JOURNEY TO THE UNKNOWN

A short story

Pujarjita Sarkar

By Pexels

I sat quietly at the station, observing the bustling platform around me. There was an undeniable charm to that day; the people, the market stalls, children playing joyfully on their own, individuals engrossed in newspapers, others engaged in phone conversations or stretching their necks in anticipation of the train's arrival. While these scenes were common, they felt significant, as if I were a spectator to the beauty of everyday life. Yet, it was not merely mundane; everything seemed to revolve around my husband, my daughter, and me, the true protagonists of this moment.  

Suddenly, I was playfully interrupted by my husband and daughter, who were teasing me and laughing at my exaggerated frown. It was a magical sight to witness their happiness, their carefree enjoyment of the moment. I reached out to my husband, grasping his hand firmly, interlocking our fingers, while I watched our four-year-old ray of sunshine, as she played with her small toy. 

"Are you feeling cold, love?" my husband inquired, his voice tender and soothing. It was the first of January, New Year's Day, and indeed, the chill was palpable. "I've never felt so warm in my life, love. Thank you for this warmth, for our family, for everything," I replied, resting my head gently on his shoulder.  

"You both are my world, my everything. There’s no need to thank me, love. It’s you who fills our little family with so much love; it all feels like a dream— you, our precious daughter, everything," he responded, wrapping his large, warm hands around my shoulders. Our daughter had drifted off to sleep on his lap, her head nestled against my husband's chest. He held us close, cuddling us tightly, as if to shield us from the world. "This is a bond that transcends many lifetimes," he murmured into my ears, planting a soft kiss on my forehead, then gently kissing our sleeping daughter's little cheeks. 

The once comforting hum of the crowd suddenly erupted into a cacophony of screams, shattering the peace. People began to scatter in every direction, driven by an instinct to flee from an unseen threat. Our daughter, roused from her slumber by the chaos, clung to her father's chest, trembling.  

In a swift motion, my husband enveloped her in one arm, shielding her as he took my hand with the other. Just as we rose from the bench, ready to find safety, a man stepped into our path, brandishing a long gun aimed straight at my husband. Time seemed to freeze. The noise faded into silence. I shut my eyes, the world around me dimming. I could no longer feel the gentle touch of my husband’s hand or hear our daughter’s sweet voice calling out, “Mumma! Mumma!”  

When I opened my eyes, the station was deserted, void of any life. Panic surged through me as I called out for my family, my heart racing. Then, I felt a small hand grasp my finger tightly—it was my little angel. Moments later, my husband appeared, taking my other hand, a warm and reassuring smile lighting up his face. “Mumma, it’s time to go! The train is here!” my daughter exclaimed, her excitement infectious.  

“Do you remember what I told you, love? This bond lasts through many lifetimes. We’re just moving on to the next one,” my husband said gently.  

“But I wanted more time in this life, more moments in our cozy home, more days watching our angel grow,” I replied, my voice thick with emotion. He pulled us close, wrapping his arms around us tightly. “We’ll miss our train, my love. Trust me, our next destination holds all the answers you seek. Let’s go.”  

With that, we made our way to the train, which stood patiently waiting for us alone. My daughter bubbled with laughter and joy as she hopped aboard with her father, ready for the adventure that lay ahead. 

I paused at the gate, taking a final glance behind me. There we were—me, my husband and daughter, nestled together on the platform floor, sleeping soundly, faces serene and content. We looked so close, just like we do at home in our cozy bed. A soft sigh escaped my lips as I climbed aboard the train, settling down next to my family. As the train began to glide away, I felt a mix of emotions, heading towards an unknown destination. 

Remembering all such happy and innocent families that were shattered in the 26/11 attacks in Mumbai.