The Night Train at Deoli

The Night Train at Deoli 

As narrated by the girl with the basket

It was one of those once-in-a-lifetime incidents that one experiences over the course of their life. I used to stay at Deoli when this happened. I was an orphan who lost my parents in an attack by some wild animals, and so I lived with my middle-aged aunty. We had acres of bamboo plantation so we decided to use those canes to make baskets as my aunt was a good weaver. But, then the question arose: Who would buy our hand-made baskets? Deoli was a small town where handmade baskets were quite common. So, I decided to sell these baskets at the one-place I knew (or I thought I knew) people would buy: the solitary railway platform!

I was a girl who just hit my adolescence phase so it was quite an experience to go daily to the platform to sell baskets. Before I tell you the things I noticed there, let me give you an introduction as to what comprised the Deoli railway station. There was a mango tree, perhaps, the only one in that vicinity. The station itself was quite unique with just one platform to receive passengers. There was Deoli’s famous ‘chai-wala’ and TeeCee Mama there always to welcome passengers. But, we never had any visitors. It seemed like no matter how much we colored our platform, it remained a dull grey for the travellers. Nevertheless, I used to amuse myself with the various passengers on the trains. I never knew where the trains were headed but those brief ten minutes were all I needed. I could see lean women carrying babies the size of young elephants or golden-brown youth resting on each other’s shoulders looking tired after a day’s journey or sari-clad women with their newlyweds. This could be noticed by the fragrance of the mehndi and the glittering jewelry they wore.

But, now to what was essential that once-in-a-lifetime incident. It has been about a few months ago and just a few weeks after my eighteenth birthday. As usual, I went to the station with my aunt’s handmade baskets. I went about trying to sell the baskets but to no avail. At about 10 in the night, a train arrived at the platform. As usual, I went about from one compartment to another hoping someone would buy my aunt’s baskets. As I neared the compartment with the sign C-2, I saw this young man who was well-built with shimmering eyes. From the time I entered the compartment till I reached him, he wouldn’t stop gazing at me. As I came near him, I felt my heart throbbing a little bit faster. I thought to myself, ‘this has never happened before.’ But, I made sure I remain business-minded.

 “Do you wish to buy a basket, sir?” I asked.

“No.” he replied.

Though he refused, I did not want to move away from there. I was trying to find a way to stay in that moment and so I broke that brief moment of awkward silence by asking, “Are you sure you don’t want to buy one?”

He may have liked me for asking him the second time because he willingly accepted it and bought it. I wanted to stay there longer but since he had already bought the basket, I couldn’t stay there longer and so I had to move onward. But, he followed me and met me at the entrance of the compartment. He seemed to admire my beauty and asked me, “Would you be there when I come back in a month’s time?”

“Yes.” I answered.

Before I could say anything more, the bells rang and the train began to move. I watched him till he disappeared into the darkness of the forest. That one month’s wait seemed like a year but I eagerly waited for that boy to return. I didn’t know his name. Neither did he know mine. But, the picture of that scene remained with me all that time. I had only hoped that he hadn’t forgotten me.

One month went by, and then one night, he was on a train again but heading in the opposite direction. At that time, I was giving the ‘chai-wala’ some company. When the boy arrived in front of me, I felt like hugging him but I had to control myself as it would look a bit out of place as it was neither the appropriate place not the appropriate time. He told me he was going to Delhi to continue with his studies and that he would be back in the summer. I wanted to tell him how I felt about him but as I said it the station bell rand and the train started moving, He smiled at me before running to enter the train. I don’t know whether he heard what I had said but in my heart I felt that the feeling was mutual.

As I waited for the summer to set in, I was getting all the more impatient. Before the beginning of March, I told my aunty that I wished to go to Delhi to meet a friend of mine and see whether I could study there. My aunt really cared for me and so she reluctantly agreed. The next day, I took a train to Delhi.

I expected Delhi to be slightly bigger that Deoli so I didn’t make any effort to know the name of the boy. I thought I would be able to find him by just describing his looks. But, on reaching Delhi, I seemed lost in a concrete jungle. I went about searching for my long lost love but no one seemed to know him. It seemed all the more difficult because unlike Deoli, Delhi is far more crowded.

It has been a month and a half since I have been searching for him. I don’t intend on going back to Deoli until I have met him. There is only one thing I fear: The ‘chaiwala’ of Deoli Railway Station. He is two years older to me and he seemed to have feelings for me though I don’t have any for him. I just hope that when the boy who stole my heart passes by Deoli, that ‘chaiwala’ doesn’t pretend as if he never knew me. If he does so, I would lose the love of my life forever.