A Fleeting Exchange

I was returning from Dehra when it happened. The train stops at Saharanpur and the compartment is filled with the same lilting laugh that fills my dreams. The sound of slippers slapping the floor followed.

My mind is racing. She's here. Does she know that I'm blind? Does she know that I know that she's blind? The answer to both the questions is a resounding no. And yet as my mind wanders to the various possibilities of this situation, the train horn sounds and the train starts to move.

A high pitched voice (her aunt) gives a final goodbye to the girl, with the promise of seeing her again next year.

The sound of slippers draws nearer as the train fastens it's pace along with my heart.

The slapping of her slippers comes to an abrupt stop at the seat opposite mine. I hear her shuffling and feeling for the seat before she sits.

Should I talk to her, I wonder. What should I say?

"Hello again," I say to her after much deliberation.

She is startled but replies almost immediately, "Ah, hello. We meet again."

Yes, we do, I thought to myself and said, "I hope your visit went well."

"It did. I enjoy spending time with my aunt and cousins. They are such lively people. How did your visit to Mussoorie go? Did you see the mountains filled with blooming white dahlias? Perhaps you drank a little brandy?" She asks teasingly.

I deliberate my answer for a moment but then decide to throw caution to the wind.

"I did actually drink a little brandy. But I didn't see the dahlias, I smelled them."

She pauses and I wonder if she is looking towards me.

"How did they smell?" She asks softly.

"Tantalizing and beautiful," is my answer.

She laughs and says, "I am glad. I wish I could smell them too, someday."

I realize then, that this is her confession of being blind too.

The engine's whistle shrieks and the train slows down to a stop. She gets up, collects her things but before she can move, I ask the question that has bugged me since I met her.

"How do you keep your hair?"

A surprised laugh escapes her lips and it's like the wind whispering secrets in my ear.

"I keep it short. Saves a lot of hassle."

I smile, the picture of her I had constructed in my mind, now complete.

"Goodbye, I hope we meet again."

"Me too," is the last thing she says before turning and finding her way to the compartment door where her parents must be waiting for her.

As the train starts moving again, I take a deep breathe and let it out to calm my nerves. I smell her perfume, lingering in the air and I think, tantalizing and beautiful.

Word Count: 471 words

Written On: 29th March 2018

Manu.K.