It was the summer of 2015, when I first saw you on train. Your reflection on the window caught my attention. The way you were looking at your mother and smiling. I could see the love you had for her in your eyes.
I was freshly out of the school. I swear, the 18 year old me was completely smitten by 26 year old you. It was a four hours journey. One hour I spent on just thinking how beautiful you look and why on earth you speak so well and why you smile so often. Just why?! My little-soft heart just couldn’t handle it. You sat next to me and my heart did skip a beat.
Finally, we spoke to each other. You asked me if I were a student and if yes what do I study? I said, “recently I passed out 12th.” Although, I wanted to say that I want to study the master’s mind who created you. You were an artist yourself. You told me that how much you love sketching and that is what you always wanted to do the rest of your life. How you were forced by your parents into science and how much you craved studying arts. You told me about your elder brother whom you treasured and would do anything for him. He was your everything. The first time in my life I led someone speak the whole time and I was bounded to listen to you. You told me about your school days, then college days, then went on sharing your dreams. It was such an amazing night.
With a hault of the train, our four hours “not so long” journey came to an end. I didn’t want to go, but had to. The best part in the entire story is I still don’t know your name. I don’t know where you live. I don’t what you’re doing right now. I just had the memory of those four hours spent with you on train. I never felt that way for any stranger before or after you.