Chapter 1The Chaos

I peeled myself out of the seat and navigated the narrow aisle toward the washroom. As expected, the door was locked from the inside. There were people sitting on the floor near the exit gate, and the air carried a smell I couldn't quite place, a mixture of rusted iron and neglected plumbing. I kept walking until I saw the toilet in the adjoining coach was unlocked. I did my business and stepped out to the washbasin, scrubbing my hands and the damp spots on my T-shirt with frantic energy.

That's when I saw him.

A guy probably in his mid-20s, sitting right by the open train door, his legs dangling near the blurring tracks. He held a cigarette in his hand, his eyes closed, the ash growing long because he wasn't actually smoking it. He looked like he had stepped out of his own body, lost in a thought so deep he’d forgotten the world around him. The hot wind was caressing his hair, and for a second, I felt like the next gust would simply take him down I generally avoid talking to strangers; Delhi teaches you that, but I wasn’t about to let someone die on my watch. Just then, a train screamed past on the parallel track. A massive, deafening gust of wind caught him squarely in the chest, almost knocking him clean out of the open door. I didn't even think, I just charged forward and grabbed his hand, holding on with everything I had. The sheer panic of the close call finally brought him back to his senses.

The train roared away, leaving a ringing silence in its wake. I didn't let go of his hand until he was completely clear of the doorway.

"Bhai, are you alright?" I asked, checking him over before the anger of pure panic took over. "You can't sit there, bro. The wind almost took you out. Move inside before something worse happens."

This time, the words registered. As I turned to step back, I heard him murmur something so low I almost missed it: “Maybe it’s for the best.”

“What??” I thought, a chill running down my spine despite the April heat. I turned back to him, my eyes narrowing as I scanned his face. He seemed like a decent guy, but his eyes were heavy with a weight I couldn't identify.

"Bhai, is everything okay?" I asked. It wasn't that I suddenly cared about his life story, but the basic human instinct took over and I couldn’t just walk away

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to...” he trailed off, his voice hollow.

“You didn’t mean to what? You could die, brother. You need to be careful out there,” I replied, my corporate tone slipping into genuine concern. My heart gave a heavy thump as the gravity of his state sank in.

“There’s nothing much left for me here, maybe that will soothe things a little,” he said, giving another cryptic reply.

"Where are you heading?" I asked, trying to ground the conversation.

"Lucknow," he replied.

I had been to Lucknow earlier as some of my relatives live in that City of Nawabs, and him telling me that city name was enough for me to get into a conversation. I couldn't leave him sitting at the edge of an open door with that kind of mindset. I shifted my weight, leaning against the vibrating metal wall of the vestibule. "I am from Allahabad," I said. "Is that your hometown, or are you just visiting?"

"Everything. I am going back after two years." he responded promptly.

The answer was deep and suspicious, but I ignored the red flags for a moment and asked, "What's your name, by the way?"

"Eklavya," he replied.

"I am JaiV, but you can call me Jay."

"Thanks, Jay. It was nice meeting you," he said, finally flicking his cigarette out into the blurring green landscape.

"Likewise. By the way, being a guy from the same state, would you mind me asking why you were sitting like that? You were so lost in your own head you could have slipped right out. What's bothering you?" I asked the question in one breath, my curiosity finally winning.

"Nothing, I was just thinking about the old days," he replied, his gaze returning to the horizon.

"Oh yes, but you seemed like you went in there too deep. What's so special about those days?" I was just killing time, and staying here felt better than heading back to my vomit-stained seat.

"You don't want to get into those details, plus I don't think I can share all that with some stranger I just met," he said firmly.

Well, I wasn't expecting that bluntness. That only made me more curious; now I really wanted to know more. "I am sorry if I caught you off guard, but you don't have to be rude," I said, crossing my arms as if I were equally disinterested. "It's fine if you're uncomfortable sharing."

"Sorry brother, I am not in my senses, and it's not like that," he said, his voice softening to calm me down. "But I don't think you want to waste your trip listening to my bullshit."

Honestly, wasn't that interested at first, but the thought of that crowded RAC seat and the metallic smell of the sleeper coach made this a much better deal. "Sorry if I sounded rude, it wasn't intentional," I said with a smirk. "And I'm actually very much interested in listening to your bullshit."

At that, the ghost of a smile finally touched his face.

"Okay, but then you won't have any escape route," he replied, a short, dry sound.

"Deal," I smiled back.

We both sat by the train door side-by-side, the rhythmic clack-clack of the wheels acting as our metronome, and he began his story.