It was Monday and although the morning carnival was drawing down to its afternoon self,
New York Penn Station was at its usual brutish behavior.
4:00 pm local was running late and it seemed like the whole world was about to get on it. This time slot had a unique vibe at the station. People leaving the city were almost giddy, mostly because most of them were able to get out of work early and were marveling the ease of getting on a train without being pushed on a train by people behind them
Million stories were getting written, million experiences were getting etched on ,and among these, there was a subtle but powerful love that was about to bloom in Sheetal and a very distant John.
A torn handbag that was what did it. Or was it the conspicuous way of the train station coming alive to connect two lonely souls. Whatever the reason was, the contents of her bag were on the concrete floor.
Destiny spins many ways.
If you ask John today he will still tell you that it was her red face of embarrassment that drew him to help her. A women’s handbag is her bundle of secrets, and at that moment Sheetal’s were out in world to be judged by thousand eyes. He couldn’t resist himself and joined in almost involuntarily to help pick up parts of her bag. Little did he knew he would be helping her collect and sort parts of her life too.
Sheetal’s secret was out, the .22 caliber gun was on the floor next to the bloody scarf. John had seen his fair share of guns and blood during his tours of Afghanistan, and his reaction was more of someone who was startled then scared. He helped her put her gun back in the bag and, just to make sure she can see his eyes, he got up with the scarf and handed it standing up.
It was the kindness of his eyes and his helping hand that broke the dam of tears she was holding, since last night
John , showing genuine concern grabbed her, and sat her on the grimy bench he was sitting on. Her white jeans will surely need a trip to the laundry. She didn’t care, she was just happy to be held.
Their loneliness and their need to talk to someone must have been overpowering, because they sat there on that grimy bench and talked for endless hours, missing train after train .
All the rush in their steps was gone. It was replaced by wonderment of heart .
Not even once they talked about the gun, the scarf or her tumultuous night. The chemistry was instant, as if the train station has picked them up and put them together as a parting gift before they left the city.
Strangers walking by their side could hear bits and pieces of their conversation, which was always about somewhere else in the world, it’s like they both wanted nothing to do with this city.
It took John few hours to ask the question he wanted to ask, “Can I have your number?”. The answer surprised him. “Can I have yours?”, she said.
With trembling hands, she took his number, she was letting somebody in her cocoon for the first time in 10 years.
John wanted some way to connect to her, but he believed it was a man’s responsibility to earn women’s trust, and he intended to do exactly that, especially for Sheetal.
She got up and started looking for her ticket. It wasn’t there. Only the station knew that it flew away and was all the way to Trenton in the train that she was about to board 3 hours ago. John sensing the opportunity got up and started walking with her. First time realizing she was so tall. And she had an athletes body. In John, s experience Indian woman rarely were this tall and this athletically built. He was intrigued more about her back story.
As Sheetal was walking next to him, her thoughts finally returned to the reality that was her life.
Should she get rid of the gun or should she get rid of the scarf. Separately they don’t mean anything but together they can unravel the world. She had the burden of the world on her shoulders but somehow John was making all of it seem irrelevant for now.
Little did she knew he will become her world, and his shoulders will carry everything on it.
This moment right there, was why train stations are romantic. People are lonely in the crowd and it takes one bump, one tug and one helpful gesture to find togetherness. Train stations are hubs of modern civilization, and these hubs may be harsh and rough but they carry a heart that can cultivate harmony from chaos.
. Back story of Sheetal
One thing she remembers about her childhood is the bunk bed in the room with 20 kids
She doesn’t know how she got there or who dropped her there but she remembers the bunk bed. The buck bed that was just a bed but it was a sanctuary for her her own little world that glittered with stars on top and littered with stuffed toys. till date she sleeps like she is surrounded by stuff toys. She was smarter than most kids, she knew that before the people around her realized that. She was shy for the first 2 yrs. not as talkative as the other kids so she just mumbled the responses to the questions asked in the school or at the orphanage, she knew she was right most of the time, but it took Savitri to help Sheetal find her voice. And boy she did she find her voice. Savitri was the lady in charge for the dorm and she found a notebook on the floor of Sheetal bed. It was filled with the whole syllabus for the year and session was only one month old. First she thought it was from previous year and as she kept reading it ,it dawned in her that Sheetal was done with the year in a month. Is she a savant genius? Just to make sure she was not getting duped she called all teachers and had a little conference. They wrote a little test for sheetal and gave it to her in the class. While other kids were giving a test for one chapter she was handed a test for the whole book. She aced it . Since she was not much of a talker, they were all worried if we tell everyone she might retreat into shell, but then they decided to spread it through word of mouth and slowly kids started coming to ask Sheetal for her help. In turn she became famous and now every one is talking to her and somewhere in that process she found out that not only did she had a voice but people wanted to hear what she had to say.
In a way that settled the direction for her life. Debate clubs’ trophies, Impressing the teachers, International mock UNs, all these were easy for her and after a while she had to be upgraded to higher levels so she can feel a sense of competition.
Around that time, she learnt her first major life lesson, which till date is one of the reason why she lives a life of anonymity even though she is highly successful.
Her first mean girls experience, where she was beaten up by the other girls of orphanage was in 7th grade. She was getting a lot of attention from the boys. She was athletic tall and damn near witty as a comedian and she could own a room with her personality. Boys were in love. Girls were not .
Orphanage environment although was quiet loving and caring, but kids used to tend to create their own little families with their friends, boyfriends and so on. Everyone was a fierce protector of their immediate group of friends, that they considered family, and loosing on boys who were getting mesmerized by this 7th grader was not going well with the girls.
They cornered her in the bathroom and she was beaten up. She didn’t know why because even the girls were embarrassed to admit why they did it.
Although the beating had an reverse effect on the whole situation, she became even more popular and since she never revealed to the teachers who did it, she was admired for her grit.
When it happened the second time she wasn’t having it .She used her strong legs to kick everyone of them to damn near pulp ,but strangely when they were done resisting she lifted each one of them and dropped them to the nurse station. Telling the nurse that they were fighting each other. While she was dropping the last one off she did her first ever interrogation.
She found out about the hate, the jealousy, the rage they felt because of her extravagance. At least that’s the way she understood it.
She realized that day as long as you are not on top, no one is trying to pull you down.
And she realized one more thing “being second best gives you the anonymity to live a life free of responsibility, and free of competitiveness, and still achieve everything in life.
In every selection in the world there is room for at least three people.
And she kind of promised her to be the second and never the first.
From there on she performed well in class but in every test, she put an extra effort to find out who her competition was and how not to come first, and just did enough to come second.
She took everything in stride just to avoid a confrontation with her peers.
One thing she was not, was a brown nose. She never gave in the pretension of a fight, she always showed disappointment on being the second, knowing very well she missed the questions intentionally. Only Savitri knew what was going on and she confided in one more teacher, he was the gym teacher, a highly energetic extremely athletic Rudra.
Savitri and Rudra were just not colleagues they were in love with each other and were planning to marry. But they were also aware of the fact that Savitri was past the age where she could give that marriage a baby. So in the midst of all the discussions they decided they will adopt from the orphanage. And since Savitri was the one who has been taking care of Sheetal since she was bought in, she was the obvious choice. But the rules of Orphanage didn’t allowed them to adopt and work there.
So they made a life choice adopted Sheetal and quit their jobs. They moved out of Kolhapur and joined in the crowd of Delhi.Sheetal was in awe of the city.
Rudra was an excellent athlete and great coach of cricket ,it didn’t took him long enough to found a niche ,where he was taking 2-3 coaching classes in few of the upcoming schools and start his own academy ,Delhi in those days lacked an sports culture and he took advantage of lack of coaches and established himself. Savitri started her own day care facility at home ,it was good money earner because her English was excellent and moms around her impressed and readily gave her some money to teach the kids spoken English.
