The Train Back Home

The sounds of the rumbling tracks and the engine of the mighty engine engulfed itself in and around the station. The men and women of all kinds get in and out, of places they are immersed.

I walked towards the train, looking at the magnificent creations with man's blood and sweat with the might of steel. The compartments were all new with refurbished interiors and new leather that made the coach look one of a kind. I made my way through the crowd.

"Chai…. Chai", could be heard in the distance, probably from another coach.

"excuse me sir, but this is my seat", I said to the young gentleman who sat there looking into

the crowd, he seemed to be not more than ten, with brand new clothes and small kid shoes that showed his continued visit with imagination.

"I am chorry", he said running to his mother who sat just opposite the assigned seat.

I sat at my place taking in the surroundings and everything that made it what it was. I loved the sight of being a part of something, something that I have not been able to achieve for a long time.

I opened my bag to check its contents and to see if their presence was still held there, seeing that all the contents of the bag still existed, I began to take in the surroundings once again only to see my partner seat passenger who was an old man, not more than 60 years of age. He walked slowly and shook with every step.

The old man took his seat next to me and began to indulge in his reading. The small kid playing with his toys and so began my journey back home.

"It's a beautiful day na", the kid said with a runny nose.

"yes…. yes, it is", I said with a smile that took my memories back to its time of origin and creation.

the kid continued to play with his toys which looked familiar to me for some reason.

'Raja', the mother said calling him back into her arms.

The train was welcomed by a silence that beckoned its passengers; the only break of this unusual silence was the rattle of the tracks that ran beneath us.

The old man seemed to have finished his paper and turned his gaze to the scenery that passed outside, the trees and the monsoon smell seemed to bring him a nostalgic feeling that he seemed to enjoy.

"Sir, do you believe in ghosts", he asked with intriguing eyes.

"ha-ha, no sir, I don't", I said smiling and looking back at the scenery

When I turned back the old man had vanished and so had all the passengers from the train including the little boy. Then it dawned on me that my mother also used to call me 'Raja' as she did.