She keeps staring at me, I can see it from the corner of my eye. Uncomfortable. I finally make eye contact. She smiles. “Are you from Kenya?”, she asks, looking at my wristband, that represents the Kenyan flag. I smiled. My hour’s journey just got interesting.
She is wearing a hijab. Exhaustion clear on her face. Her eyes battling to stay open. He gets on and sits on the empty seat next to her. He’s cute. Unknowingly, her eyes shut and she rests her head on his shoulder. He sits still, just as time does. Her eyes flicker, after a few minutes, realising what she is doing. She blushes; he smiles. He walks to the door, taking a quick glance at her before stepping off. The shortest love story I ever witnessed.
He’s full of life. After all, he’s still a child, immune to all the ‘real life problems’. I watch him, running up and down the carriage, shouting along to the automated announcements at every stop. I look around, after a while; nobody has their eyes glued on their phones anymore. We all watch him, in awe. How can such a tiny human remember so much? After every announcement, the audience claps. I can tell, he feels proud. He looks like he’s achieved the most important thing in the world. But then again, he brought a smile on several faces; it’s the same thing.
Here, I have seen life laugh; I have seen life cry.
Here, I have seen humans fight; I have seen humans bond.
It’s amazing how much we learn when we set everything aside and just watch the world exist.
Mind the gap, between the train and the platform. Another day, another journey.
I wonder what today’s train ride has in store for me?