20
𓂃𓊝𓂃

It was a cold December evening. The sun was setting behind the roof of the railway station, and the cold air began to cascade down the platforms. The railway station was packed with people boarding the trains, people receiving and bidding goodbye to their friends and families, workers carrying the travellers' bags, and people selling tea and samosas to the passengers inside the train. The aroma of freshly brewed tea wafted in the air. I made my way to the platform where Apoorva's train would arrive, trying not to bump into people passing by. I took a seat on a bench and placed my bag next to me. Around me, people of different ages and backgrounds indulged in different activities. I sat there eagerly waiting for Apoorva's train to arrive. As the needle of the clock was nearing 5, an announcement was made in a sweet female voice.

"Your attention, please. Train No. 12739 Cochin-Bombay, Lokamanya Express, is running late by 2 hours."

I sighed. But two hours were much shorter compared to the 151 days without him. Two more announcements were made in Marathi and English, followed by the previous announcement in Hindi.
The people waiting to receive the passengers let out a collective, exasperated noise. A few trains came and went. I sat there looking into the crowd, watching people board and leave the trains-people with different lives, stories, sorrows, and dreams. There were hundreds of people with hundreds of stories that I knew nothing of. My eyes grew weary of watching them. My head felt heavy, and my eyelids drooped. My eyes couldn't bear the strength of the piercing lights on the platform. The world in front of me faded into thin air like a dream. The noise around me became nothing but a mere buzz of bees. I was slipping into the arms of sleep, and it wrapped me in a soft blanket of coziness. I could still hear the chai wala's loud voice and smell the aroma of spicy samosas wafting in the air.

...

A distant rumble of train reached my ears followed by the screeching of breaks, noise of people getting off the train, banging of metal trunks against each other. The cold air was piercing its sharp needles into my skin.

Someone is calling my name.

My own name sounds unfamiliar to me.

"Roopali ji?"

He is trying to wake me up.

His touch is alien to my skin.

I adjusted my eyes to the light. Everything was a blur. A man stood in front of me.

It's not Apoorva.

I do not recognize him at all.

"Roopali ji?" He asked again.

The railway station came to life again. People were talking, and their voices were too loud for my ears.

"Are you Roopali Agarwal? I've only seen you in a photograph." The man said.

"Yes." My voice came out as a whisper. I stood up. My bag was where I kept it. The clock on the railway platform showed 7:30 p.m. And the only thing I could think about was, 'Where is Apoorva?'

"Photograph? What photograph?" I asked him.

I saw the blood drain from his face. He was silent. As if I had asked him to reveal a secret that would cost him his life.

"Who are you?" I asked again.

"I am Sub-lieutenant Chetan. I-I work with Apoorvananth Rathore."

"Oh. Where is he? He said he'd be here at 5."

His face was expressionless.

"Did he send you to pick me?"

"No." Chetan's voice trembled. A bad feeling rose from the bottom of my heart.

"Then...?"

His eyes were welling up.

"Where is he?" My voice was getting louder, and everything seemed terrifying to me.

I was in a strange place with a stranger, and I did not know what to do. I felt like a abandoned, mortified, helpless child.

"Is the train delayed for an hour again? When is he coming?"

"He... He is not coming."

"Wha... Who are you to say that? He said he's coming today. And you think you can come here and spew stupidity out of your mouth like that?"

"I'm sorry." He handed me a package.

I did not like the feeling running through my veins. My hands and feet were engulfed by the cold grip of fear.

I opened the package. A pristine white Navy uniform.

My heart lost all of its colours.

A newspaper was next to it.

Eight Navy Personnel Killed In An Explosion On INS Tara.

Eight naval personnel have lost their lives in an explosion on INS Tara at the naval dockyard in Cochin. 17 sailors with severe injuries are being treated at naval hospital.

The explosion occurred in the engineering department of ship. Responding immediately, the ship's crew brought the situation under control, preventing any major material damage, the Navy said.

"...We couldn't save him."

Chetan's voice is molten lead poured into my ears.

The blood running through my veins is cold as ice.

The voice of people around me is like the buzz of bees.

"His body was given to his family."

"Stop."

I am still asleep. This is a nightmare. I would wake up at any moment.

Apoorva would wake me up from this nightmare.

Seconds passed. He didn't wake me up.

Reality seeped into my body like a deadly poison.

Then and there, I died with him.

...

However, my legs carried my lifeless body outside the railway station. I had my bag in one hand and Apoorva's uniform in the other.

"Will you be okay here alone?" Chetan had asked as I walked out.

Okay?

I will never be.

The cold breeze hit my cheeks as I stepped out of the railway station. There was terrible pain in the back of my head. A fog shielded my vision.

I'm fading away. Just like the fog when the sunlight comes.

I could not see the street lights anymore. Everything is pitch black.

...

I'm on a boat in the middle of the sea.

The sea is calm and serene, but it doesn't last longer.

It took just two waves to capsize the boat. And I'm hanging on to the boat for my life.

Someone's voice is coming from the skies.

And a familiar pain on the back of my head.

The sea is slowly drying out. There is no water now, just mud.

I am no longer hanging for my life.

"Are you okay?" Somebody asked as I adjusted my eyes to the hot, intense light emitting from the light bulbs above me. An unflattering smell of medicines invaded my nostrils.

I was in a hospital, perfectly wrapped in a green hospital blanket. I averted my gaze toward the people standing beside me. A man wearing a stethoscope and a woman.

"What's your name?" The doctor asked as he examined my eyes.

"Roopali Agarwal."

He scribbled something on his notepad.

"How long have I been here?"

"An hour, probably. She took you to the hospital." The doctor replied. The woman near him smiled at me.

"Well, you don't have to worry. It's quite normal during this time." The doctor said.

"During what time?" I asked.

"The second trimester. Fainting normally happens during this period, but you need to take proper rest."

My heart dropped several thousand feet. A weep dried down at the back of my throat. I was pretty sure of the fact that I was dreaming until I remembered that I had missed my menstrual cycle for the past few months. I did not suspect anything since having irregular cycles was normal for me.

I felt my world tumbling down and exploding from the inside.

"You didn't know? Did you?"

The woman's voice pulled me back to the real world, which was still alive. I wished I was still inside that dream-stranded on a ship in the middle of the sea. But no, I was pulled back to the reality where Apoorva is just a memory. He was gone. Disappeared into the deepest trenches of the sea.

"That you're pregnant?" She asked again.

A tear rolled down. Can dead women bear children?