Journey to Surajmukhi (Part 2)

The narrow train corridor was stifling, packed shoulder-to-shoulder with bodies emanating waves of heat and sweat-tinged aromas. Deepak gripped Phool's hand tightly as he forged ahead, searching for their assigned cabin.When they finally located the cramped compartment, it was nearly full to bursting. Only a single space remained on the worn, threadbare bench. Deepak turned to his new bride, her face obscured behind the folds of her crimson bridal veil. He gently guided her inside with a steadying hand on the small of her back."Bhabhi, you take the seat," he said, raising his voice over the clamor. "I'll stand with the others."Phool obediently sank into the vacant spot, adjusting the folds of her ornate crimson lehenga to make space. As she settled in, her eyes immediately met those of two other newly-married couples across the cramped compartment.The brides wore matching brilliant red wedding outfits, their faces also shrouded by the diaphanous ghoonghat veils in keeping with tradition - just like Phool's delicate features were currently concealed behind the gossamer fabric. But the similarities ended there. While Phool and Deepak appeared quite modest, the accompanying grooms and families stuck out like jewel-toned plumage amongst the drab crowd.One particular groom lounged arrogantly in his exquisitely tailored sherwani and overcoat, the fabric so finely embroidered it seemed to glitter even in the dim lighting. His father, adorned in a garish brocade vest and sporting ostentatious jewelry, eyed Deepak's simple kurta and pajama with unveiled disdain. The haughty sneer on the older man's face spoke volumes of disdain for the poor farmer's appearance.To his credit, Deepak did not visibly react, keeping his eyes dutifully downcast as he moved aside for a pair of porters hauling luggage. Yet Phool couldn't help but notice a slight blush of humiliation coloring his cheeks at the unspoken assessment of his cheap, well-worn garments. For all his family's lack of wealth and fancy airs, she was deeply proud of her husband in that moment. While the other party radiated an uncouth, nouveau riche arrogance, Deepak carried himself with a simple dignity despite his modest means. He had nurtured the soil with his calloused hands, earning an honest living - not hiding behind superficial displays like garish jewelry or haute couture.The disdainful woman's voice cut through the din like a knife. "Pradeep's attire is so much nicer," she said loudly to her husband, not bothering to mask her disparaging tone.Pradeep, the groom she referred to, cleared his throat awkwardly but kept his eyes firmly glued to the newspaper gripped in his hands. A muscle twitched in Deepak's jaw, but he didn't outwardly react to the insult comparing his modest attire to Pradeep's ornate outfit.The haughty woman turned her judging gaze directly on Deepak then, looking him up and down brazenly. "What was your dowry amount?" She asked without preamble.Deepak's face flushed, but he simply shook his head and averted his eyes. The woman made a rude sound in the back of her throat, clearly offended at his ignominy of not entertaining her prying question.In the tense silence that followed, Deepak leaned in close to murmur in Phool's ear, keeping his voice low. "Bhabhi, I need to use the toilet before our next stop, even though it's not ours." His eyes were apologetic behind his thick lashes.Phool's brow furrowed slightly behind her veil. "Can't you hold it until we arrive?" She whispered back.But Deepak was already shaking his head ruefully. "No, I'll be right back, I promise." With that, he carefully extricated himself from the tightly-packed crowd and disappeared down the corridor.Phool settled back on the hard bench, absentmindedly smoothing the folds of her wedding lehenga as the train rocked onward. She couldn't quite meet the too-wise eyes of the other brides through their matching veils. Though her new husband had been publicly disparaged, she felt no anger - only a sense of tenderness toward the gentle soul who was now her partner for life's journey.Despite his humble dress and dowry, Deepak's innate dignity remained unshaken in the face of such materialistic taunts. In her heart, Phool knew the true measure of his worth extended far deeper than the superficial trappings he'd just been ridiculed over. As she patiently awaited his return from the toilet, she hoped she could be a wife worthy of his quiet resilience.The train jerked to a halt at the next station, and the narrow cabin buzzed with activity as a few passengers disembarked. Phool watched from behind her veil as the quiet couple sitting diagonally from her also rose to leave.The bride gathered her belongings while her husband hovered closely, escorting her out with a protective hand at the small of her back. As they squeezed past, the strange man who had been wedged onto the bench between Phool and the other couple followed them out into the teeming crowd on the platform.With their seats now vacant, Phool instinctively shifted over towards the window to make space. She clutched her bridal lehenga tightly, folding it into the corner to avoid the foot traffic. To her surprise, Pradeep suddenly appeared beside her, collapsing onto the freed space with a dramatic sigh of relief. He fanned himself vigorously with a hand as if overly warm from being seated so closely to his heavyset parents across the way."Jaya, sit here." he called out imperiously to his new bride amid the commotion.The veiled woman rose obediently and carefully made her way along the cramped aisle until she was seated on Pradeep's other side.With their new seating arrangement, Pradeep's parents exchanged looks and made a big show of stretching out their legs and fanning their rotund bodies theatrically."Aahh, finally some room to be comfortable!" Pradeep's mother exclaimed in an overly loud voice, not even trying to veil her disdain. "This heat is just too unkind to the well-fed!"The boorish couple chuckled heartily at their own remark as if they'd said something terribly clever. Pradeep ducked his head in embarrassment but remained silent, clearly used to suffering his parents' classless taunts with forbearance.For her part, Phool shrank back imperceptibly against the window until the suffocating folds of her veil brushed the glassless window. Though she didn't dare look up, she could sense Deepak's continued absence more acutely with each passing minute, feeling strangely unprotected without her husband by her side.As the train whistle blew, signaling it was about to depart again, Deepak hurriedly made his way back down the corridor. He clutched the fabric of his kurta, flustered at having taken longer than promised in the toilet line.When he reached their cabin, he was relieved to see one of the benches had opened up with a couple's departure. Assuming the seating arrangement was unchanged from when he'd left, he slid in next to the veiled woman seated by the aisle - mistakenly thinking it was his wife Phool.Phool watched silently as the misunderstanding unfolded. Deepak settled in beside Pradeep's bride Jaya, giving her what he thought was a reassuring smile. Jaya stiffened imperceptibly but didn't react, likely too well-trained in decorum to cause a scene.From her new spot by the window, Phool considered speaking up to correct her husband's mistake. But one look at the sneering, overtly judgemental expressions on Pradeep's parents' faces gave her pause. They seemed to be the type to make a loud, embarrassing spectacle over the smallest breach of protocol.As the train rattled back into motion, Deepak knew they only had one more stop before finally arriving in Surajmukhi. He settled the small trunk containing his belongings across his lap, the familiar weight reassuring against his thighs.His mind began to wander homeward, painting vivid pictures of the vibrant welcome that awaited him and his new bride. He could practically smell the rich aromas of the lavish feast his mother would have prepared - fragrant curries, pillowy naan, and his favorite seviyan sweetened with notes of saffron and cardamom.Deepak's grandparents would be there as well, faces creased into proud smiles as they embraced their second grand daughter-in-law. His older brother's wife and children would crowd around shyly, the little ones likely peeking out from behind their aunt's vibrantly colored ghagras.A small smile tugged at the corners of Deepak's mouth as he remembered the raucous group of friends from his childhood days. How many times had that rowdy bunch gambled over whose wedding would be celebrated first? He could still hear their riotous laughter reverberating through the village streets as they squabbled and made absurd bets.Well, it seemed Deepak had undeniably emerged the winner in that particular wager. As his eyes drifted involuntarily towards Phool's concealed form beside him, he felt an intensely powerful sense of awe. Out of all the girls in the world, fate had destined him for this beautiful, dignified woman - the greatest jackpot of all.Warmed by these humorous and heartwarming visions of the life and family awaiting them in Surajmukhi, Deepak felt his eyelids growing heavy. The gentle rocking motion of the train carriage lulled him into an unexpected doze, finally allowing his travel-weary body to relax into a light slumber. Surrounded by the reassuring sounds and smells of the journey home, he drifted off to dreamland clutching the handles of his luggage like a talisman.•The jarring screech of the train's brakes jolted Deepak awake with a start. His eyes flew open in disoriented panic as he realized the carriage had grown dim, the formerly blazing sun now set beyond the horizon.Everyone else in their cramped cabin appeared to still be slumbering - even Pradeep's obnoxiously loud parents, who were sawing logs with snores that rivaled growling crocodiles. Had he slept through their stop at Surajmukhi?Deepak's heart pounded as he pressed his face to the grimy window, straining his eyes in the inky darkness. There - a faded platform sign slowly came into view as they pulled into the station. The worn letters unmistakably read "Welcome To Surajmukhi." On cue, the conductor's voice rang out over the loudspeaker, announcing the train would be departing again shortly. In a panic, Deepak scrambled to gather their belongings, hoisting the trunks and bags clumsily into his arms.Assuming the veiled woman beside him was his wife, he grasped her hand urgently. "Bhabhi, we have to go!" Without waiting for a response, he tugged her to her feet and half-dragged her towards the exit, luggage bouncing awkwardly behind them.The woman said nothing, too startled to protest as Deepak hustled them off the train and onto the dimly lit platform. His mind was whirring - they still had to secure a tanga or cycle rickshaw to take them the final stretch to his family's village on the outskirts of town.Realizing his mistake too late, the woman turned back towards the departing train in bewilderment. There on the other side of the window was Phool, her crimson veil obscuring her face in an identical fashion. The veiled stranger found herself suddenly torn - should she correct Deepak's blunder or follow his lead despite being a total stranger?Sensing her hesitation, Deepak called out urgently once more with surprising tenderness: "Bhabhi, jaldi karo! We'll miss our ride home!" His voice was utterly devoid of the disdainful condescension her own husband typically used when barking orders. In that moment, the woman made up her mind. She turned away from the swiftly disappearing train and the path of her former life, instead falling into step beside this gentle dimwit who had unintentionally welcomed her with simple respect.