I saw her two years ago. I am not very good at remembering dates but it was somewhere around April. I was in the metro, returning from college. I had worn black jeans and torn socks, I remember this because my Taxation professor commented on my appearance in the class. I don’t remember anything else of that day, except meeting her of course. I remember that vividly.

The train stopped and I could see people pushing to get out fast. It was very crowded. A man had dropped his cell phone and was frantically searching for it. He was on all fours trying to locate the five inch device. He asked me to call his number. I did, and he could locate his phone which was under a seat, pushed away into a corner by the whizzing crowd. The seat was occupied by a burly old man, who refused to leave a seat when the man wanted to pick his phone up. Both got into a verbal feud. During this commotion, I saw her.

She was standing with her hand on the pole, wearing a white top with frills and blue jeans. Her hair was red with long waving curls. She was typing a message and her brown sparkling eyes were fixed on the cell phone, she seemed happy. A green bag hanging loosely from her shoulder indicated that she was a student. Her lips were a perfect curve; little earrings and a funky necklace were the only accessories she had, and the big silver watch too. Her face was angelic, perfect proportions and all. I couldn’t stop looking at her. But she barely looked at me that day. After all, I wasn’t exactly look-able material.

I won’t lie; it wasn’t “love at first sight”, nor was she the prettiest girl I had ever seen. She was simpler than most Delhi girls. And she didn’t have the girl-next-door look either. But seeing her there made me feel… calm. I don’t know why but I was reminded of the few good moments in my childhood when the world seemed simple and beautiful.

She got off two stations before me. The next day went as usual, and no, I didn’t think of her the whole day. I remembered her only when I was back in the metro heading to my home. I was wondering whether I would see her again and no surprises there… I didn’t.

A couple of weeks went by and I had forgotten about her. Caught up in studies and work, I didn’t even spare her a thought. My exams were near and trying to control the pressure was taking the best of me. I was returning from my exam, reading the question paper on the train back home. When I looked up I saw her sitting opposite to me. My heart skipped a beat when I saw the beautiful face again, but something was different; she looked sad and for some reason that made me angry. I could see little tears forming in her eyes; her hands wrapped around her bag, hugging it tightly.

I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to hold her hand and tell her everything will be alright. But I couldn’t. I shuddered to think how she would react. She didn’t sob, but I could make out something was terribly wrong. I wanted to make it right; I wanted the spark back in her eyes. I don’t know why I wanted to help her so much. After all I had seen her only once before.

I didn’t look at her, afraid how I am going to react if our eyes meet. My examination troubles seemed miles away. I was angry and feeling pangs of guilt in my stomach. The fifteen minute trip with her seemed like hours. After she got off, it got worse. I didn’t know why I was acting so “emo”, I am usually rarely concerned with the problems of people around me.

That was the first night when I thought of her. I tried to concentrate on preparing for my exam tomorrow, but couldn’t for long.  I resolved to myself that the next time I see her; I am going to talk to her. I wasn’t sure of what exactly I would say, because I didn’t want to think about the possible consequences.

The next day went painfully slow. The exam surprisingly went fine, considering how bad my preparation was. And I was trying to motivate myself to talk to her in case I see her today. The train was full, and I had already prepared the conversation starter excuse on my way to the station. I sat on the seat closest to the door and kept my eyes fixed on the door, hoping I would see her sleek frame enter.

And she did…

For a few seconds everything went into a standstill. I noticed little bags below her eyes – she had been crying. Her hair was tied by a black band and her face looked sad. She looked at my direction and saw me staring. Our eyes met, and I smiled at her. She gave a little smile back. I stood up and offered my seat to her. She tilted her slender neck to the side and said “No, its okay.” Her voice sounded like a little girl’s. So… pure and innocent, you’d think you were reading a manga. I responded with an awkward “Please, I insist.” And she sat down thanking me with an inaudible “Thank you”.

“So, you travel by this train daily?” I said.

“Oh god, what must she be thinking of me. That sounds like I plan to stalk her”, I thought.

She replied, “No, I had come for my exams. I am a private student.”

A sudden relief came to me. “Oh well… so maybe she was sad because she had a bad exam. Phew! And here I was thinking the world is conspiring to kill her.”

“Ah! Nice. Which…” Her phone rang and she got busy trying to take it out of the bag from under her books.

I missed the opportunity to ask her which course she was in. After her fifteen minute conversation on phone, which I assume was with a friend of her’s; it was too late to start the conversation again. Her station came and she left the train after a polite smile.

I knew I had missed my chance. The next three days passed in the same way, with polite nods and little smiles, sometimes a high eyebrow raise in substitute of “Hey there!”. I could notice her swollen eyes, but thought it had to do with her exams. I didn’t have the audacity to tell her that everything is going to be fine. I guess I was being selfish again by not wanting to risk the chance of seeing her. After all, there are many different metros and she can easily change one to avoid me. I feared alienation.

But I cared for her…

It was the last day before the winter break. I was back on the train. I had finally shed my inhibitions and selfishness to just ask her if it were the exams that were troubling her. I was early and was waiting at the station. I bought a chocolate just in case it helps to cheer her up. I was sitting on the seat closest to door again. My tried and tested conversation starter trick ready, I waited for her to come. Suddenly I remembered about the man who had lost his cell phone and wondered what had happened after he got into the fight. Her station was just seconds away and I rehearsed the entire conversation in my head and hoped that there would be no distractions this time. The station came.

She didn’t.

I cursed myself for not talking to her before, but kept looking at the door and hoped she would magically appear and I can set things right again. My stop came and I went home.

I bathed in self-loathing that night. I couldn’t sleep. The next day I went back to the station, just to give it one more shot. I had to. I couldn’t stop myself from it. I would wallow in self-hatred otherwise.

I was at the train again, sitting on the same seat as before, hoping she would come. I tilted my head every time someone entered to see if she was behind them. But, she never came. I did the same for the next three days to no avail and then gave up.

If I just could go back one day!

I slept at nights remembering the last time I had seen her. She was wearing a bright pink coloured top with blue jeans. A strand of her hair, the usual curly red, touched her cheeks as she put them behind her ears with her fingers. Her enchanting eyes were staring at the floor, unwavering. Her face was an epitome of sadness. “What was she thinking about?” I kept asking myself that, hoping I would be able to figure out an answer. I never could.

When my college reopened, I had that faint hope that I would see her again, even though I had given up on the thought after two months of cursing my cowardly self. But I never did see her again… not until yesterday.

I was to join my first office yesterday. I had managed to clear off the exams well, and was fortunate enough to get a good job offer. I called up my parents to tell them I would be going by train as I didn’t want to be late on the first day.

I took a newspaper at the station and got on the train. I sat down and was browsing through the newspaper when I saw her. The same uncanny eyes, the red curly hair, the perfect proportion face, the slender neck.

It was impossible not to recognize her. It was her – printed in colour with a big headline above her face that said:

21 Year Old Commits Suicide – Reason Unknown

-xxxxxxx-

Sweet Child Of Mine – Guns N’ Roses

(Link to youtube video)

She’s got a smile that it seems to me
Reminds me of childhood memories
Where everything was as fresh as the bright blue sky
Now and then when I see her face
She takes me away to that special place
And if I stared too long
I’d probably break down and cry

Where do we go
Where do we go now
Sweet child
Sweet child o’ mine

This is my second attempt at a short story (The first one was a Lion King fanfic. Yes, I know!) If there are any errors (grammatical or otherwise) please tell me. Also, please let me know where I can improve – Thanks!

P.S. Thanks to Ankur and his friend for helping me out during proofreading. Thanks a lot man!

Thanks to PHM and Manali too for helping me out!