The Man in The Train

Just like how it happens every year, she came clattering along the railway line. Hapa Superfast express, how can I forget her? She was the one who took me all these years to Kerala, God’s own country. With the ticket checker whistling behind, she stopped slowly with a sound of whoosh, letting out a large puff of smoke. I was gazing at my old mate when my father shook me.

“Hurry, let’s find our compartment!” he said. Pulling my hand, he zipped off leaving the crowd in a stare. It is always funny to see a jaw dropped crowd with all eyes on you. With my mother and brother running behind, we entered the train like a movie’s entry scene.

“Where’s my seat?” I asked dad.

“Ha, its not in here. I think you have to share it with another passenger,” he grinned. I grabbed the ticket and went looking for my seat. Forty two, where are you? Ah, here you are. Thank goodness, there was no one in forty one. So I jumped into forty one, the window seat. Then slowly, with frequent halts, our train chugged, leaving Tamilnadu and heading Kerala... Choo choo... Choo choo...

I opened my travel bag and what do you think I would have taken? A camera? Nope, you are wrong. I had actually taken a cutlet which I bought from the station. I know, fast food is bad, but great! And food should always have the first preference, right?

Then I took a book called “Lost in a fair” by Arjun Sinha, who is a great Indian writer. I was enjoying my cutlet when this guy came.

“Excuse me,” he asked, uh oh, now don’t tell me you need my cutlet. And so I stuffed it in my mouth and devoured it.

“I think its my seat,” he said. So this is the guy.

“Is it?” I replied back in a question.

“I think it is,” he smiled and I moved to my seat. Now, where have I seen him? He seems to be more familiar. When he was caressing his bag with his ticket between his fingers, I slowly looked out from the corner of my eye. What’s his name?

“Arrrrrrjuuuu... Arjun Sinha!” I yelped in disbelief.

“Yeah, that’s my name,” he laughed.

“Oh my God! Arjun sir, is this you? I am a great fan of yours!”I gasped and he smiled showing all his thirty two teeth; Well, thirty one actually, with the last being a caries tooth.

“Sir, can I have a selfie? Pleeeeeeaaaasssssee..,” I was going out of control.

“Ummm okay,” he agreed. And yes, it was a picture to be treasured.

“Aaannddd... can you sign my autograph note?” I was already holding it in my hands.

“Sure!” he said. I wish I could write like him, I thought. So should I inform my parents? No, I would rather not. I can’t have my brother taking pictures with him and posting on social media.

“Sir, so why have you come all the way alone from Bombay to Tamilnadu?” I tried to make a conversation.

“Did you hear about my next book?” he asked.

“Of course! ‘Somewhere in South’, that’s the title, right? You are planning to release it by the thirtieth of December, right?” I burst into words.

“Wow, so accurate!” he exclaimed “and that’s why I have come to visit Tamilnadu and Kerala, just to make sure my plans go right.”

“What’s your stop, then?” I wish he would stop at Alleppey and stay at our house.

“My station is called...” he checked his ticket ”...Aluva.”

Hmm, two stops after mine. But it’s okay, I have got six long hours to spend! Six long hours!

We talked about this, we talked about that and all kinds of stuff and never had a second thought that time was running out.

“Sanjanaaaaaaa...” there came a familiar call. A call I have been hearing for fourteen years. I checked my watch. Gosh, it’s time! Hapa slowed gradually.

“I am coming Mom!” I shouted back.

“It was a great day!” I smiled.

“Me too, kid! I never knew I had fans in South India! Thank you for everything!” he said, patting my head. I was blushing so much.

“Goodbye, then” I said and he waved back. Walking out with my family, I narrated the whole tale and posted the selfie on Facebook. Basically, I never do such things, but this was just to humiliate my brother. Then we had lunch and went to our ancestral home in Alleppey and in fact, it was the best day in my life! Thanking God for such a lovely day, I went to bed.

The next day I woke up and switched on the television, just to hear some news around the globe.

HEADLINES : CHILDREN’S WRITER ARJUN SINHA WAS FOUND DEAD IN HIS HOTEL ROOM IN BOMBAY. SINCE HE HAD NOT OPENED THE DOOR, THE HOUSEKEEPING MANAGER WAS FORCED TO BREAK IN. HIS BODY WAS FOUND FULLY DECAYED AND THE AUTOPSY REPORT SAYS THAT HE HAD BEEN DEAD FOR TWO DAYS! COPS ARE ON INVESTIGATION.

What? What’s happening? I dashed to pick my mobile. The selfie was still there. If he was found dead in Bombay, then who is this..? Who is he..?