The rain drenched trees sparkled in the abrupt sun and moved away as quickly. A drop of water raced along the window bar lacing and falling on to the seat. The breeze gaining strength it flicked the pages of the magazine she was reading. She looked out into the green paddy field partly shadowed by rain clouds. Her thought clouded in the sleepy yawn stretching her face. Her head kneading and pulsing the unslept sleep of the night. The magazine fluttered under her loosening grip. She folded it and tucked into her bag, slanting on to the seat closing her eye. It was a long day ahead. It’s been like this for last two years now. Getting up at five concocting a breakfast for the family catching the train to work. Another hour to go then half an hour bus drive. She smiled, is this how it is fated, her life ? Her thoughts interrupted by the metallic screeching and jerking silence. The noise of the crowd, the hawkers and beggars. Motes playing around her eyes as she drooled through the lattice. Patches of puddle caught pieces of sky in the roofless platform. Legs evading and crisscrossing around them in a hurry. A dog lapped water from one of the puddle. The blue water rippling into tea muddy as if the sky has been skimmed away. Two whistles exploded through the humid air, she felt the pull of the engine. She thought of the times, when the whistle of the engine was actually a whistle and the train chugged, tunneling smoke into the air in its characteristic way. She relapsed. The breeze tentative and searching, squiggling gaining strength and resolute, clawing her skin transporting her way from the daily rigmarole.
She felt a dull thump on her toes. A man excused himself profusely moving the luggage away. He sat on the vacant seat across her, mopping the sweat around the folds on his neck. It had started to drizzle outside. She hoped it stop. Either the drizzle would turn into a deluge or it would fizzle out. Unlike the June rain the November rain rarely lingered on. Yesterday also she got wet despite the umbrella. The man had settled down and was now cleaning his damp thick spectacles with handkerchief. The sparse hair on his pate and arms held droplets of rain, which glistened as though he was sprayed with diamond dust. She smiled, it reminded her of the lover who vowed to cover his beloved in diamond, the tawdry T.V. serial she flipped, jaded her senses to sleep. The man had untied his shoes and now drank water from the bottle. His hand like a stump of tree, fingers rough trimmed branches. The water yellowish cumin warmed fluid disappeared into cavern of mouth in muffled clucks. His thick neck puffed into his bloated face, as though he was blown through the neck. His doleful eyes bursting in red veins, ballooned out held back my mucous the thick lens distending it further. A feeble sadness knocked some faltering memories. She flinched her shoulder and looked away. The rain has stopped. She smiled atleast today she will reach office not getting wet. She uncrossed her legs to search her slippers getting the toehold.
He had been searching the bogies for a place to sit. Not that it was crowded. He had something else in mind. He never liked travelling in rain. The metallic sounds, creaks, even the smell assaulted him. Add to that the rain, fidgeting, scratching his skin, hulking he dragged his tattered bag which followed him like a scrawny reluctant mongrel. He caught her glimpse as he crossed her compartment. A glimpse since he had been looking the other way. He stopped, retracing his steps. Her eyes closed, face slanted against the seat. A loose stand of hair frolicked her serene acquiline face. His prurient eyes awakened and sparkled catching the glint of sneaking sun, ogled down her body. He liked that delicate curve of her ankle, the bulge of the bone sensuously protruding into milky blue painted toes. He smacked his lips and heaved a breath. What luck the seat is empty too. He looked around before bumping his luggage onto her. He liked the way it startled her. It was humid and sweaty. He felt her from the corner of his eyes. Her foot dangled over the other exposing more of her leg. He took out his silk kerchief hemmed and embroidered with flower pattern, spreading it. He could feel her eyes as he wiped his glasses. He caught her sly smile, it twitched his skin. He let her linger. He straightened himself tilted towards her. He could see her better now and let his eyes meet. For a moment he was transfixed, her face still held shades of smile. He felt the sudden surge in arteries, a momentary loss of self. He knew she liked him.
It was there in the mistiness of her eyes. He didn’t understand why she shrugged and looked away. He wanted to ask her. His lips gawking like a fish. The solace for him was that she still smiled. He was certain now. He concentrated on her face, her eyes. She looked at him. Her face changing from wonder to incomprehension to fright. His face contorting in urgency. He moved his body forward his hands unclasping and trailing in the air. She scampered out nearly stumbling and pushing the peanut seller. The train had stopped. She got down trying not to look back. Straightening herself she neared the exit, casually turning. The train stood exhausted, bogies weary and wet. The window rolled up, the eyes trapped in the black frames searched her like an insane furious hungry caged animal, it darted here and there. She shivered at the maniacal eyes gazing around her. It was only when the bus moved into the traffic and she felt the sting of the smoke in her eyes that she was broken from the trance.
She felt a dull thump on her toes. A man excused himself profusely moving the luggage away. He sat on the vacant seat across her, mopping the sweat around the folds on his neck. It had started to drizzle outside. She hoped it stop. Either the drizzle would turn into a deluge or it would fizzle out. Unlike the June rain the November rain rarely lingered on. Yesterday also she got wet despite the umbrella. The man had settled down and was now cleaning his damp thick spectacles with handkerchief. The sparse hair on his pate and arms held droplets of rain, which glistened as though he was sprayed with diamond dust. She smiled, it reminded her of the lover who vowed to cover his beloved in diamond, the tawdry T.V. serial she flipped, jaded her senses to sleep. The man had untied his shoes and now drank water from the bottle. His hand like a stump of tree, fingers rough trimmed branches. The water yellowish cumin warmed fluid disappeared into cavern of mouth in muffled clucks. His thick neck puffed into his bloated face, as though he was blown through the neck. His doleful eyes bursting in red veins, ballooned out held back my mucous the thick lens distending it further. A feeble sadness knocked some faltering memories. She flinched her shoulder and looked away. The rain has stopped. She smiled atleast today she will reach office not getting wet. She uncrossed her legs to search her slippers getting the toehold.
He had been searching the bogies for a place to sit. Not that it was crowded. He had something else in mind. He never liked travelling in rain. The metallic sounds, creaks, even the smell assaulted him. Add to that the rain, fidgeting, scratching his skin, hulking he dragged his tattered bag which followed him like a scrawny reluctant mongrel. He caught her glimpse as he crossed her compartment. A glimpse since he had been looking the other way. He stopped, retracing his steps. Her eyes closed, face slanted against the seat. A loose stand of hair frolicked her serene acquiline face. His prurient eyes awakened and sparkled catching the glint of sneaking sun, ogled down her body. He liked that delicate curve of her ankle, the bulge of the bone sensuously protruding into milky blue painted toes. He smacked his lips and heaved a breath. What luck the seat is empty too. He looked around before bumping his luggage onto her. He liked the way it startled her. It was humid and sweaty. He felt her from the corner of his eyes. Her foot dangled over the other exposing more of her leg. He took out his silk kerchief hemmed and embroidered with flower pattern, spreading it. He could feel her eyes as he wiped his glasses. He caught her sly smile, it twitched his skin. He let her linger. He straightened himself tilted towards her. He could see her better now and let his eyes meet. For a moment he was transfixed, her face still held shades of smile. He felt the sudden surge in arteries, a momentary loss of self. He knew she liked him.
It was there in the mistiness of her eyes. He didn’t understand why she shrugged and looked away. He wanted to ask her. His lips gawking like a fish. The solace for him was that she still smiled. He was certain now. He concentrated on her face, her eyes. She looked at him. Her face changing from wonder to incomprehension to fright. His face contorting in urgency. He moved his body forward his hands unclasping and trailing in the air. She scampered out nearly stumbling and pushing the peanut seller. The train had stopped. She got down trying not to look back. Straightening herself she neared the exit, casually turning. The train stood exhausted, bogies weary and wet. The window rolled up, the eyes trapped in the black frames searched her like an insane furious hungry caged animal, it darted here and there. She shivered at the maniacal eyes gazing around her. It was only when the bus moved into the traffic and she felt the sting of the smoke in her eyes that she was broken from the trance.
(Trains are always evocative for me. I just love traveling in train. I must have traveled all over India in train. For almost 6 months I commuted in train every morning and evening which was like 4-5 hours per day, on season ticket from Alleppey to Ernakulam. Mostly office goers it was quite a gregarious affair with substantial women commuters. Once we even did rail roko agitation since the local train was always late and bogies substandard (it is about sitting on the track, shouting slogans and generally talking crap). Then there were cases of people jumping in front of train and suicide. It’s gruesome)
