Death In The Hills: A Revelation

Chapter 4: The Man

"Chai lelo, Coffee lelo."

"Take Chai or Coffee."

Another hawker selling their wares half shouted in their trademark sing-songy voice, "Namkeen lelo, Chips lelo, pani lelo, buy something sweet and spicy, chips, or just water."

The general compartment of the local train was jam-packed with people, or rather just men. From thick black jackets to threadbare sweaters and more, the blue rubber seats and steel floors were full of people jostling each other to get some space to squeeze in. 

It was deep in December, and the winter sun had just started peeking through the clouds, but the heat inside was already unbearable, thanks to the unopened windows and doors. It felt like being in a tin box with everyone packed like sardines. 

The body heat, mixed in with the pungent smell of sweat and spicy food, created a nauseating scent that made many want to puke. Tall people tried to rise above the smell and crowd to take a whiff of air free of all the nastiness. 

But to no avail. 

There was no corner or space where the dense, sour, and acrid smell hadn't seeped in like slow poison. One man couldn't take it anymore and went into the small passage connecting one side of the compartment to the other. 

He opened the door of the compartment in one swing and was relieved to find that no one complained. The still-cold air of the morning rushed infrom outside and hit his bearded face and black shoulder-length hair. 

His full-sleeved brown chequered shirt protected him from the onslaught of the cold and heavy wind. But it's not like he felt much cold. 

In what seemed like an instant, the nauseating smell of the space dissipated, and he gulped a deep breath of air. Soon, some more people came to stand behind him in the passageway, and various voices and sounds expressing relief floated in his ears. 

He didn't look back at anyone. He was busy looking at the greenery passing by in a blur. It had been months since he had left his village to find some respite and some answers. 

But there was none to be found in any city or village, mountain or plateau, river or desert. He had searched high and low for some clues about his life but found none. Where was he from? Why was he here? Why were his adoptive parents killed?

These questions had swirled in his heart for years, and even now, he had no answers. But he couldn't spend his entire life wandering around. He had a sister to take care of and it was time to head back and take responsibilities for what was left of his family. 

He put his right hand on the pocket of his old and faded black jeans and felt the small amount of money he had left. He was going to buy Asha a small toy and bring something packaged to eat for the entire family at least. 

The man's eyes unfocused once again as they looked out into the distant.