I started up with a jerk. Where was I? Looked like a train. I was sweaty. I sat up. My jean's bottom portion was covered with sand. I looked at my mobile and saw the last dialled number. It was Champi. A gust of pain somewhere within and then memories came rushing in. It was the same depressing feeling I had when I failed first time in school. Whenever you wake up all your pain rushes in. I thanked my friends for dumping me in the train. But I did not want to go. Not now. There was nothing back there. I had to go back. I looked down, the other people turned their eyes away. Probably dismissing me as a unruly drunkard who didn't know when to stop. Slowly edging my way I looked myself in the mirror and lit a cigarrette. My face was flushed. It took a while to gather my self. Almost night now and the pain was not going down. Network I called Champi, she sounded weak. "
"Can I come back"
I put down the phone and leaned out of the train door. No, the pain wasn't going down.
A station came. Looked like a village. I couldn't take the pain of going away any more. I took my bag and jumped off.
Friday was a beautiful day for me. Champu and Champi met after a long wait. Only one of them waited though. Then they had food and then they went to a disc. They drank and made merry, laughed and smiled. Champu looked at Champi and nothing else mattered.Champi was in mood. She gave'chamat' and then'chumma' in rapid succession. Who remembers the 'chamat' champu thought.Champi went to see, danced around and her smile of God showed light to Champu. They went home.
Next day, Champi came late.Champu sat at bar. Beers came dashing down and some whiskey too. Champi went away when they finally met, before Champu could come to senses. Champu stood there staring at her window, tears welled down his eyes. Champi never came down. Champu's friends took him away as tomorrow he had to go back. He drank all night and wondered how would he catch the train.