Untouched

It was the third time I read the poster out loud, which was stuck on the metro station’s notice board, which said – “Please be informed that all stations will remain closed on Thirty-slash, four-slash, twenty-twenty-eight, due to the terrible weather condition. Please cooperate and act accordingly. Thank you.” and a lady in her late twenties who sat beside me was already sick and tired of listening to my disturbing voice. Oh, I could say that because her subtle expressions were loud enough for me to understand.

I thought that she’d revolt. But, she had her own ways to avenge her book which had slipped out of her hands and fallen onto the platform with a thud.

She said “Congratulations! you read it right. Now, can you please keep it low? I was in the middle of something and you totally messed it up.”

Before she could bend, to reach her book – which looked like an ancient encyclopedia, I picked it up and patted it three times, for it to get rid of all those tiny dust particles which had clung to the hardcover after the fall. After handing the heavy-old-book over to her, I looked below if anything was left unpicked. There was a lonely, white, rectangular piece of paper – not larger than an A-Five, lying on the floor which stood out, as a contrast to it. I had to pick that up too, as I was very curious to read the words inscribed on it.

– By SC.

It is so hard to plagiarise these days. So, I’d like to leave it un-copyrighted.

Little girl, remember, it was the Twentieth of August, Twenty-Seventeen.

My brain didn’t seem to understand – whatever it just went through. So, I had to turn it over, expecting to see or read something less mysterious.

It turned out to be a pencil-sketch, which, in my opinion, was an abstract.

Even before I could appreciate the work-of-art, she snatched the paper from my hands, just like that person who steals the last slice of pizza from your hand – and then, she carefully slid it inside the heavy-old-book, and slammed it on the bench, which allowed very less space for me to sit and wait for the next overcrowded train.

I stared at her sunburnt face, with my eyes which tried to convey my thoughts about her outrageousness. She cackled and hid her face in the face-mask which was previously hanging around her neck and continued to laugh uncontrollably until the air-filter from her mask detached and fell onto the platform. This time, she stood up from the bench and repositioned herself closer to the air-filter and crouched to pick it up and fastened it to its original place. She walked back to her bench and began to stuff her belongings back into the handbag, including the pink-coloured face-mask which looked very dull and faded due to the average mid-day temperatures of forty-five degree centigrade.

Then, there was enough place for me to sit down and make changes in my phone, and also, my dear life.

While I marched towards my seat, I heard a train, honking far behind me, signalling to leave the platform, after letting a horde to move out and allowing the same number of people into its bogies. I noticed that she was the last person to board the overcrowded train. Then, she quickly turned around and signalled me to get on-board. But, I shrugged and sat down.

When the doors began to shut, I jumped up and ran towards the bogie in which she stood. I made sure that I wouldn’t get closer to the train when it starts to zip away.

I said “Sour Candy! You are Going to Come back to Bangalore again.”
Of course, it had to end without a question mark.