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g{x UÜÉ~xÇ cÜÉÅ|áx a|Ätç f|Çz{ 9 a|á{t ctÇwçt About the Author Hi, my name is Nilay Singh. I am an MBA (Operations) and Graduate in IT from SK Somaiya College, Mumbai. I have worked for many companies, but at the end realized the fact that I cannot slog my ass from morning 10:00 am to evening 12:00 pm. You know what I mean. The companies promise you, they have shifts of 8 to 9 hrs, but then practically its goes more than 12. Finally, after slogging my ass from morning to evening, I decided to quit and started writing. I wasn’t a writer, but then people said you are good at sharing feeling; you should write, so I started with this one and made an attempt. I hope you will like this one. Note: The people, events and places mentioned in this story are real. Please do not try to investigate anything related to the story. It might confuse you. All names in the story are changed. If any resemblance exists, please consider the character as you. Acknowledgement I would like to thank Mr. Arham Shaikh for his support and lending me his laptop throughout the story without his generous attempt, I wouldn’t have been able to even start the story. I would like to thank him for listening to all my crap stories and theories at nights sitting on the roads along with the beggars who wanted to sleep, but then unable to do so until 1:00 am. I would like to thank him for his explanations and guidance regarding the do’s and don’t’s of Konkan region. Without him, I wouldn’t have been able to write this story. I would like to thank Ms. Asma Sardar, who has indirectly supported me by reading my story first hand and giving her valuable feedback to her boyfriend “Arham”, who in turn gave me her feedback when I needed, particularly from a girl. I would like to thank Ms. .Nisha Pandya, the co-author of this book. She stood by me all the time, supported me when I needed her. She is the best person I could have in my life. She is not with me right now, but for her I will always be there, ‘just a call away’. I miss you sweetheart wherever you are and will always do. I would also like to thank Paresh Jain, Dr. Jeetendra Gupta, Leena Sarmarkar, & Chitra Mukherjee for reading my story and sharing their valuable feedback with me. Their feedback have inspired me to write more and resulted in pushing me to start my next story, my second story. I thank you all for pushing me for that. I would also like to thank my parents who have tried to stop me many times from writing this story. They never wanted me to be a writer, but then when the arrow has left the bow, no one can stop it from hitting the target. I am thankful to Mr. Brijesh, Mr. Abraham Bellery and the team of NT for supporting me and helping me making my dreams come true. If both the above-mentioned people wouldn’t have supported me, I wouldn’t be able to complete this story. I am thankful all those who have directly or indirectly contributed to the story and made this story possible. I am sorry if I have missed your name, but then please adjust. I hope you understand. In the memory of my loving Naani ‘Atarkaur Devi’ & Maami ‘Shakuntala Devi’. You both are there with us, always… Journey ‘No Nilay, it is not possible…!’ ‘At least in this life it is not possible, it’s impossible Nilay’, ‘It’s impossible…!’ Boom@*#$% ‘What the fuck…!’ ‘Why can’t Indian railway consider people like us before manufacturing these bogies’, rubbing my head I cursed Indian railway for manufacturing bogies with so less space between the two berths. I somehow managed to get out of the middle berth after struggling with the seat and myself for some time. It has been years that I have attended any wedding functions; I don’t like to be a part of the stupid drama - full of clowns and women who don’t get tired of bitching about others. The part, which I hate the most, is when people have their food and photographer clicks your picture having a big spoonful food approaching your open mouth. It is so embarrassing, and uncomfortable to have food in front of so many people who are looking at you and the quantity on your plate. Sometimes, people also start judging about how much the person had contributed to the cost of the wedding. Well never mind, it was difficult to say no to this one as this was my best friend’s wedding, who knew that I am good at giving reasons to avoid weddings. I had to attend this one. I was one of the special guests at the wedding. He had appointed people to take good care of me. The venue for the wedding is Ratnagiri and I think I will be the last person to reach the wedding, I guess. I got down at Ratnagiri station, platform number 1. I placed the airbag on the nearby steel bench, and tried to stretch myself. It is 4.00 am in the morning and my body is not 100 % responding due to lack of sleep and previous day’s hectic schedule at my office. My day ended at 9.30 pm at night, that too after lot of argument with my asshole boss. I managed to convince him to use office vehicle for dropping me up to railway station. I went to office early that morning so that I can leave early and have some time to pack up few things before leaving. At the same time, I was in no mood to take chances, so I took some of my luggage along with me to office to avoid last minute rush. As expected, boss gave me so much of work that I wasn’t able to leave early and left for station directly from my office. After struggling and fighting with the traffic and the bad road conditions of Mumbai, I was standing outside Thane Railway Station sharp at 11.00 pm It was 11.15 pm I boarded Konkan kanya express. Tired working on stupid presentations and a tedious hectic day, I was in no mood to check for my neighbors especially girls in my compartment. I started checking the berth numbers on the steel plates above the berth. Finally, after waking up some people in my coach, I managed to find my berth. I pushed my bag to the corner of the berth, after pulling out the quilt to cover myself from the cold winds that has already started coming in from the open window. I placed the bag under my head and used it as a pillow. I lay down on the berth, trying to remember and analyze how fast the entire day went, what decisions I made, where they correct. Slowly, my thoughts moved from reality to imagination and finally I was in the embrace of the night and felt asleep. I felt a jerk of the train, which broke my dream, landed up hitting my head on the upper berth. I checked the time. It is 2.30 am. I pulled myself out of the berth and went near the door. I wanted to see where we have reached. I tried to open the cranky iron door. It was jammed. The handle of the door was cold, due to chill air hitting it from outside, I guessed. I applied some more strength and managed to open it. The train was on halt at some station; the platform was dark with no lights on it. I got down on the platform and turned towards the engine to see. I saw some lights under the shed some 100 yards ahead. The signal stood right ahead the engine with red light. I searched for the boards on the platform to see the name of the station, but failed to find one. It was complete dark. The only source of light was inside the coach. I could only see some trees and bushes few meters away. I waited on the platform to take some fresh air. I wanted to detoxify my lungs from the toxic farts that my neighbors have compelled me to inhale. Ten minutes passed, I am enjoying the fresh cold air, at the same time cursing the digestive systems of my neighbors. Suddenly I heard the sound of a blowing horn. I thought it was of my train, so I climbed up in the coach and stood at the door. The intensity of the sound was increasing as if it is approaching towards me. As soon as I realized about the approaching horn sound, another train passed us in the opposite direction on the adjacent track rapidly making a thundering sound, awakening other passengers who almost cursed the other train driver for breaking their sweet dreams. I enjoyed the scene. The train passed and few minutes later, my train moved too. I still stood at the door to see which station I have reached. I was waiting to approach the shed. I was sure the shed must have the name of the station written somewhere. The train was moving slowly, my coach reached the shed; I concentrated my eyes and adjusted my glasses to have a better view.