Friday, October 03, 2008

Strangers

I wrote this a long time ago. In college. Ancient history. A sadist was ingraining thermodynamics into a bunch of anti-pyretic students. And I suffered a stroke of inspiration(Read: destitution). If you had been there, you’ll understand the reason why the story is so morbid.

STRANGERS
She sat on the bench on Platform number 5. She knew that her future was hopeless. She loathed the very nature of what she was about to do. It seemed so unnecessary, such a waste of… well… everything. Her wristwatch glowed 2:15 AM. The overhead speaker blared out an announcement. “Your attention please. Train No. 2301, Chandigarh Delhi passenger will arrive on platform number 5 at 2:40 AM.” She looked at the speaker sadly. She was never going to be on that train. She relished that fact. She opened her handbag and took out a pack of chewing gum and put one in her mouth. She waited.

A group of teenagers, probably DU students descended the over-bridge, singing and swearing. They looked at her. Not because she was attractive. Not because she looked pale and strangely serene. No. She was both. But they looked because she was the only human in sight on the platform. Then they walked past her and set down their luggage some distance away. It was the night of Thursday, Feb 29. A weekday that guarantees uncongested trains and platforms. 10 minutes later, a few families arrived. She looked at everyone arriving through narrowed eyes. Like a lioness stalking a herd. Or a gazelle looking at a pride. It was 2:27 AM.

A man walked down the over-bridge. He was limping a little on his right foot. But he was not in pain. His eyes glowed like coal-fire. His eyes caught hers for a second. She was staring at him. Her eyes showed a flicker of recognition. Or was it satisfaction? He walked towards her. When he was 10 feet away from her, she got up and went over to the water fountain. He didn’t stop. He walked up to her bench and sat down. He stared at her as she washed her hands and drank, the water gulps visible in her throat. It was 2:32 AM. She finished and looked at her watch. ‘8 minutes to go’ she thought. He continued to stare at her as she walked over to the bench and sat on it. She did not glance at him even for a second. After 5 minutes the train started arriving. He looked over her head at the engine light and then asked her “Hi… Is that the Chandigarh passenger?” She gave a little smile and thought “This is it. He’s the one.” He smiled back curious at her smile. It was 2:38AM. With rapid movement, she took at knife out of her bag and slashed it across his shoulder and neck. He howled and jerked away. People turned to look at them. She stood up, lifted the knife over her head and using both hands, brought it down right into his chest, over his heart. He screamed. There engine blew its horn. No one heard him. But, they felt his scream. She looked at them and said something. The railway announcement drowned her out. The shell-shocked teenagers came to life and started to run towards her, towards the approaching train. She still looked attractive, with the bloodied knife in hand and grotesque. As the engine came closer, they slowed down to shield their eyes from the engine’s glaring light. When the engine passed them and they opened their eyes, she was gone. The train stopped. They looked into the compartments. They could not find either her or the man’s body. It was 2:40 AM.

Both were found later. On the track, under the train. No motive was discovered. She and the man were strangers. Strangers in this strange world.

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