For a very brief moment when I bit into my pound cake, the vanilla sponge melting into my mouth; I observed the entire train compartment fall silent.
We halt to a stop at Daund Junction, Maharashtra.
I can observe my breath as I breathe in and breath out. Being seated at my upper berth, I observe all the people, at least 50 of them in my compartment... I've seen most of them make their way to the exit or the washroom that lies close to the exit door from my side.
And everyone on the train going about their lives. None talks. Silent. Dead silent.
And I, from my seat no 46 see everything; hear nothing.
And then a thought, how many stories do we carry within each other when we want to scream out loud but shun the voices inside?!
There are at least 50 stories at this moment, 1 in each and every one of us.
What's your story?
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