This story is in the continuation of previous stroy 1. The Girl Who Talked Too Much.
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2. The Girl Who Laughed Too Much
The train stopped at Bandra terminal. I entered the B1 compartment and looked for seat number forty two.
There was a group of woo girls on the left berth and a group of hehe boys on the right berth. They looked at me as I was delivering their pizza, that they order thirty minutes ago, so according to company policy its free now. I put my bag down the right berth asked one hehe boy who had curly hair and yellow teeth to move aside, in no time he slipped right away and due to friction his bum made a funny sound. The woo girls looked at each other and laughed like background laughter in old sitcoms.
One of those girls had that shiny twinkling earrings that Ms verbose had wearing. I took out the piece of paper on which she had given me her number and tried to remember when she had slipped this paper in my pocket. I precisely analyze her hand writing, a little full stop at the right corner of the paper followed by an S which is a little pressurized by the pen ink, may be its her dilemma to not to share her number with a stranger.
I remembered her face when she said her name, it was pretty. She was like a dream now which is hard to pursue but easy to forgot. I took out my phone and saved her number in it. Then I tried to search her on Whats App, and there it was, Last seen two days ago, I clicked on her profile picture, it was group picture and she was sitting in the center of it, must be a get-together or family function. She was wearing an ethnic skin coloured salwar kameez, sleeveless it was. Her milky wrist was surrounded by golden watch on which blue stoned were embedded. In the background there was a fountain which is ejecting colorful water. This photo is taken at night but due to heavy lighting and pretty contrast it was not easy to differentiate. At the left hand side there was some guys, must be cousins of her, all wearing kurta payjamas, and shabby beard that asked for regular twice a day of combing and oiling. I pinched zoom at her face, she was wearing a light concealer, and that same earing. I saved this picture into my gallery for some more future observations to make.
“Hey would you like some chips?” A girl who was just sitting opposite to me asked.
The left berth was full of nubile, twenty – twenty two, who were perhaps out for some picnic or to fool around by breaking, daddy’s little princess, Fixed deposit. God knows. The size of their belly button was slightly smaller than their nostrils. They were all looked same to me except the one who offered me the chips just now. She looked gentle, covered belly buttoned, and eyes that says friendship is just an acceptance away. I took out two pieces of unsaturated fried chips, and that was like thirty percent of whole packet, and of course fifty percent was air.
“Thank you” I said gently
“You Going to Delhi?” she asked
I took a bite of crispy American cream and garlic product, and nodded.
“Ye…yes and You?” I asked.
“We are out to excavate The colourful state of India” She said with a little excitement in her voice.
“Colourful state?” I asked.
“Yes, Rajasthan” She said.
“Oh but it’s excavated Years ago” I said and she laughed quite loud. Very loud. Louder. Ultrasonic. Smiling Buddha. The little boy, Nagasaki, Bhopal gas tragedy, Donald Trump IT-cell manipulate US citizen over social media. Rafael Nadal glorious short. Rafael Dalal’s aka Gujarat ka lala 56inch chest shrunken.
Everyone looked at us, like people looked at Hash MeToo Tweets. I was little embarrassed, she finally stopped. The young couple on the side lower berth pulled their curtain in order to have their first train cuddles.
“Are you all right?” I asked her, the moment her weary Ultrasonic laughter came to its wane.
“Yeah..yeah.. I am sorry” she said putting her chips packet aside and taking out her handkerchief to wipe up the droplets of her aqueous humor. The moment she wiped her eyes her mascara smudged, and she looked a little bit like Hanna Baker, I suddenly felt the need to tell her about it, but I stopped.
“Hey Priya, look at Sneha.” said one of the hehe boys in an announcing tone, everyone looked at her and laughed.
“Sneha?” I said,
“Yeah that’s me” she said, “and shut up, you guys are so mean, I am not gonna talk to you all.” She stood up and walked through the narrow passage of eighty seater, made in India, LSB coach. I sat there wondering what does the name “Sneha” means.
“She’s always like that” said one of the nubile to me as if I had needed a justification for her storming out. I smirked at her, and nodded in approval to her pro justification.
“Don’t worry bro she’ll be back” one of the hehe boy who was sitting on the window seat said and the other one patted my back.
“I don’t care, you arseholes” I said in my mind.
The train passed though the barrens of South Rajasthan, outside one could see a little greenery with flock of live stocks headed by a man and his four year old daughter. She walked beside the sheeps, pattering her one hand on the warm skin, and waving the other hand to the train unaware of her future in the widely populated mass of literates, and her competitors who with tomato like cheeks, returns in air-conditioned buses form there school that taught them ‘ How to Skin sheeps for our Profit’.
Sneha returned to her seat, her face was washed and the mascara was re-done. She looked at everyone, everyone looked at her they again started to laugh, this time even I couldn’t stopped myself to join them. Life takes you through tough lesson, but it also gives you an ample amount of time to think and re-think about that particular lesson and learn something from it, that’s how an experience is made and it’s an everyday phenomena, a never-ending battle. I looked out again and saw the dusty mountains on which trees were mushroomed, the leaf of those trees were pale and the barks were dead outside. Birds were popping into these trees as it was late afternoon, I yawned and closed my eyes for a bit and slept in sitting posture. When I opened my eyes, I saw an old lady, was lying on the left berth and an old man was sitting beside me. The group of young excavators were gone. When I shift aside I heard a cracking sound of some packet, when I looked back I saw the green colored packet of chips that seems to be intentionally folded and dropped behind me. I opened it, and it had a little note inside that said – “We are de-boarding at Aburoad station and you are sleeping like a little baby so, we don’t wanna disturb you, but it was nice meeting you.”
I folded that paper and kept it in my pocket, where already one paper was lying. The train took a Halt at some station, “Which station is this?” I asked the tea vendor, “Kishangarh” he said in his high pitched voice.