There she sits, in front of me, looking outside through the window. Oblivious to everything and everyone around her, she pulls her shoulder bag close to her body. It’s raining outside, and the light is fading, she’s got to reach home fast. Her eyes look out of the window, seeing nothing. Cars, buses and two-wheelers bustle past. The city skyline is moving farther away. She’s going home, at least in my fantasy.
I’ve seen her often in this very same bus. Always on the same seat, always with the same posture. She never talks to anyone. Every time, she seems to be preoccupied with something, and hence people never talk to her. Her silence nags my curiosity. I’ve asked some people who frequent the bus with me, and nobody knows who she is, or where she comes from.
She’s an enigma in herself.
***
To tell the truth, I’ve always wanted to read people’s minds. Understand their thoughts and dreams, and know whether their actions reflected them. Whether they questioned what they saw, or accepted the world as it is. Not being able to do so, frankly annoys me.
And so does this person who sits in front of me. I’ve not been able to figure her out till now. She’s closed to everyone. Never lets on something that one can identify with. She just stares outside that window with those infuriatingly glassy eyes.
***
You may ask, what does she look like? Well, let me give it to you straight away, she’s not the person who people stare at across the street. A city street, that is. Very plain, hair medium length, tied in a common plait. Quite ordinary, you might say. In fact, she’s too ordinary. I think that’s what captured my attention the first time.
***
Now there’s movement! She stands up, and transfers the shoulder bag to her shoulders. Unobtrusively, she moves to the front of the bus. The bus stops at a junction, on the highway. She alights, and walks unhurriedly. Nobody’s noticed her, except for me and the driver of course.
The road is empty; night has fallen. Lampposts light her way, black pools at the bottom reflect their unnatural light. The road is lit as far as my eye can see.
She walks on, to places that I cannot see and perhaps don’t even know of. The bus starts, and we pass by the junction; the journey continues. The rain has stopped now, the world is silent. The other passengers, two of them, are asleep. I look out of the window and think of her again.
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