless and I sat there twiddling my ring, trying to remain calm. It was now 8:15 a.m., which meant I had only half an hour more. If things remained the way they were, I was surely going to miss the train.
“Let me see what the issue is,” Dinesh said and got out to make his way to the front.
He rushed back with the bad news, “There has been an accident involving a lorry.”
“Everyone is fine, right?” I asked hoping nothing gruesome had happened.
“Yes, they are. That ’Beku’ driver fell asleep behind the wheel. There is an auto stand on the other side. If you take one now, I am sure you will make it.” (Beku means stupid in Tamil)
“Perfect, I will take that,” I said. Sitting in the car and missing the train wasn’t an option for me.
“Will you be alright?” he asked worriedly. Even Dinesh was treating me the same way and I was getting tired of their unwanted concern.
“Don’t worry. I will manage,” I gave a curt reply that bordered rudeness and tried to make up for it by saying, “Don’t worry so much about me. I am fine Dinesh.”
“Take care and have a great wedding sir,” he said and handed me a tiny box. It looked pretty and knowing him, I knew it contained something far more valuable than what he could afford.
“What’s this?”
“A tiny present for your wedding sir.”
“You didn’t have to. Had it not been for the fact that you just became a dad two days ago, I would have dragged you to the wedding. Say Hi to little Arjun for me,” I said and jogged towards the auto stand avoiding the puddles on the way. A few meters ahead, I crossed the upturned lorry that had been the cause of the jam. It looked miserable lying there in a wrangled wreck, its parts dented beyond repair. It was sad to think that after having travelled thousands of kilometres, this was perhaps its last trip. Fresh skid marks had been etched onto the tarmac showing exactly where it all began. Sitting on the pavement was the driver, who appeared a little dazed but otherwise unharmed. He was wide awake now and was talking to the police officers at the scene. The driver was a lucky guy; had the truck slammed into the concrete, it could have been a fatal accident. Like a swarm of flies descending over food, there were several onlookers trying to take a peek at the wreckage. Most were being of no help and their presence was only worsening the situation. I moved on and began to enquire with the auto drivers. They were all keen on watching the accident than helping me out. Chennai was infamous for its notorious auto drivers and I had given up when a bearded man peeped out of his auto on the sideway and asked me to get in. I jumped inside before he could change his mind.
“Is everything alright sir?” he asked taking a look at my flustered face.
“Yes! Central Station, please. I am late,” I barked out my destination. I didn’t care about the cost. My priority was to catch the train.
“Don’t worry sir, it is only 5 minutes from here,” he replied in a reassuring tone. With nothing else to do, I began to take notice of my surroundings. The interiors gleamed and the seats felt new. On the dashboard was a photo of him alongside two kids and a lady in her late thirties. His prayer beads dangled against the side mirror as we sped on.
“Thanks boss. Everyone refused to come for such a short distance. If not for you, I would have had to reach there on foot.”
“Please don’t thank me. I don’t understand why they are like this. It is because of them we all get a bad name and then they wonder why taxi services are getting popular in Chennai.”
“Are those your kids?” I asked pointing at the photos.
“Yes. Allah has been kind to bless me with two kids – Bilal and Zoya.”
“They are really cute.”
“Thank you for your kind words. So are you going for a vacation, sir?” he asked
“It is my wedding in the coming days and that’s why I really need to catch this train.”
On hearing it, the driver gave the widest of smiles and shook his head, “This is a sweet coincidence. You see sir, it is my anniversary today. I was going to take an off, but my wife insisted I drive and I am glad she did.”
“Oh, congratulations. So have you been driving for long? Your auto seems new.”
“It has been just a year now,” he responded. The conversation then turned towards his past and how he was working in Dubai before circumstances forced him to head back. There wasn’t any remorse, rather a sense of gratitude that he had a loving family to head back to. It was a refreshing change to listen to him and if I wasn’t running late, I would have loved to hear his entire story. In a few more minutes we could see the Chennai Central approaching; a majestic building styled under the influence of Indo-Gothic architecture. For over 150 years, this building has served as a heritage landmark for Chennai (Madras earlier). When I was a little kid, it held a unique fascination for me and thought the Gateway helped people transport to another world altogether. I must have travelled several times through those arches, each time donning a different hat in my life - from a clueless kid, to a clueless student, to a clueless engineer, to a clueless lover. As it neared, it hit me that I was still clueless as ever. He parked the auto near the pavement, so I didn’t have to tread over any slush and as I got out he took a glance at the meter reading.
“Thirty rupees sir. You are my boni (first customer) and hence I don’t have the change to give you,” he said looking at the hundred rupee note I had in my hand.
I stood there gaping at him. He could have asked for any rate and I wouldn’t have had the time or patience to argue. Instead, he was quoting the exact meter fare, which I had assumed he had started it for namesake. Folks like him were a rarity to come by in Chennai.
“Please accept this as a thank you,” I said and offered the hundred rupee note. At first he refused to take it, but after some persuasion, he gave in.
“Thank you sir. Have a wonderful wedding,” he said as he pressed it to his forehead – a mark of gratitude to the Almighty for giving him his first earning. Without a pause or a glance, I broke into a run and zoomed past the main entrance. Seventeen minutes were all that I had before the train departed. I hurried along towards the screen that had all the information and a quick scan told me that Platform #9 was where I needed to head to. Chennai Central housed 12 dedicated platforms and Platform #9 was straight ahead. A waft of hot sambar drifted into my nostrils as I walked towards it. Instinctively I turned to my right and there it was, the famous restaurant known for its mini idlis and like always, it was jam packed. On any other day, I would have made a beeline to the joint, but today was not one of those. The train wasn’t going to wait and my stomach rumbled in anger of letting go of such a tasty opportunity. With over 24 bogeys, I had a long way to go before arriving at “S4”. The unreserved compartment was the first one to catch my attention. People had packed themselves inside and there wasn’t the tiniest bit of space for any sort of movement. Once you got in, it was almost impossible to get out and the very thought of being trapped made me shudder. I wouldn’t have survived an hour out there, let alone an entire day. Next were the AC compartments that stood out with their tinted glasses. As a college kid, I had always wanted to travel by the First Class (having heard some not-so innocent stories). Sadly, it still remained a dream. After a few minutes of dodging carts and frantic vendors, I found myself on my seat. It took a full two minutes for my panting to subside. Surprisingly, my fellow passengers were nowhere to be found. Perhaps they were all getting up at Vijayawada? I wished for my sake they made it. A journey without a few strangers to talk to was the worst thing that could happen to anyone.
(If it isn't too much to ask, please do take a minute or two to visit my website at http://authorpraveen.com )
