Short Story: The Woman On The Train - II

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Resemblance to any person living or dead, to any organisation, place or thing is purely coincidental. 

 Part I - here  

“Bad day, eh?” (Man, she is talking to me!) Her voice was honeydew sweet. How could all things beautiful come to live on one person? Surely, we are not created equals.
“Uh…er... yeah…” I fumbled.
“Vinaya” she offered her hand.
“I'm Ranjan. People call me Ranj.” I returned.
“What time does this train reach Chennai tomorrow?”
“5.55 by the book” I replied.
“Oh! In reality?”
“Plus 30 minutes, if you are lucky.” (Whatta sense of wit, Ranjan! Maintain the tempo, dude!)
“And if I am not lucky?” (Hmm. She isn't any less witty.)
“The train wont reach Chennai. Ha ha!” (Idiot, you over did it.) She didn’t appreciate it. She scowled with displeasure. “I mean, it's usually never earlier than 6.30 and the worst I’d seen is 7.25!” I tried to make amends. She went quiet again.
“What are you? An IT guy?” she asked pointing to my laptop.
“Um… yeah! I work for Axenture.” I pretty much swallowed the words. I couldn’t take pride in saying that, because this isn’t the nineties and girls don’t fancy software guys anymore.
“What do you do actually?”
“Consulting - propose new solutions to enhance client’s business - develop, build, test and maintain the software we write – pretty much that.” (Why don’t you just tell the truth – all you do is monitor mainframe jobs and occasionally fix a bug or two?)
“That sounds like a lot of work.” she said looking half amused and half in awe.
“Yeah! Quite a deal. Yeah!” I bloated with pride. (Bloody liar!)
“So…what do you do?”
“Am a Human Rights activist.” (There goes it. She works for a cause. And you, mister?)
“Er..we basically work for….um…against this outdated law enacted during the Colonial era. Section three-seventy-…” Her voiced was drowned out by the crackling of a loud voise. No, actually it was a noice.
“Tickets please” came the TTE. She pulled the ticket out of her large handbag. That was the only baggage she was carrying. I explored a little more on her person. No wedding ring. None on the feet. Nothing around the neck to indicate matrimony. (Sigh! Boyfriend? Should I ask? No, not now.) The TTE moved on after verifying our tickets.
“Is that all you carry?” I asked pointing to her bag.
“Yeah. Was here for a conference. Rally rather. Jus’ came in this morning. A very short trip…so didn’t have much to carry” she reasoned out crisply.
"Uh... that Human Rights thingy?"
“Yeah. I work with this NGO called Sakhi dealing with women’s rights and privileges.”
“That’s great! You work for a cause unlike me.” (Way to go, Ranj. Girls appreciate self-mortification. So, next call yourself a swine, you shameless jerk!)
"Well, I do what I like doing. Nothing much." she retorted, modesty personified.
"Ha! You are trying to be modest." I said. She smiled at my comment. That nanosecond smile. But this time the lips moved. It was mesmerising. I looked out the window to avoid getting hypnotised. As the train slowed down to enter Vishnupuram RS I could pick some mobile signal. I immediately booted my laptop to check my emails. Murphy's law reigned. Laptop battery died. Instinctively, I blurted out the S-word.
"Something's wrong?" she asked earnestly.
"Battery's dead" I said pointing to my laptop, "Need to check some emails."
"Urgent?"
"Not quite, but important." I didn't want to talk about work. "Supper?" I asked.
"Er... anything vegetarian they sell aboard."
"That stuff tastes awful. Hardly palatable."
"Oh!" "You get nice idlys and pooris at Nadikode Junction. Limited supply. First come first serve. You gotta jump outta running train to grab your plate."
"Hey, sounds exciting!" she beamed. "Yeah. Idly or poori for you?" (Chivalry, eh?)
"Uh...idly" she said. I promptly displayed my heroics of jumping out of the moving train before it pulled to a stop, and got us each a plate of idlys.
"Thanks" she said with another nanosecond smile.
"Anytime." (Anything, anytime for an angel like you.)

After supper we talked about books, movies, etc. The usual hackneyed grind. But I would have done anything to keep looking at her. It was half past ten. We began to see pockets of light approaching us.

"Guntur Junction" I announced "The diesel loco gets replaced with an electric one here. We stop for fifteen minutes. There's a stall up there on the platform that serves some nice tea. A short walk after five hours of journey would do a lot of good. What say?" (Not bad Ranj, that was nicely put!)
"Sure, I'll go". Her split second smile bombarded me once more. We were walking down the platform. I began to think fast. Once we reach Chennai, she'll be gone. (It's now or never. I can't do something silly lest she thinks am trying to hit on her. So first, I find if she's got a boyfriend; if there is none, whoa, get her number and take it from there. But if there is one, hard luck, but no harm in taking the number. - Yeah! that's sensible enough. But how can I ask her without hinting what's on my mind. What are the chances she's thinking alike? S***! Why is this thing so difficult?) I was sipping my tea thinking on how to broach this subject. Her mobile rang.

"Excuse me", she took two steps away, "Hi.... yeah....quite comfortable....", retraced her steps, came closer and asked - "Are we running late?" still on the phone.
"35 minutes." I was on the dot.
She acknowledged me and was back on the call - "Yeah, I'll ring you in the morning. Love you." (Did I hear her say - love you?) Her last words might have sounded like music to the person at the other end. But it didn't go well with me. (Am I so pathetic? Not a whit of luck. Hey, hey, but...wait, there is still hope. It could have been her dad or mom, right?)  
...to be concluded. 

msr