That Night on the Train Ch. 02

Chapter 2 -- Was I watching a movie?

The empty seat remained just that--empty! Then the platform outside her window began to move as a shrill whistle sounded and the train lurched and began to move, and Anjali's irritation gave way to something sharper: curiosity.

Anjali had been staring at the over bridge, albeit not really focused on anything. She could see people on the over bridge as far as two platforms over and as usual, it was packed with people hurtling in both directions. Porters, families dragging kids, youngsters with excited faces, old people trudging along slowly, in essence, all the things you would expect to see at a busy railway terminus.

Just as she was about to turn away from that view, she saw him. Even at the distance, she could see his bottle green t-shirt with grey cargo shorts, huge backpack hanging on one shoulder, absolutely hurtling from the farthest end of the overpass bridge that she could see, running full speed towards what she was guessing... the train she was in.

The Express had started pulling out, but her eyes stayed glued to the progress this person was making. It was as if things were happening is slow motion like in a movie. His running motion was effortless, he was dodging people, bags and anything else without breaking a stride, his backpack shifting from one shoulder to another as needed to avoid hitting anyone or anything, as though he was displaying his parkour skills.

The train had reached a speed at which Anjali would never attempt to board it, just as he was approaching the start of the stairs that would bring him down to the platform. It was at that moment where he turned and looked towards the train, although she felt like he was looking straight at her. Even though she knew he could not see her due the heavily tinted windows, she felt as if his gaze was only upon her. His gaze had a strange, magical and magnetic pull. Suddenly, irrationally, she wanted him to look at her and keep looking just at her!

His eyes showed no sign of panic, none of the dread she or most people would have had from missing a train, rather they had a wild, mischievous & reckless look, a look of someone who was enjoying the challenge, someone who had maybe intentionally waited till the last minute to start his run, just for the thrill of the chase. Anjali could not tell whether he was just late, showing off, answering some private dare, or simply foolish enough to enjoy danger.

As the train gathered speed, Anjali pressed her cheek closer to the window, as if she could push the glass aside by sheer will. She knew nothing about this man, yet she found herself engrossed, silently betting on him, wanting him to make it with an urgency that made no sense. For one absurd second, she even thought of running to the compartment door, to hang out of it for a better view, just to keep watching.

He rounded the steps, taking them three, sometimes four at a time. He had just reached the middle landing, about 10 more steps from the bottom, when it happened. A young kid, maybe four or five years old darted in his path. Like it would happen it a slow-motion movie, Anjali screamed "WATCH OUT!!' startling all the fellow passengers around her. She saw his reflexes kick in, the backpack flew out of hand hurtling down towards the platform at the exact same time his knees hugged his chest as he jumped, hands flaying as if in slow motion, high straight over the kid and straight down to the bottom most step.

Anjali's hands were on her mouth; she did not even realize when she had jumped up on her seat and was now kneeling trying her best to shove her head out of the sealed window as the train moved along still trying to keep him in her view. He landed HARD on the last step, his motion making him do an unintentional summersault on the hard concrete platform, like small kids do for fun.

Her hands now on her cheeks, her mouth open in horror, she was sure he had cracked his skull, maybe broken a few bones or badly twisted his ankle, but she was stunned to see the next second he was on his feet and running again. He quickly turned around, raised his hand in apology to the irate family of the kid, picked up his backpack in the next stride and was now running towards possibly the closest door of the train he could reach.

The Express bent around the corner and both the platform, and the hero of her movie was lost from her view. She sat back down, still shocked, unsurprisingly, the eyes of all her co-passengers still on her given her crazy behavior in these last few minutes, just wondering if he made it on the train! It was like the movie had ended and the director had ensured that people would now anxiously await the sequel.

Another two, three or maybe 10 minutes past, she could not tell, her anxiousness and heart rate both seem to have calmed down. The Rajdhani, rocking as ever, was fast approaching the speeds it is known for. She bent down to extract her water bottle from her bag and in that instant, heard a bag crash on the seat and a loud plop of someone just falling into a seat.

She looked up, her bottle of water in her hand... and with a thrill of joy or fear, she did not know, saw a man in a bottle green shirt with grey cargo shorts sitting in that empty seat, one hand on his backpack, the other on his leg, his head rolled up resting on the seat back, eyes closed, looking up at the bottom of the top sleeper berth, the veins on his long neck pulsing, and breathing hard.

The empty seat was no longer empty! It felt as if the sequel of the movie had just begun.