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Wind Beneath My Wings - IV

Read part I
Read part II
Read part III

Time was running away from him, and he had to catch it before it was too late. After all he did not come all this way to go back empty handed. The task at hand was rather bizarre – he had to make a girl fall in love with a rank stranger ,like him, before it was 10:10PM that day.To be fair he did not know about this fine print until much later in the day.

Love was perhaps the last thing on her mind, much like the last compartment on that train, or maybe that was just a co-incidence I noted. But something had to be done, and done now ,lest this time might never come back again.

As the train moved, he thought about it for a moment, reassessed his credentials in his mind. He came from a well-to-do family, was well educated and should I say, well travelled. He was family oriented and women found him attractive…or so his father told him ever since his mother had passed away when he was a child. He dressed well and had good manners as a part of his family tradition. So what more could a woman like Rosalyn want or ask?

But he was in for a surprise.

The train had now picked up speed, he glancing over his watch, and decided to make the first move. He went and sat in front of her in the opposite seat. She briefly looked at him and then looked away nonchalantly. His heartbeats grew louder. He managed to gather some courage and blurt out -
‘Errm excuse me, ma’am please don’t misunderstand, but I –I do think we need to talk’.

She jerked back with a sharp look, and stared right into my eyes. It paused his world for a few moments. Everything around him had come alive. It made him wonder how beauty could be so illuminating, glowing, even the glaring lights in the compartment wondered in amazement. The fans thought of giving an extra effort so that those silken locks could swing rhythmically to the beat of the wheels.

The mute photograph beside the door pined for just one glance, while the handle bar was perhaps the most fortunate to have been the only one in touch with her. The doors tried looking away, a case of sour grapes perhaps, but couldn’t help but rattle and make a noise expressing their frustration.

As for the rest of the heartbeats in the compartment, sleep had cloaked their sights, and such ignorance was bliss for him. His heart  pounded, sulked and almost jumped out. While the  mind fought a tough battle to keep it from leaping out. The fragrance from her body surrounded him, words struggled to find a structure, pattern or meaning, and thoughts ran like wild horses. A few strands of hair arched over her forehead and danced in front of  tender eyelashes, which had their own story to tell.

The shy lips were ever so slightly parted, perhaps feeling uncomfortable from the obvious gaze, they moved in perfect harmony swaying to the perfect symphony created by the master Himself.
The incisive right canine bit them into reality. The dangling pendant on her lovely neck, watched all those unleashed imaginations passing by, guessing what lay beneath. The light pink handkerchief clutched in her perfectly conical palms, felt warm and secured, it bore the imprints of those tender lips.

The rogue overhead speaker system jolted him out of his stupor, as he realized those moments what seemed like an eternity, were just a few seconds old. She was looking at him intently while his diluted eyeballs came back to focus on reality.

‘You see this might seem odd to you, but you and I need to talk about history –  a past from a long time ago. Well we actually know each other from a long time. He paused and then said -

 ‘And I have been waiting for the last four years.’

A barrage of questions followed.

‘Four years? You know life is good – get one for yourself’.

‘Why me? Why now ? And who are you?’

‘Uh-umm I am …’ he hesitated not because he had forgotten his name, but because his mouth refused to listen to his mind – it was too busy gaping at her. Before he could go on further, she interjected.

‘Ah yes, I know, you are Mr. Romeo and I am Miss.Juliet’ she snapped sarcastically.

He was dumbstruck for a moment. He had to do something to grab her attention and make her believe his story. Though to be fair it was just the beginning, she had no clue about who he was or where he came from.

His life was perhaps near perfect. And there lies the catch. Near perfect and being perfect, has perhaps the deepest pitfall. He should’ve known, but he didn’t see it then. They say love is blind, and he was perhaps going to become the leading example of that expression.

But before we move on to what happened in the train that night, I need to tell you a little bit about the boy.

Gyanban Thoughts - Part  V  has a new dimension coming up.


  1. wow!the story is captivating!
    eagerly waiting for the next part!
    AH !that's the very reason I hate stories in segments!!:P
    anyways ..
    be back with the next part soon! :D

  2. Ahha...a love story! Waiting to read more!


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It's 5AM and the clock is late,
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but the wrinkle is annoying the mane,
and the greys are flaying the vein,
I carry the mirror in mind,
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The train is packed with eyes,
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the dark skin is brighter,
maybe they'll like me better,
their shampoos leave no clue,
only the fan comes to my rescue.

Waiting for the elevator,
a minty breath drifts over the shoulder,
the noose around my neck chokes
gasps for breath and the heart pokes
the lights are incandescent inside
empty faces on the outside.

The tube-light and the guard flickers
People wearing strange monikers
floating close to the floor
a door opens, the stupor
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