Short Stories

Platform No. 7 – Short Story (Part 2)

(Continued from Part 1. Click here to read the 1st part of story.)

Bhola drank a mouthful of water and then started speaking.

‘So the chawl owner with whom we spoke the last week and finalized upon the rate, suddenly refused to give us the room. I had gone to see him again this morning and had a minor fight as well, but to no avail. He is just not relenting. Room dene ka hi nahi hai usko.’

‘Why so?’ asked Aseefa.

‘I told him that you and I are getting married and we needed the house urgently, but it seems he has got some better customer who is now ready to pay much more than us.’

‘How much more?

‘1-2 thousand more’.

‘How can he do this? I will go and ask the owner myself.’ Aseefa was seething in anger.

‘No point of doing that now. He has decided already. It’s ok Assu, we will save more money and get some other better room next time, till that time our platform number 7 is there for us.’ Bhola smiled and stroked her hair strands that were falling on her face.

They both had planned so much around for the past couple of months for their wedding and so was hounding for a room to stay, suddenly it all went into nothingness. Aseefa sat there, not knowing what better to do, silent.

She shed a few tears and looking at Bhola, said with expectant eyes. ‘I don’t want to live in this platform all my life Bholu, you said we will live in a proper room someday, get married and do our own business. I had believed you. Will that ever happen?’

‘It has to happen. It will surely happen. Have faith in me. Thumped Bhola.

It was quarter to 10 am now and they had still not had their tea together. Bhola went and quickly got the tea. The happy-go-lucky Bhola gave the tea plastic cup to her and said in his inimitable style with a broad smile on his face, ‘Sorry madam, aaj late ho gaya’ (sorry madam, I got late today).

Aseefa couldn’t help a droplet spill over from her eyes. This man gave her the most precious thing that she could have asked for – Love. She would go to any length to be with him, thought she. It was Bhola who had assured her that they wouldn’t live along the platform anymore and would live a better life, like all others. It’s one thing to dream and another to see that dream materialize. However, poverty and homelessness wasn’t something that they feared as they had each other to fall back on. Their love and faith on each other was their biggest strength.

They slowly sipped the hot tea together.

Breaking the momentary silence between them, Bhola spoke, ‘So what if we couldn’t get this room, we will save more and more money, and buy a room soon. I wish to have my own shop of perfumes one day. We will do good; I am sure we will.’ Finishing his tea, Bhola said with a renewed energy. His face blushed as he spouted those words, every vein in his body was infused with the will to see the day they so desperately envisioned together. They were not the ones to give up so soon.

As the day progressed, the two once again geared up towards their daily duties,
shedding the temporary malaise over yet another pitfall. The locals trains were wheezing past the track one after the other, indifferent to the rest of the world. Daily commuters, through hurried steps moved up and down.

Aseefa started calling out to her customers (mostly Hindus) for buying flowers from her and Bhola moved around brandishing the small Attar bottles targeting his own set of customers (mostly Muslims).

Amidst all these people who throng railway stations, bus stops, metros & airports every day, these two minuscule creatures thrusted themselves once again in the vast ocean of life. Their hope – to live a better life, their strength – Love.

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