Short Stories

The Train Station

I was walking on the road, Immersed  in my thoughts. My self-indulgent self was moving slowly on the pavement. A sharp sound brought me back to Earth, people booing and hooting, girls clutching each other and squealing with false /true glee. I furrowed my eyebrows, trying to figure out the cause of commotion. A big banner stuck on the wall gave me some clue. Slowly I figured out the names written over play-cards. Puff. Some new celebrity, few fans, people just jumping on the bandwagon. Who cares. They all seemed so far away.

These thoughts made my brain function a little quicker. I began to notice the wet environment around me., the clear wind filed my nostrils and my lungs. I felt her usual caress over my face, my bare hands. Smiling slightly, this so self-absorbed self moved ahead.

I was fed up looking around this path everyday,fed up with everything that somehow brought me back to my senses. I didn’t even posses the scrutiny the curiosity about anything that might give my thoughts a change of direction. I was myself.. which some say.. is sometimes the greatest pain..

Everyday I told myself to start off late. But I somehow had become used to this slow, lazy walk before, maybe, maybe, my day started. Few moments with my dreams will bring me no good, no happiness, no better thoughts. Nothing whatsoever.

I had lived through yesterday, like I did day before yesterday, and each and every day of these months. It did not amaze me now. Things seldom did. Feeling as if drowning in some muddy depths, I slowed my pace. Walking was better, better than sleeping, sitting or even running. For I was tired. I had given up. But it wasn’t enough. I would survive. These breaths won’t cease with me. This heart beat won’t give way.

Another caress from an age-old friend, this wind, I moved ahead. Forgetting that few minutes were left for the train to come and waiting too gave you nothing. If not a flashback, if not a memory.

And in this crowd, yet again. I feel the same defeat, the same disbelief. Maybe not disbelief.. I had given up on that feeling ages ago. I fought, yet again, with that pain that refused to flow out. Refused to let my brain, my mind, my soul to leave its own self. As for the heart.. ,my chest was empty. I didn’t have to touch to make it sure. It was where now the pain lived, crippling my soul and bruising my body.

Feeling dizzy but with no expression crossing my face..I boarded in the train that just came to a halt. Refusing to look around. Refusing to let my eyes search around for him, I bow my head down and stare at my feet. Sitting alone gave you no joy.

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