“God bless you, dear,” Deeksha’s mom said when she fell on her feet.
Deeksha stood up, beaming. Her golden earrings shook slightly. She looked beautiful dressed in pink and blue silk saree. She had elegantly draped saree with her long and delicate fingers.
“It’s getting late Shruthi. Let them get into the taxi. It is 6.30 pm already. If there is any more delay, it will be difficult to catch that train in this traffic,” Deeksha’s father said to his wife.
She was crying now as held her daughter tightly.
“Don’t make her suffer as she is about to leave. Stop crying Shruthi,” her husband said.
Deeksha was standing next to her husband Jitender, who was an army officer. He looked tall and handsome with a clean-shaven face. He had a perfectly sculpted body, not a hint of extra fat in him. He wore a light yellow t-shirt and grey cotton trousers. They had been recently married.
Jitender wanted to say something, but he didn’t and closed his mouth.
“Mom, I will be fine and you stop worrying about me. Jitender is there to take care of me,” Deeksha said as looked at him. It was six years of love which had finally culminated in marriage. It had all started when she had accidentally sent a facebook friend request to him, instead of her friend Jatendra. They gradually got to know each other better and before they knew it, they were in love.
But when Deeksha had told her father about him, he had slapped her and grudgingly said that she couldn't marry a military person. He was afraid that as the wife of a military man, his daughter might be inviting an early widowhood. He wasn’t interested at all. But Deeksha was adamant and when she said she would never marry anyone if she was denied marrying Jitender. Blood gushed forth as her father looked at her and didn’t speak to her for nearly two years after that. Later he was taken ill, because of a lung infection, which worsened and it became difficult for him to even swallow a morsel of breath. His close brush with death and intense suffering made him rethink about the decisions he had made in his life, particularly with regard to his daughter. But he was too proud to take the first step, so she had to wait for three more years to speak with her father again. He was fine now.
“Be a respectful woman in your new home Deeksha. Don’t be the kid that you were in our home. You should take care of your mother-in-law and father-in-law,” her mother said.
“Okay, mom. I will do. I promise,” Deeksha said. She was worried too, but her happiness about finally being able to be with Jitender, helped her overcome that fear. She knew how difficult it would be staying away from her mother, who had been there for her always. She thought about all the struggles that her mother had to go through for her. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she didn't cry because she did not want that happy moment to go away.
“The cab has come. Get in….. get in,” her father almost screamed now. He pulled the trolley bags and dropped the luggage into the dickey.
Deeksha finally kissed her mother on her forehead and wiped her tears with her fingers and said, “Take care mom, I will call you once I have reached my new home,” she said, not smiling now. Her eyes were glistening with tears. The sadness of leaving her childhood home had finally caught up with her. It weighed heavily on her, and she struggled to get into the cab. But finally, she and her husband were inside the cab, waving their hands at her parents.
It took half an hour to reach the railway station. It was crowded because the Dasara holidays had started. There were hundreds of people, smiling and waving. Particularly the children who were hiking, yanking, sneering and laughing. It was a great sight to behold in our eyes.
“The train to Amritsar will leave at 7.30pm. The passengers are kindly requested to get on board,” the female computerized voice said.
“What is the coach no?” Deeksha asked her husband.
He took a ticket from his pants pocket and looked at it, “S2, seat numbers 44, 45,” he said.
“There it is,” Deeksha pointed to the S2 coach, which was a couple of coaches front to them.
They finally settled into their seats. Jitender helped her put the luggage under their seats. He chained it safely with a small gold-coated lock. Deeksha sat in the window seat, looked at him with love as she rounded her long hand around his strong arm.
“I am so happy. I had made you wait for more than six years. I am sorry,” she said, as she leaned on his right shoulder. Her cheeks lightly flushed to pink.
“You were worth the wait. I would have waited my whole life for you. You are my love and am glad to finally hold your hand,” he said, his fingers were tightly laced with hers. The people who were passing by looked at them enviously. Jitender felt like kissing her, but he didn’t. They had never kissed before, but for a virtual kiss over the phone. Because he was serving in the army, he wouldn’t get holidays frequently enough to visit his home and meet her. He had to use the landline only at the given time, and it was difficult for a person who was in love. But their love had survived all of that. She loved him and that was all he needed. He thanked God for giving him a precious gift. Deeksha.
There were more people in the train now. Most of the seats were occupied. There was a large family sitting in front of them. Two small boys and two girls were playing antakshari with each other. They were singing songs from new Bollywood songs. The bubbly boy had sung a song from Shahrukh Khan movie ‘Jab Harry Met Sejal’. The other boy giggled and trolled him for singing poorly. The bubbly boy had turned his head around and was sulking.
“You lost….you lost,” the two small girls shouted into his ears.
He was annoyed. On seeing him, his mother had pulled him on to her lap.
“Hey girls, stop teasing our prince,” she said.
The girls giggled strongly now.
Deeksha and Jitender had seen this and shook their heads, smiling. The old memories of her childhood had sneaked into her mind. It made her nostalgic. On the other side, few couples in the berths behind them were praying to the Goddess Durga and asking her to bless them on this auspicious day. She could distinctly hear their mumbling prayers as it rushed to her ears. Some people were playing drums as a ritual practice because they had to go temple and sing Goddess songs after getting down from the train in Amritsar. They actually wanted to entertain the people in the train before they could perform at the real venue. Among them was a fellow with a soft beard, who played the drums and chanted along with it. The entire coach was enjoying themselves. The ambiance was perfect. Exactly like a festival.
“What’s your name?” Deeksha asked the small boy, who was looking sullen now.
He didn’t respond, but his mother replied, “Goyal.”
“That’s a nice name,” she said and tried to pull his cheeks, but he jerked her hand away and clasped his mother tightly.
“He is in bad mood,” his mother said, smiled.
“Mom, you are also smiling, eh?” he said and looked at his mother sadly.
She tousled his bushy hair, “My boy, it’s true only, no?”
“Daaaaad,” he screamed, as he released her mother’s clutch and ran to tuck his father’s waist. He was coming down from the platform after buying some Kurkure and Hide and Seek biscuit packets in his hands.
“What happened my boy?” he asked.
“Dad, they all are irritating me,” he said pointing his finger at his brother and his cousins.
Deeksha held her flat stomach tightly. She didn’t want to chuckle now.
“What??” his father brayed at them.
“Nothing, he is upset. Give him snacks,” his mother said. She was sitting in the corner of the lower berth.
He gave him Kurkure namkeen packet but he tried to grab the Hide and Seek biscuit packet too. Goyal's father pulled the biscuit packets away from him, but in the process, he lost his balance and was about to fall on a woman who was holding a small baby girl in the swaddled pink blanket. Her husband was in the back, but very close to her and just behind the washbasin in the coach.
“Excuse me,” the woman said, and she moved the baby to her complete right. The timing had been perfect otherwise, Goyal’s father would have crushed the small baby.
He precariously held one leg up and placed his hand on the side wall of the coach for support.
“I am sorry,” he said, as he tried to stand normally again.
“It’s okay,” the woman said, she was just a couple of years older than Deeksha. But she looked as beautiful as she was. Her long hair was silky and shiny. The small baby was beautiful too, just like an angel. Her tiny eyes glimmered like morning dew, and her arms were soft and pink. She was crying now because her mother's sudden movement had disturbed her sleep. Her husband was somewhat pissed off, but his wife’s calm approach had reined him.
Goyal had already finished both the namkeen and the biscuits before his father had taken a seat next to his mother. His cousins were sitting on the middle birth now, and they were talking about the rhymes which their teachers had taught them. The train was started moving as the bell tolled in the distance in the railway station. The small baby and her family settled down left to Deeksha in the single seaters which can be linked together. Husband and wife sat opposite to each other.
“Dear, I will come back, one sec,” Deeksha said and went to the washroom. Because of her father’s hurry and her mother’s affection, she couldn’t even pee before she had boarded in the train.
She came outside a minute later. The toilets were filthy and mader her feel nauseous. But once she came back she felt good, as the cold air brushed her cheeks and rustled her hair. The train was moving faster now. You could hear the wobbling noise it was making as running down on the tracks. She put her head down as washed in the sink, splashing water on her face a couple of times. There was no mirror above the sink. She almost lost her balance and fell down when an express train whizzed past like lighting in the opposite direction.
She wiped her face with a small floral kerchief as she walked through the aisle to her place. She was happy to see the small baby’s face, she felt like holding her in her hands. The woman had smiled at her as she saw her looking at the baby.
“Your baby looks so cute,” Deeksha said. She couldn’t restrain herself from saying this.
“Thank you,” the woman said, looking up at her. Her husband was reading India today magazine, but he didn’t greet her. He was lost in his own world. He did not seem to care for his baby girl either.
The train had stopped at the next station, and more people came inside. Due to dasara, there was a lot of rush. And since it would be five hours before the next train came, a lot of people had decided to get inside the sleeper coaches instead. Now, more families had come in, mothers yanking their children along with them. But most of them tried to stay near the doorway of the coach, but it was impossible as there were more people trying to get on board. They rambled, yelled, scorned, abused, poked, fisted and finally got in as the train started moving slowly.
“I have never seen such crowd before,” the woman said to Deeksha, who turned to look at the swarm of people rushing inside.
“My God, it’s huge,” Deeksha replied, as ran both her hands over her gaped mouth. “People sneak into the reserved sleeper coaches too?”
“It happens if it is festival time. Today is an auspicious day and you know how people would like to celebrate dasara, right?” the woman said. The baby girl was sucking her index finger.
“Yeah, but……….” Deeksha said, her eyes widened, “This is something I haven’t imagined before…..” There was someone tapping on her back. He was a man about forty years old, had a long beard and was clad in white kurta and pajama. Someone had pushed him because he was blocking the path, and he had suddenly dashed onto Deeksha.
“I am sorry, someone pushed me,” he said in a small voice.
Deeksha puckered her nose, but she knew their ordeal. She didn’t want to hurt a fellow who was looking ascetic and humble.
“It’s okay,” she said and dismissed him.
The woman looked at him and said, “These things are normal in trains. We better just keep quiet. You did the right thing,” the woman said.
“But...” Deeksha swallowed her words. “Fine, where are you going? Is Jalandhar your native place?” she asked.
“Yes, I am going to Amritsar to celebrate the Durga Pooja. This is the first time we are going after five years of marriage. We are very excited to see this grand event. I heard at least five thousand people would be there. I can’t wait to see it. I am already nervous. But I am so happy that I have brought my small baby along with me. This is going to be a memorable moment for us,” she said to Deeksha and averted her eyes at her husband, who lowered his magazine and threw a warm smile. His eyes were dark brown but he looked somewhat older than this woman. She could see a few grey hairs on the sides of his head.
“Really? That’s awesome. I will also ask my husband to take me there next year,” Deeksha said, her lips were pouted as she was little upset that she couldn’t participate in this event this year. But she was delighted to go and meet his parents and relatives. She had dreamed so much about them. There were tons of cozy feelings were locked in her heart, she can’t wait until tomorrow morning to see them.
“Why don’t you join us?” the woman asked.
“Thank you so much but we can't. The thing is I got married today,” Deeksha said shyly. Her rosy cheeks were flushing, she lowered her head. She thought how her parents wanted her to be married according to the Hindu custom, despite the fact that Jitender was a Sikh. Jitender parents agreed to this but didn’t want to participate. That had been a bit difficult for them to accept, but she was not going to worry about that.
“Wow, congratulations!” the woman extended her right hand to her, and her other hand was carefully holding her baby. “Where is your husband?”
“Thank you,” Deeksha said and turned her head to see her husband, who had put on headphones to watch movies. He had a Samsung tablet in his hand. A Rajkumar Hirani’s movie was running on it. He loved his movies and downloaded all of them.
“Jitender,” she called him out loudly, but he couldn’t seem to hear her voice. People were banging drums and singing and praying very loudly. The small kids were clapping and hooting. It was difficult for him to hear her as the train was running at the top speed, about 130 kph.
A balloon was flying above her, a small boy was chasing after it. He squeezed through others and tried to catch it. It had floated above everyone and was near the grilled cover of the round fan, and was being pulled towards it. Suddenly the balloon burst with a loud noise. Everyone fell silent, as they thought there had been a blast of some sort. The people in other coaches also felt uneasy. But after a few long seconds, the boy had started crying, “My ballooooooooooonn……..My balllllloooooooooonn,” as he wiped his tears. There was a collective sigh of relief in the coach. They realized it wasn’t a bomb. The people started laughing, “It was a balllllloooooooon.”
The drum beats, songs, prayers, murmurs started again.
“What Deeksha? Did you call me?” her husband said, slowly removed the headphones now.
She didn’t reply but turned to look at the woman and said proudly, “He is my husband. He is an army officer. You know, we got married after six years of long struggle with my parents.”
“That’s wonderful. I am glad that you guys are happy. He looks awesome. You both are made for each other,” the woman said. The baby was kicking her legs at her mother, maybe she was feeling hungry now. “Oh, oh….it’s feeding time. Excuse me.”
“Thanks for your compliments. We will talk later,” Deeksha said and came to sit down in her seat next to her husband.
It was around 9.30 pm, the adamant Goyal (a bubbly boy) was sleeping as his legs were spread apart on her mother’s thighs. He was snoring noisily, and his puffy chest was heaving up and down like a giant animal. You could see the creamy smudge of Kurkure and cookies around his mouth, and there was a small fly sitting on his upper lip. His cousins were tired after the antakshari game and were sleeping soundly as well. Even the drum beaters were tired and the music was gradually fading.
Deeksha had no idea which station was next, it was completely dark and until she had seen the lights outside she couldn’t guess anything. But she wanted the night to pass very swiftly. She was eagerly waiting to see the new dawn of her life unfold in front of her eyes. She had so many plans for tomorrow. She embraced her husband’s neck tightly, she wanted to kiss him. But she didn’t have the courage to do it. She ran her long fingers below his neck and could feel the searing heat of his skin. She could hear the throbbing heart beat inside his chest. If they had been alone, she would have kissed him everywhere she could. Still, she kissed him on his lips quickly, like a sudden flash of light when the switch is turned on and off. She felt elated.
“I love you, my sweetheart,” he said in a whisper.
A warm tear fell out of her left eye as she looked into his face, “I still can’t believe that we are together. I am really lucky to have a person who has waited for these many years for a girl like me,” she said, her lips were trembling. No one could hear them. Every word they said was filled with emotion, burning with the intensity of the sun.
He wiped her tears with his thumb and said, “I am glad that I have you by my side. I don’t know what good I had done in the previous life to get a splendid girl like you as my wife.” His words warmed her heart. She had never that she could ever be this happy. He no longer felt shy about holding her in his hands.
In the next moment, their bodies smashed into each other and were crushed. The express train had rammed into the huge crowd gathered near the manned crossing and in the outskirts of Amritsar, as they had celebrated the event of Durga Pooja in an open ground. A massive crowd had witnessed this sacred ceremony from the neighboring villages. After the pooja was done, the giant effigy of demon Ravana was being burnt. Some people wanted to look at it from a safe distance but they did not realize that they were too close to the railway tracks. The bursting crackers had exploded into a symphony of colors against the night sky, and everyone was too mesmerized by the sight to notice the train arriving. The effigies were burning fiercely, and people moved away from the fire and ended up right on the tracks, unaware of the impending disaster.
They thought nothing evil would befall them when they were around Durga while celebrating the Dasara. Some parents held their kids on their shoulders and pointed their fingers at the exploding crackers. It was a blessing for them, from the God of Parvati.
The train had crushed them into pieces. The roaring, shrieking, fumbling, screaming, could be heard everywhere. It had happened in a matter of seconds. There were broken bodies everywhere, dismembered heads and limbs. The tracks were splattered with blood. At least sixty people were dead. Their dresses were smeared with blood. It was difficult even to identify the persons, let alone save them. A man whose body had been severed into two was still alive, his eyes were blinking lifelessly. He didn’t cry. Maybe he had forgotten how to cry. He didn’t feel the pain, his senses were numb. But he was alive for a brief second, his heart thudded in his chest furiously as his body pumped up and down few times and he was dead. The hollering noises were heard everywhere. This auspicious place had turned out to be a site of death. You could hear groaning and pierce cry from the children who had lost their parents in the gruesome accident. Who was going to take care of them now? They didn’t even know how to ask others for help.
***