Parting ways

I was on the train today. Like every day. And every time I board a train, there's something interesting. Intriguing. Something I make a mental note of and think of penning down later. The later that seldom comes. But today, I am determined to make it happen! So, while I have noted, what I am going to narrate, about a zillion times in more than six years of train travel from Dombs to town and back, tonight is when I write about it.
I was on the train from Elphinstone Road to Bandra on my way to cover some local hockey tournament. At Dadar people streamed into the train, pushing and tugging at each other. Smelling each others' arm pits. Cursing each other. Kicking each other. Mocking each other. And then reconciling.
Oblivious to this tension was a girl wanting to stay at the edge of the gate way. She managed the crowd, managed her luggage and managed herself to stay put there. She wanted to steal one final glimpse at her lover on the platform. The final glimpse that will see her through the night. See her through the times when she would miss him.
She fixed her eyes on him as the crowd settled down. She then whispered something. He knew what she said. He whispered back. I'm not sure what the exchange of whispers meant amidst all the pandemonium. Maybe it wasn't meant for me to understand.
Then he asked her to move inside and take a seat. She denied. He asked her to hold on tightly to the metal rods above. She followed. He asked her to call him when she reached home safe. She nodded. She asked him to rush home. He stood there. He frowned as the train began crawling out of the platform. She wore a consoling smile that read, "It's alright. I'll see you again tomorrow."
Their eyes had this amazing chemistry. Some sort of a bond that didn't let go. For them, the people, the noise, the commotion -- the world -- didn't exist.
She watched him disappear. He saw her till he couldn't. She moved inwards looking for a seat. The little consoling smile disappeared. And she frowned.

And I looked away.