40 minutes

Her head was spinning and she felt her world suddenly tilt. She tried moving to one side to let in some fresh air. However, there was no space. She felt trapped. She could feel something poking her in the back. She once again tried to move herself, but she seemed to have no energy. 'Where am I?', was her last coherent thought before her felt her eyelids droop...

It was awhile before she regained consciousness. The crowd hadn't moved yet she had a feeling of having moved ahead. She could sense movement. As if someone had bodily lifted her and was walking or running. She tried looking down. But her feet were firmly placed on the floor. There was no one holding her or carrying her. The feeling persisted. Where am I, she once again wondered, trying to crane her head over the crowd for a glimpse of the surroundings. However, there was nothing she could see as her nose was level with the oiled, shiny head of the person standing before her, blocking air-flow.

She could not remember anything. Perspiration was slowly breaking out on her forehead. And just then, in a flash, it came to her. She remembered she was now in Mumbai. The city of dreams. But it now seemed like the city of nightmares. She had shifted here just two days back. Thinking about the shift, reminded her of the date. Today was supposed to be the first day of work! Perhaps she shouldn't have left home without breakfast, in such a rush... She remembered standing on the platform waiting for a train to CST. The indicator had said 4 minutes. An unexpected wave of nausea hit her then though she remembered seeing the train snake towards the platform. After that, her memory was a blank.

How had she entered this mass of humans, cramped together, almost crushing her, she didn't know. She tried racking her brains wondering whether she had entered the train and had gotten off somewhere or did some abduct her and leave her in the middle of nowhere? Nothing was making sense to her. The person in front of her suddenly moved giving her a chance to gulp in some air before being crushed again.

She felt a sudden push and lurched ahead. As people around her moved, or just tried balancing themselves, she quickly escaped into what looked like an alley. It was a small, tiny space with room for barely one person. The place was however crowded with even up to 3 people in some places. She suddenly spotted some benches lining the alley. Each small bench with 3-4 people cramped on it. Her eyes fell on 2 children fighting for what looked like a soggy biscuit on one of the benches. They seemed oblivious to the crowd, lost in their own world. The mother, she guessed it was the mother, had shut her eyes as her head dropped on her lap. She was amazed at how someone could even think of sleeping in such a situation!

It was hopeless, she realised. Her head was already swimming and she felt like throwing up. The crazy October heat did nothing to help her. The sunlight streaming in the small space just added to her discomfort. She tried reaching into her bag for the bottle of water only to be met with empty space.

Panic gripped her. She swiftly turned around to locate her bag. And instantly regretted the sudden move as she felt another wave of nausea hit her along with a jarring jab from the bangles of the woman standing somewhere around her. One hand on her forehead, she tried wiping the sweat off her

skin with the edge of her Saree. But the other hand was stuck, well and true.

She could not understand anything. There were people who were laughing and chatting. The sound felt alien to her. She wanted to scream! How could anyone joke around in such a situation? Couldn't they see she was lost?! She could sense some people looking at her oddly. Few were even commenting, though she wondered if they were whispers directed towards her or general conversation. Finally, mustering up some courage, she asked the woman on the bench closest to her, “Excuse me, is this Mumbai?” The woman just looked at her oddly as if she was mad and shifted slightly away on the bench. She decided to repeat the question thinking the lady perhaps did not understand English. “Excuse me, ye Mumbai hai?”

The woman on the bench now looked at her shocked. She could feel sniggers around her. Her heart was in her throat, waiting for the answer. The woman on the bench curtly replied “Nahi. America hai. Subah subah main hi mili thi kya? Dimaag kharab mat kar.”

The sniggers grew louder as she tried making sense of those words. She wondered what such a crowd was doing in such a narrow alley. No one seemed to be headed anywhere. What city was this? What ---

Suddenly, a fat man seated near the end of the passage decided to move out. In his hurry to walk off, he accidentally brushed against her. She felt something tug her shoulder and was relieved to find her bag hanging there. While the bag was still stuck in the human mass, the strap was firmly on her shoulder. She tried tugging it with weak hands. Luckily, a helpful person noticed her efforts, helping her tug it out.

Why was everyone sniggering at her? Couldn't someone help her. Everytime she wanted to ask someone a question, they turned away. Did she look funny? Was there some mark on her face? She took in a deep breath trying to calm her frayed nerves. Finding her bag soothed her a bit. The purse had everything in it. Her wallet, her identity proofs, some memories... Finding them surely calmed her but another lurch and she felt herself thrown ahead.

She pulled someone's arm in a bid to steady herself. However, the sudden movement threw her completely off balance and she unceremoniously landed on the bag of a seated person. She yelped in pain as she felt the edge of the bench hit her on her thigh. She looked around, expecting a hand to help her up. Instead of compassion, she was met with cold, hard stares. People stared at her as she slowly got up, hobbling on one foot. The space she stood before had already been usurped. She was pushed to one corner with barely space to place one foot.

She continued battling her nausea while trying to get an idea of her surroundings. She tried asking a few people around again, but her voice failed her. She finally got a chance to pull out her bottle of water, and felt better after a few sips.

Suddenly she spotted a vendor pushing his way through the crowd. The smell of guavas wafted towards her. She tried beckoning the man, hoping the guava would make her feel better. Just one bite and her assumptions proved wrong. This time she felt bile in her throat and did her best to calm herself. If asking questions earned such a response, she did not know what vomiting might lead her to.

She glanced at her watch and realised it was nearly 40 minutes that she seemed to have entered the hell hole. She was desperate to get out. She wonder how much longer she would have to endure the suffering.

Her legs felt weak and she wondered how much longer she could hold on. The vertigo was making the world go round. She clutched her bag, her one solace to sanity tightly to her chest and tried taking a deep breath. But her chest felt constricted by an iron hand. It was getting difficult to breathe and she once again felt her lids closing...

Just as she gave in, crumpling to the floor, she heard the voice. "Please pay attention. This train will go to the yard."

She finally felt herself relax as the station rolled in and the train emptied. There was no glance, no pity directed towards the woman lying on the now empty bench...

Baarish, Coffee aur Kahaani

And suddenly, it began to pour. Torrential rains accompanied by gusts of wind that blew stray leaves and litter away. Pedestrians suddenly caught in the downpour hurried to seek shelter under dusty, dripping window awnings. Those with umbrellas huddled together. A streak of lightening quickly followed by rolls of thunder elicited gasps. Some of pleasure, some of frustration. After all, it isn't supposed to rain in October. Is it?

He hurried towards the mall, the closest building in sight. Not that it would help now, as he was already soaked to the bone. However, instead of hurrying home, he felt the sudden need to seek some respite from the drops pelting his skin. And not like there was anyone waiting home for him, he thought with a wry smile. His roommate was out with friends and would return late. He had time to kill. Plus the next day was a holiday; he realized hurrying towards the entrance with resolute footsteps.

He almost dashed into a cab in his hurry to get away from the rain. He didn't know why the sudden urge to get away. He usually loved the rains. And enjoyed getting drenched. 'Perhaps I’m conscious because I’m wearing a white shirt'; he chuckled at his own lame joke. Passing through the security check, he decided to quickly grab a coffee. Luckily for him, a new coffee shop had opened on the ground floor of the mall, right opposite the entrance. He quickly made his way over, only to discover the shop was full. Well almost. There was just one empty chair.

And that is when his eyes fell on her. She was seated at the table with the one empty chair, lost in her cell phone. She was dusky. Her skin was as beautiful as the coffee she was sipping. The straw was caught between her teeth, as she slightly bit an edge. Her lips were perfectly done in some glittery goo women everywhere seemed to adore. And that was the instant he fell in love with it too. Her eyes, lowered to the phone, gave him a view of her lids which were achingly dark and bare. He wondered what her eyes, when on him would look like. What colour would they be? However, he quickly abandoned that chain of thought. 'Black or at the most brown. You don’t generally find green eyed dusky beauties in this part of the world. Unless, they use lenses of course.' He seemed to be doing a lot of talking to himself that evening.

He slowly cleared his throat to draw her attention. Her attention directed towards the phone snapped and she looked up, one perfectly arched eyebrow raised. He could see the confusion in her eyes while trying to place him. “Could I… Ummm… Could I grab the chair?” He quickly cleared his throat once again, wondering why his voice came out like a squeak. “Sorry, could I grab the chair?”

“Oh. Sure! Please.”

She went back to her cell phone.

He quickly pulled back the chair, showering droplets of water from his hair to the table. As he sat there waiting for the downpour to halt, he couldn't stop staring at her. She was nearly perfect, he mused. Her chocolate skin did not have any blemish except for a tiny mole on her neck. She was thoroughly engrossed in the phone, he noted. Whoever it was, was sure a lucky person! Surprisingly, he did not feel any jealousy or envy. Just amusement. Amusement that outside the world was in a frenzy and here, for her, time seemed to have stilled. He traced her every movement with his eyes, almost afraid she might look up and catch him staring. But she seemed oblivious to her surroundings and continued tapping away on her phone.  

He looked on as she suddenly smiled, obviously at the latest text or message on her screen. It wasn't an earth-shattering smile. He did not feel the urge to move mountains and part the oceans just to see her smile, he admitted to himself. It was a very, very regular smile. No dimples, no cuteness, no lighting up of the face or any of that shit novels seemed to keep advertising. He however liked the way there appeared a slight indent on the left side of her chin every time she smiled. That little detail captivated him. Just like how, when she frowned, she seemed to gnash her teeth ticking a vein in her lower jaw. He studied her. Almost like an archaeologist reveres a mummy. He absorbed her every move. Every expression. Suddenly, she grinned. He looked on transfixed, as one side of her mouth quirked up and slowly spread to a smile. He was now truly mesmerized.

“Excuse me sir?”

He almost swatted the person away as one might an irritant fly. Luckily, he quickly checked himself and turned his gaze towards the server, patiently waiting with a menu card in hand. “Yeah?” He managed an incomprehensible grunt.

“Would you like anything sir?”

“A vanilla latte. Thanks.”

He resumed his observations as the server walked off. He found it amazing that she hadn’t looked up once and caught him staring. Or perhaps she had, and just chose to ignore it. Women are weird creatures…

Her hair, he admitted, was not the best he had seen. It was pulled back in a messy bun and looked uncombed. However, for reasons he could not fathom, even that little aspect captivated him. He continued to look as she stubbornly pushed a rough, stray strand behind her ear where it refused to stay and promptly bounced back. She frowned as she absentmindedly tried putting it back in place, where the strand, equally stubborn refused to stay. The little game of smile and frown quite amused him and he wondered if she would give the lop-sided grin again. As if on cue, her lips curled up and she almost giggled.

The server arrived with his latte. It was just like her. Creamy, smelling of vanilla and heavenly. The warm coffee gliding down his throat felt good after the cold shower. Suddenly he noted, her ears were bare. There was nothing dangling from any hole or piercing. He couldn't even spot a piercing.

He took a gulp of the coffee and for the first time, moved his eyes away from her face, down her throat. She was dressed in an over-sized black tee, with words printed on. He couldn't read the one-liner on it though. Her arms were bare and glowed like the rest of her skin. 'Wonder if she's an angel', he once again mused. His eyes traced down her bright orange shorts and purple sneakers, and began a slow, upward journey again.

Suddenly, his attention was captured by the waiter waving out to him. He signaled for the cheque and was amazed at the speed with which it was delivered. He quickly pulled out a Rs 500 note and resumed his observations.

She seemed to be having an argument. Her brow was furrowed together, lips caught between her teeth. 'Not a woman worried about wrinkles', he once again chuckled at his lame joke. She bit her lip hard, almost drawing blood, typing furiously on the phone. He wanted to tell her it was alright. Nothing to worry about. He moved his hand slightly, hovering over hers as it rested on the table, holding the cup of coffee. Just then, the server arrived with his change. Out of habit, he began counting the amount returned.

The server had given him the wrong amount, he realized and tried calling out to him. The server however, was busy and did not pay attention. His eyes strayed back to her and she looked like she was about to cry.

He quickly left his seat and hurried to the cash counter. It took some time to get the cashier’s attention and longer for the cashier to find the required correct change. But finally, the problem was solved. He had the right amount. It was when he turned back that he realized the rain had stopped. The café was now almost empty. For the first time that evening he smiled, and headed to his now empty table. She had left as quietly as the rain. He could however, see a drop on the table. Was it from the rain or was it her tears? He would never know. He quickly pulled out his laptop and began to write…