The train cut through the darkness like a blade.
Its wheels screamed against the tracks as it rushed across the sleeping countryside. Most passengers were either asleep or pretending to be. A few yellow lights flickered inside the old compartment, painting everything in tired shades of gold.
Near the window sat a girl who looked like she belonged nowhere near this train.
She couldn't have been more than nineteen.
A worn black backpack rested on her lap. Her fingers were wrapped around its straps so tightly that her knuckles had turned pale. She hadn't eaten properly since yesterday. Her stomach reminded her of that every few minutes.
She ignored it.
The girl had become very good at ignoring things.
Pain.
Fear.
Hunger.
People.
Especially people.
The glass window reflected her face back at her.
Large dark eyes.
Clear skin.
Soft features.
Long black hair that had escaped from its loose braid and now framed her face in messy strands.
The kind of face poets wasted ink writing about.
The kind of beauty that made strangers look twice.
Yet she seemed completely unaware of it.
Or maybe she simply didn't care.
Beauty was useful only if life gave you the luxury to think about it.
Right now, she was more concerned about whether the twenty-three rupees in her pocket could buy anything edible.
A baby cried somewhere in the compartment.
An old man snored.
Someone's phone played a movie at full volume.
The world continued as if hers hadn't fallen apart.
Funny.
She had always imagined that if her life ever collapsed, the sky would crack open or the earth would shake.
Instead, the train just kept moving.
The universe was disappointingly indifferent.
Her expression never changed.
No tears.
No trembling lips.
No dramatic breakdown.
Just a straight face.
The same face she had worn when everything happened.
The same face she had worn when she walked out of that house.
The same face she wore now.
People often called her cold.
Emotionless.
Proud.
They were wrong.
She felt everything.
She simply refused to give others the satisfaction of seeing it.
The train suddenly jerked.
A plastic water bottle rolled down the aisle and bumped against her shoe.
She stared at it.
For a second.
Two seconds.
Three.
Then she picked it up.
"Thank you," said the bottle's owner, a middle-aged woman sitting nearby.
The girl handed it over without a word.
The woman smiled politely.
The girl looked away.
Conversation ended.
Efficiency was beautiful.
Outside the window, darkness stretched endlessly.
Ahead lay a city she had never seen.
A city where nobody knew her name.
Nobody knew her past.
Nobody knew what had happened.
Good.
She preferred it that way.
She had no plan.
No relatives waiting for her.
No job.
No place to stay.
No idea what tomorrow looked like.
Only a nearly empty wallet and a stubborn refusal to go back.
Most people would call that a terrible situation.
She called it freedom.
A dangerous kind of freedom.
But freedom nonetheless.
Her stomach growled loudly.
She glanced down.
"Traitor," she muttered under her breath.
The stomach responded with another growl.
"Yeah, yeah. I heard you the first time."
The old man across from her opened one eye.
She stared back.
The eye immediately closed again.
Good choice.
The train continued forward.
The girl rested her head against the window.
For the first time in hours, exhaustion began to win.
Her eyelids felt heavy.
The cool glass pressed against her forehead.
Outside, distant city lights appeared on the horizon.
Small.
Faint.
Waiting.
A new city.
A new life.
Or maybe a worse one.
Who knew?
The girl certainly didn't.
And strangely enough, she was fine with that.
As long as she never had to go back.
Never.
The train raced toward the lights.
And somewhere between the darkness she left behind and the uncertainty ahead, the girl finally closed her eyes.
Her name was Mehek sharma.
And she had absolutely no idea what she was about to walk into.
YOU ARE READING
Raah- New Beginning
RomanceShe ran away with nothing but a backpack and a broken past. He had everything, except peace. In a city that belongs to neither of them, their paths are about to collide.
