I woke up, rather befuddled, to the sound of tea vendors trying to  sell the last dredges of the day's tea. I checked my watch. It was 10.30 p.m. The compartment was dark. We were probably at Khurda Road Junction.

 I leant over to look out of the window.  That is when I noticed her - through the glass window - seated in her compartment. My heart skipped a beat. I moved closer to the window and peered through the darkness. It was her. 

She was reading something. Her train was relatively empty. Was she just beginning her journey or was it about to end. Bhuvaneshwar ? Was that where  she was residing ? A volley of questions raced through my mind. She looked different - her hair was coiled up at the top of her head and she looked thinner than before. There was a strong desire to reach out to her. How often I had thought of her !    

The sound of a train horn drew her attention and she lifted  her head to look out. I immediately ducked back. A minute later, she returned to her book. I got up and headed to the entrance of the compartment. 

If only I could talk to her!  

She was the first girl I had dated. She was eighteen  and I, twenty one.  I had been a gauche third year student, engrossed in books, with no friends. Not that I did not crave to be a part of the crowd. It was just that I couldn't edge my way into the crowd. They were smart and extroverted, while I was shy and tongue tied in public. 

She was the one to approach me. It was a quiet afternoon in summer. I was seated at a corner table in the coffee shop on campus. 

“May I?” I heard her say. 

I looked up. She stood there, dressed in a pretty pink salwar kameez, her hair gathered in a plait. Her eyes were dark deep pools, and her lips, curved into a gentle smile. 

I fumbled a little before nodding and hurriedly pushed aside the books  strewn on the table. 

She sat down. 

I was horribly uncomfortable. I had never sat so close to a girl. 

She cleared her throat. “I've come to apologise to you - for my brother's behaviour towards you.”

I blinked. 

“Ashish,” she said. “Remember ? He and his friends refused to let you be a part of the Fest. I saw the way they spoke to you. I felt terrible.”

She paused. “My brother tends to be a bully. I do love him though. But I felt I must apologise on his behalf. “

I wasn't sure what to say. 

“It's ok,” I managed to mumble. 

She smiled. “Thank you. Take care.”

She rose and headed towards the door. 

I ran into her a day later. She was in the library, reading a book. I gathered all my courage and went up to her. 

“Hi”, I said nervously.

“Hi,” she said, a warm smile lighting up her face. 

“May I?” I asked.

“Sure,” she laughed. 

“I wanted to thank you,” I said hesitatingly. “It was really sweet of you to apologise for something that wasn't even your fault.” 

She laughed. 

We were silent for a while. 

“Uhmm, could we go over to the coffee shop?” I asked. “I missed lunch and I could do with a sandwich.” 

She hesitated momentarily and then nodded her head. 

That was the beginning of many lunches, walks and long conversations that ran late into the night. 

Till Sweta came into my life. 

Sweta was everything that she wasn't. And I told her that one evening when she asked me, her eyes shimmering in the dark, whether I loved her. 

Sweta was smart, sophisticated and confident. I had met her at my new workplace  and life suddenly catapulted to new heights. Sweta made me feel different - like an achiever. I met new people and I felt just like the guys I would envy back in college. A couple of years later, Sweta and I were married : a year later we were divorced. 

……. 

Her train had begun to pull out of the station. I watched it chug past, hoping to see her once more. I did. She was looking out of the window. She never saw me though. 

I went back to my seat, a deep heaviness within. I had let her down - how could I want her back in my life?  

                                                                                             - Jaya Pillai