170×170 day 9 9.5.15

9 9.5.15

The train was standing silently, waiting for the signal, there was something charming about that, the windows visible in the darkness, like small boxes of lights, the doors.


A man or a woman standing in the door sometimes, looking out, maybe they too were looking at the buildings and our windows, wishing they were home!


Or just like her imagining what people were doing in their homes, like she imagined what they were thinking, doing or where were they going!


Trains always stir imagination, don’t they? She remembered her childhood, she used to lie in bed and listen to the rumbles of wheels of late night train,

thackata thackata thack…


a steady rhythm, like music, she always wondered how the driver feels when he drives at night, miles after miles, the passengers fall asleep but he stays on guard, watching, just as much as headlight allowed, surrounded by an ocean of darkness, sometimes a station passed by, then miles of absolute darkness. It always unleashed her wildest imagination, craziest fantasies!








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