Stolen Moments

                     

Shyam, a newspaper guy checked the time, ‘oh its 8:10. I am late, I should have delivered paper to “Aalap” by now’ he engrossed in thoughts and started striding. His feet stopped as he reached commodious white bungalow. Every morning he sees it, he is implicated in peering enormity and its magnificence as well. He found it equally amazing every time.

He pulled thick thread of bell, the bell was jangling. It was real bell which is generally used in school and at temples. He still remembered how amused he was when he had heard that chime for first time. Shyam was waiting for her to open the door, meanwhile he was peering the nameplate. It was unlike others but very artistic. Name was written using musical notations… though it was tough to recognize it at glimpse, it was innovative.

Left Alone

Its a beautiful & touching poem penned by Kaustubh Hile. on the background of  my story "The 09:05 CST Local". It summarizes the whole story in a perfect poetic rhythm leaving you mesmerized.

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While travelling in a train,
In a light drizzling rain.
An unknown person,
Asked me a question.
Do you believe in true love??

I ignored him,
He asked again.
I avoided him,
He made eye contact.

Finally, I answered him.
My heart was sinking,
My eyes were blinking,
But I answered him.
I said,
Yes, I believe,
That’s the reason I live.
I had one wife,
She was my life.

The 09:05 CST Local

Today was a special day for me, with a promotion I was reallocated to the head office in Colaba (Mumbai). A nice place for an office and though the distance was considerable, the newness seemed worth the trouble of commute. All set for this wonderful opportunity, I planned to leave well in time so that I won't be late for work on the first day, and with the reliability factor of local trains in the monsoon at back of my mind, I preferred leaving home well in advance. I reached Bhandup station near about 08:55 am, and b'cos of new office location, even my regular schedule of boarding had to be changed . As I reached platform no.2 my eyes tried to spot the indicator to see the next expected train, and it read 09:05 CST Slow. (CST: abbreviation for Chhatrapati Shajivi Terminus.) As the train approached the station, a mental preparation for a mini battle to get in the train started. And to my amazement, I could easily get in the I class compartment without having to bruise anyone. Just as Ghatkopar station arrived, I was fortunate enough to get a seat, with a sigh of relief I sat just next to the window. Being an early monsoon, the climate was pretty comfortable today as compared to some other days. It was drizzling outside. 

The train halted at Ghatkopar station and a throng of commuters rushed in. After few moments, I noticed a couple sitting on the adjacent seat who had boarded the train few minutes back, I presume. Well, there was nothing special about them in the first glance, late 20's, married most probably, the guy was busy reading his newspaper while the lady was talking to him and simultaneously she had a knitting kit and she was busy trying to to make something from the red/maroon yarn balls. Nothing special. The journey continued as I drowned in the music on the hands-free plugged to my cell.