That night I was on my own
riding the train
to Bhopal, maybe Mhow,
Does it matter? The name?
I sat hunched, like I usually do
on the top berth reading a book
Pretending I didn’t mind being alone
Ignoring the “loud” families below
Wrapping myself in my shield
But she
She saw right through my facade
She smiled a bit and asked
“Here would you like some food?”
Her friendliness couldn’t be barred by a book
Her open smile, her gentle voice
I had no choice, but to be nice!
“Not really, I am not hungry” I said
“It’s not poisoned” she laughed!
I went red like I was a two-year old
Caught with my hand in the cookie bowl
I accepted the sandwich
and we began to chatter
Talking to her was easy
That we’d just met, didn’t matter
Name, home, work, education,
We walked the through routine
but soon we were talking of hopes and dreams
All night we sat
talking,
Just like that
My book forgotten,
our berths unslept
I discovered
she was a dreamer, just like me
An idealist, a thinker, a “spirit” free
She spoke softly, spinning words of gold
everything she uttered was poetry
I was completely bowled!
When she asked me my story
I simply told
Everything I could think of
Since I was two-year old
If she spoke well,she listened even better
Her head cocked to a side,
her gaze filled with compassion
Understanding things said and left unsaid
Even though I maintained a stony face
My inner angst was reflected in her eyes
When I surreptitiously attempted to brush aside
Two tears threatening to roll down my eyes,
She began to cry, long open tears she shed
Was it possible for her to feel?
So much for a stranger like me
When the morning sun shone
I felt like
In this world I wasn’t alone
I had found on this soulful night
A person who spoke my language, and heard me right
At the station when she turned to leave
She shook my hand, giving it a squeeze
I tentatively squeezed it back
the train seemed so empty after that
There was nothing to do, nobody to chat
Even the book that I had really longed to read
Now so boring it seemed
By the time my station came
I could hardly wait, to google her name
And make her my Facebook friend
When I finally keyed in her name
It spat out a string of suggests
But I was only seeking her face
Found her at the end of the second page
I clicked to see her wall
She was all she said
except for a minor detail
There on her profile for all to see
Were a husband she hugged and two lovely kids
Her eyes shone just like they had, on me
Her friends list was really long
And from the comments on her wall
It was evident she was a good “friend ” to all
For a minute I didn’t know what to feel
Had she or hadn’t she cheated me?
I hadn’t asked about her family life
I had been so busy narrating my story
At no point had she lead me on
Just spoke to me in that gentle tone
After that first hit of surprise
I understood, I realized
It didn’t matter if she was married or free
She could still be a good friend to me
And so with a big smile
I sent her a “friend” invite
And now we keep in touch on mail
she listens to my long dreary tales
My silly worries and unending angst
She gives me advice and “saner” plans
Now whenever I travel by train
I chat, talk and attempt to connect
with someone, sitting close to me
for I learned this on that fateful night
one never knows,Where & When
New friends walk in
and change your life
The Write Over the Weekend theme for this week was
You meet a random person and start talking… What happens next?
As you know I am at the lit festival, I have resorted to some cheating this week. I am publishing something I had written long back! Well its not so long back really, but that’s how it feels.
This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda
Lovely poem full of soulful insights !
thanks vasudha
Very interesting subject, thanks for putting up.
very nice! 🙂
thanks shazia..