Mumbai's crowded local station was as usual noisy and hustle-bustle. People were rushing towards their compartments. I was also in that crowd. My name is Naina. Age 27 years. A digital artist by profession. For the past several months, my life was full of routine and fatigue. Work, home and loneliness... this was my only world.
But that day I suddenly decided that I have to go somewhere far away. Without thinking, without planning, I took a train ticket to Udaipur. Perhaps I wanted to run away from myself.
When I got into the train compartment, a boy was sitting on the seat in front. Probably of my age. His hair was slightly disheveled, there was a sparkle in his eyes and a strange intimacy in his smile. He looked at me and nodded slightly.
I kept the luggage and sat near the window. The train started moving slowly. The beats of my heart felt as if I was feeling something new.
After some time, he himself started talking. “Are you also going to Udaipur?” His voice was deep and confident. I replied with a light smile, “Yes.”
He told me his name – Kabir. He was a freelance photographer. His world was seen through the lens of the camera. And my world was through colours and design. I did not realize when the conversation started and when our stories started unfolding.
He told me stories of his travels, where he captured the sun from the peaks of the mountains and found stories in the sands of the desert. I also told him how I gave place to loneliness and freedom in my paintings.
The night started getting darker slowly. The lights of the bogies were switched off, only a light blue night light was on. Most of the passengers had slept. But there was no sleep in our eyes. Our conversation had now turned into a whisper.
“Naina, have you ever felt that even after meeting a stranger, it feels like you have known him for years?” He said leaning towards me.
I looked into his eyes. Really, there was a strange attraction there. I said softly, “Maybe I am feeling the same right now.”
He opened his camera bag and took out a small harmonica. Slowly he started playing a tune. There was something in that tune that was matching the beat of my heart.
After a while he put down the harmonica and held my hand. The touch of his fingers made my heart beat faster.
“Naina, it seems as if there is a story hidden in your eyes,” he whispered. There was an unspoken smile on my lips.
I got up to go to the washroom. As soon as I reached the corridor, he gently held my hand.
“Wait…” His voice was slow but deep.
He pulled me to the area between the two compartments. It was dark there and the sound of the train was echoing everywhere. The cold wind was blowing my hair. He stopped me near the wall and looked into my eyes.
We remained silent for a few moments. But that silence was saying everything. He brought his face closer and his lips touched mine. It was a deep feeling, without fear, just a sense of belonging.
I said softly, “Not here…”
He shook his head with a slight smile and took my hand and led me towards the washroom. He entered and closed the door.
The space was very small. The train was moving, bringing us closer. My back was against the cold wall and he was holding me in his arms. There was a thirst in his eyes and a different kind of courage in my heart.
He whispered into my ears, “You are so different, Naina.”
I put my hands around his neck and for the first time felt myself completely open. His fingers passed over my face and stopped at my neck. We were both lost in our own worlds.
The speed of the train, the noise outside and the tight space – everything was bringing us closer.
Many minutes passed. It was as if time had stopped. When we parted, our breathing was fast and our eyes were still lost in each other.
We quickly returned to our seats. No one saw us. But our smiles were telling that this journey is now recorded in memories forever.
When the train reached Udaipur in the morning, we stood silently amidst the crowd at the station. He just said, “Maybe we will meet again someday.” I nodded and smiled.
No number, no promise. Just a memory, which will always remain in the heart. Sometimes some meetings are not complete, but by remaining incomplete they become the most beautiful.
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