Paakhi

To anyone else on the congested two tier berth of the Gitanjali Express, it was a regular day. But not for Aritro Bagh. His eyes had remained uncontrollably glued to the young woman on the lower berth. No, he wasn't awestruck by her beauty or anything; not that he would call her ugly entirely. She looked like someone who could look pretty gorgeous if she tried, but that was that. She hadn't...tried.

Her belongings were minimal; one backpack that hardly weighed more than an average Indian school going kid's bag and one suitcase that she had tucked under her legs protectively. In her arms, lay an almost new-born child. It looked like a girl, too young for him to draw any resemblance with the woman. Was the woman the mother of the child?

The woman looked quite young.

But he couldn't think of any other explanation for a child that young sleeping so peacefully in the arms of someone who was not her Mother. That, and how the woman's gaze dropped down at the child every couple of seconds with this weird protective and motherly warmth radiating from her eyes. He could see utter disbelief and wonder with which she would eye the little being in her arms.

Again, weird. If she was the Mother of the child, why did she look like she was having an awfully tough time letting the existence of the kid sink in? She would've had had to be pregnant for nine months to believe she really was going to have a baby. Why was she looking this fascinated now?

Was this some motherly instinct he had no right to comment upon?

Aritro shifted at his spot on his upper berth along the hall to get a better view of the woman.

Something was royally messed up with the woman. She wore sneakers a size too big for her feet with a baggy white kurti and skinny jeans. Her hair was barely visible through the hoodie of the sweatshirt she had pulled over her kurti. But it was her ragged breathing and distraught face that caught his attention most.

Her eyes scanned the train cautiously, like she were afraid of something....or someone.

Is she running away?

Aritro bit his lip, watching her eye a lone bottle of water. A part of him was against the idea of getting involved with her in any shape or form, but who was he kidding? He would die if he would have to keep looking at her from afar and keep assessing what was wrong with her. He'd always had these silly instincts about fishy things, and call it his grooming or whatever, he couldn't stop himself from trying to help strangers.

Only strangers. He was an ass to the people he knew in person. Oh the irony!

Leaning in for his duffel bag, he pulled out a sealed Bisleri bottle he'd purchased from one of the vendors on the train. One jump from his berth and he was standing on the floor. Train ladders were for midgets, he was a giant.

Apart from being eye-catchingly tall, he'd always felt like his lower half of the body was disproportionately longer than his upper half. It made him a great sportsperson, but not your ideal definition of sexy for a twenty seven year old man. Definitely not the kind of a physique you'd want to see on a magazine cover.

The sound of his jump had successfully startled the woman, her eyes had shot up at him with more fear than he could've fathomed to see before.

He suddenly felt utterly stupid. What was he thinking? That in such a moment of crazy fear she would even consider taking a bottle of water from him; a virtual stranger?

Aritro quickly looked away from her, and gripping onto the bottle headed towards the washrooms. Once at a fairly open space, far from the afraid woman, he let out a breath of air he didn't know he was holding.