Suspense Short Story – Midnight Express
Photo credit: dhester from morguefile.com
The TT woke up in a commotion that could only be described as a riot. A hundred different voices, some shouting, some screaming, one crying, wailing to be precise. The train had apparently stopped at a station. Looking out he saw the board. Buxar station. An unscheduled stop. He looked at his watch. 1:30 in the night. What on earth had happened at this hour?, he wondered.
As he made his way through the layers of people surrounding the crying man he heard them talking to each other.
“Such a pity! The poor guy’s distraught.”
“He looked everywhere, crossed the train twice, but he can’t find her.”
“Someone said a woman got down alone at the last station an hour back”
“No no, it couldn’t have been her. I saw her. She was middle-aged. This guy apparently got married yesterday, his wife was still in her bridal wear.”
“A few coach doors were open when he went to check. Maybe she fell…”
The TT passed the speculating crowd to the crying man who was now talking to a railway police official.
“Find her Sahib, please find her! Where could she have disappeared? We were sleeping two hours back, and now, I don’t know where… I can’t….”, the man broke down while talking.
The TT went up to the RPF guy. “His wife has gone missing. They boarded at Patna and apparently slept off. He woke up at Arrah and realized she wasn’t there. He looked for her but couldn’t find her so he pulled the chain at Buxar. I’ve notified all the stations from Patna to Arrah. The door of his coach was open, so it’s possible that she might have fallen overboard, or gotten pushed. We can’t rule out the possibilities. We’re still searching the tracks. In the meantime can you talk to the passengers, maybe someone saw something.”
The TT nodded, a little confused at how the woman couldn’t be found. Even though it was a gruesome thought he could imagine her falling out of the train. It had happened before.
“Hey Mister!! They found her clothes a kilometre before Bihta station. They were found on the tracks”. The man stopped crying and rushing towards the RPF guy asked him, “Bihta?? Clothes?? What do you mean? Where….”
“Come with me”, said the RPF guy and took him out of the station.
The train resumed its services after the hour long halt and the TT along with the rest of the passengers settled down into their seats. Some glad, some indifferent, some irritated and some just plain curious.
What a tragedy, thought the TT. Newly married couple, starting a new life and what a terrible beginning. He hoped that she was safe, alive.
He settled back into his seat and found himself looking for the young fellow who was seated next to him. The poor fellow had reserved the ticket yesterday and quite obviously couldn’t get a seat so he’d given him a seat to sit on for some time. An interesting talkative chap, maybe he knew something more about this curious incident. Even if he didn’t he’d definitely have a lot to say about it, thought the TT.
The guy had boarded from Patna and was going to Bombay. He’d started the conversation by asking the TT about the famous Abdul Bari Bridge over the river Sone. He was oddly curious about it, asking about the length of the bridge, whether it was really a kilometre in length to which the TT had replied that it was more than a kilometre and was built by the British long back. He told him that it was earlier called the Koilwar Bridge but had been renamed after Professor Abdul Bari.
He told the guy that it would come soon after Bihta station, and that if he remained awake he would be able to see it. The train ran for a full minute over the bridge. He told the guy that people had a habit of throwing coins into the river below, supposedly for good luck and that if he wished for anything he could throw a coin there. The guy had scoffed at the story and said there was no such thing as luck, that it was all in your own hands.
He had seemed the pragmatical type but then quite suddenly he’d gone on to talk about love, how love was the only thing worth living for in this meaningless world, what people do for love and all that .
“Have you ever loved somebody TT sir? ”
The TT had laughed at his question and told him that the world indeed revolved around love but that he never had much love in his life except for one girl in his village when he was in his youth. The TT had found it strange that he’d told a random stranger about his first love but then the guy was a chirpy fellow and had gotten the TT talking.
As the TT lied down to sleep he noticed the man’s bag wasn’t there. Odd, he must’ve found a seat to sleep on, thought the TT. When he started drifting off to sleep a strange thought entered his head. He remembered something that the young man had asked him about the things people do for love,
“For example, TT sir, would you jump off a moving train?”
__END__
