He was waiting for train on the platform wreathed with people who were
desperately seeking train for home. Alike all of them, he too was
exhausted and iota of energy which was left that too drained by glancing
repeatedly at the speculating digital display. backpack which was lighter in the
morning now felt heavy, like an overkill shackle around arms. He saw a girl, it was sheer fortuitous glimpse. How one could be so that lively after the hectic day? He thought at her agility. Her face reflecting her vivaciousness, graceful and alleviating like the moon. Her hairs black and layered not in extravagant way but simply manageable. He couldn’t see her eyes but somewhat predictable, they
must have been gleaming too. Her friend beside, was chubby girl, black spectacle
tucked on the nose and she was involuntarily pushing it back by her pointer finger
with repeated and perhaps after the same time interval. She never know that she
had been the victim of contrast bias by standing next to her friend. Why on the
earth every beautiful girl has spying chubby girl with her who acts like her
bodyguard and looks every guy wryly. Anyway, he glanced at her again, and the
cacophony around him faded slowly. Her face was magic, he was completely
mesmerized and about to drown in the world of imagination. What if it were a
typical bollywood movie he thought. Her dupatta would have wafted in the air and
landed on his head and then slowly uncovering his overacting face. The rain would
have fallen in a mist. The people around would have had transitory time travel,
leaving them alone at the platform. He would have smiled at her and she would
have tried and failed to shy in an orthodox way. However, The train bustling by
pulled him out of the trance. Clanked utterly, faded slowly and finally swallowed
by the horizon. He looked at it blankly.
‘Would you tell us where is the platform number nine?’ The soft voice said from
behind. Shivers pricked on his neck, the voice was soft and reassuring. He turned
back and saw her, she was more vivid now, yes the metaphor moon, the spotless
moon was correct, god’s immaculate creation. the chubby girl beside her staring
at him almost with scorn.
‘Why— I mean why not’…… he stammered a bit and replied.
Follow me. He said and walked ahead of them, both of them followed him
involuntarily. None of them spoke, he could only hear footsteps from behind,
somewhat rhythmic. one was fierce must have been chubby girls and other soft
‘Whats your name?’ asked chubby girl, tone like investigating
cop. He looked back over his shoulder.
‘Ravi’ he said and managed a smile.
The look that neither so flamboyant and not so dull. But his smile prevailed and made
its impression. ‘Why does platform number nine is obscure?’ now she( the moon)
said. ‘ it used to be a crowded one, don’t know why, trains seldom come here.
May be just two or three a day’. ‘Okay she said’. Chubby girl was expressionless on
their conversation. ‘So you both never came here before?’
‘the first time and perhaps the last one’. Chubby girl said abruptly.
And the train arrived, rattling a bit,slowing down and finally stopped with hiss. Both of them climbed into it and he stood there again deep into thoughts.
He was about to leave but mellifluous voice stopped him.
‘Thank you Ravi’ she said.
With smile and he smiled too. And she boarded on the train again and eventually
train accelerated slowly and then disappeared.
Life is a fiction, and we are the characters who are driven by the circumstances. God has assigned us a set of people and our life hovers around them. But some strangers with their transitory advent marks an eternal inscription on our life.
Ravi finally slept in rhythmic rattling of the train. Platform no 9 was his last conscious thought.
to be continued……………………..