Sometimes, strangers become your therapist.

A delayed train, a middle-class survival kit, and the beautiful stranger who ruined my schedule in the best way possible.

— -

The Best-Laid Plans of an Aspirant

If you have ever prepared for competitive government exams in India, you know your entire life becomes a series of tightly calculated timelines. Every mock test, every vocabulary quiz, every single day is itemised. My life was no different. I live in a hostel in Haryana, and my entire life right now revolves around one single goal: cracking the SSC CGL exam.

A little while back, my Nana ji passed away. I had to come home to attend his terahvi. While my family was dealing with the loss, I also had a major task pending — getting my OBC certificate sorted.

I had calculated the timeline in my head. I figured I would be completely done with all my paperwork and chores by the 27th of May. Based on that, I booked a night ticket for the 28th to head back to the hostel and resume my prep.

But, well, the Indian Railways and my luck rarely agree.

The ticket never got confirmed, and my plan to leave on the 28th completely flopped. I couldn’t just sit around wasting time. I took another gamble and booked a new ticket for the 29th of May on the Patiyala Express. Honestly, looking at the waiting list, the chances of this one getting confirmed were super low, too.

But kya karein yaar? Half our lives run on hope anyway. I made the booking. Let’s see how this goes.

— -

The Special Kripa of Indian Railways

When I woke up on the morning of the 29th, I casually checked my phone and got the shock of my life. My ticket was actually confirmed! It was completely unexpected, but man, it felt amazing.

But obviously, good things do not just happen to me without a catch. A little later, I figured out exactly why the universe was showering this special kripa on me. The train had started a whole four hours late from its origin station. Classic Indian Railways, right?

Anyway, what could I do? I started giving the final touches to my packing, convincing myself with that standard middle-class logic: no tension yaar, the train will speed up and cover the delay.

Now, the last bus from my town to the Lalitpur railway station leaves at exactly 5 PM. I grabbed my bags and hopped on. And guess who I bumped into on the bus? My old school classmate, Aman. He was also heading to Lalitpur, where he stays in a rented room. It was great to have some familiar company for the ride.

We were just about to reach Lalitpur when I decided to pull out my phone and check the live running status of my train.

Honestly, my jaw dropped. The Patiyala Express, which had an original scheduled time of 8:30 PM, was now showing an estimated arrival of 3:30 AM! My plan to comfortably board the train and sleep had just turned into a massive headache.

From 8:30 PM to 3:30 AM… seriously? Scene kya hai yaar? Now the big question was, what exactly was I supposed to do for seven hours?

— -

The Strategic Retreat

Seeing my helpless face, Aman did what any good Indian friend would do.

“Chal bhai, mere room par chal,” he offered. “You can just stay there and rest until your train arrives.”

“Idea toh achha hai,” I replied, feeling a tiny ray of hope. “But how far is your room from the station?”

We pulled out our phones and checked Google Maps. The glowing blue route showed a solid 12 kilometres. My heart immediately sank. Twelve kilometres might not sound like much during the day, but trying to cover that distance to catch a train at 3:30 in the morning? That is practically a suicide mission. At that ungodly hour, finding a local auto in Lalitpur is like finding logic in a TV serial — almost impossible.

I looked at Aman hopefully. “What about Rapido?”

He immediately shook his head. “Bhai, don’t even trust Rapido at night. Kabhi aate hain, kabhi booking accept karke cancel kar dete hain.”

That settled it. The risk was just way too high. Imagine sitting 12 kilometres away, getting stranded without a ride, and missing the train after waiting all night! Plus, with my luck, what if the train actually covered up its delay and arrived early? I couldn’t take that chance.

So, I made the tough call. I thanked Aman for the offer, but decided that the railway station’s waiting room was my best and safest option. At least there, I would be right on the platform whenever my VIP train finally decided to show up.

— -

The Twinning Stranger

Things were about to get a little filmy.

Just as I was walking into the waiting room, a beautiful girl in her early twenties was walking out. She was slightly on the shorter side, maybe around 5 feet 2 inches, with a round face that looked incredibly cute. She was wearing black formal pants and a loose white top with blue printed flowers. And the funny part? We were practically twinning! I was wearing a plain black lower and a white shirt with a navy blue print. What are the odds, right?

I walked up to the desk to sign the entry register. While writing, my eyes fell on an incomplete entry. The name said Swati, but the rest of the columns were blank. I just filled in my own details and stepped aside.

Right then, the same girl walked back in. She leaned over the register to complete her entry, and I noticed she was using her left hand to write. After signing, she walked away and took a seat quite far from me.

Now, I know I was supposed to be stressed about my massively delayed train, but come on, yaar, she was really beautiful. I could not help but think about her. Suddenly, mere andar ka investigative keeda jaag gaya. I just had this crazy itch to check the register one more time.

Acting all casual, I strolled back to the desk and glanced at the logbook. The previously unfilled entry for Swati was now complete. My eyes scanned her row, and my brain almost stopped working.

Train number: 1057 Patiyala Express. Coach: M2.

At that exact moment, it hit me. That entry belonged to the cute left-handed girl sitting across the room. We were not just waiting for the same delayed train; we were booked in the same coach.

— -

Mission Icebreaker

I sat back down, my mind racing. Her full name in the register was Swati Gautam. ‘Gautam’. That meant she was a Pandit, just like me. And since she was boarding from Lalitpur, she was probably from somewhere nearby. I know it sounds a bit desperate, but honestly, in that moment, my Indian middle-class brain had already done half the background check and matched our kundalis. I was secretly grinning like an idiot.

Okay, I had to talk to her. But what do I even say?

“Hi, I stalked the register and found out we are in the same coach?” Too creepy.

I spent the next fifteen minutes sitting in my chair, mentally rehearsing every possible opening line. I must have practised my dialogue two or three times in my head. Bollywood makes it look so easy, but in real life, my confidence was practically zero.

Then, the universe gave me an opening. She got up to use the washroom.

Yahi hai sahi mauka, I told myself. I stood up, my heart beating a little faster, and waited for her to come out. As she was returning to her seat, I gathered all my courage and gently stopped her.

“Swati, right?” I asked, trying my best to sound cool and casual.

She looked slightly surprised, her big, round eyes blinking at me. “Yes?”

“Look, I am really sorry, I accidentally saw your details in the entry register at the desk,” I started, putting on my most innocent, helpless face. “It turns out we both are waiting for the same train, and we are actually in the same coach. The thing is, I have a major problem with deep sleep. Like, kumbhakaran-level sleep. Since the train is coming at 3:30 AM, there are high chances that I will completely miss it.”

I took a breath and fired my final shot. “Can you please help me out with that? Matlab, agar main so gaya, toh kya aap mujhe train aane ke time par utha dogi?”

She looked at me for a couple of seconds. I was half-expecting her to judge me or just tell me to set an alarm like a normal adult. But instead, her expression softened into a polite, cute smile.

“Yes,” she said simply.

And just like that, she walked back to her seat. Boom. First contact established. Mission accomplished.

— -

The Strategic Charge

She went back to her seat, and I settled back into mine. Mission Icebreaker was successful, so I was feeling slightly relaxed. But obviously, not completely. Dil toh abhi bhi dhak-dhak kar raha tha. To calm my nerves and kill time, I put on my earphones and started watching stand-up comedy. It is my all-time favourite time-pass, anyway.

An hour passed. Sometime during that hour, she got up and changed her seat. The new angle was interesting. We were still sitting quite far apart, but now we were directly facing each other. Agar main upar dekhta, toh sidha uska face dikhta. But staring from a distance like a creep was not going to get me anywhere.

I needed to bridge the gap. And what is the most universally accepted, legitimate excuse for moving around in a railway station waiting room?

Exactly. Phone charge karna hai.

I picked up my charger and casually strolled over to her row, acting like my battery was dying and this was a total emergency. To be fair, her row actually had multiple charging sockets, so my excuse was completely solid. I plugged in my phone and took a seat.

Now, there was a slight downside to this genius strategic move. Since we were in the same row, I could not see her cute, round face anymore without twisting my neck awkwardly. But the massive plus point? The physical distance between us had drastically reduced. I was sitting close enough that whenever she made a call or said something, I could clearly hear her sweet voice. And honestly, at that moment, just listening to her talk felt like a total win.

— -

Bursting Bubbles and Digital Realities

Sitting so close, I obviously ended up overhearing her conversation. She was talking on the phone, and honestly, she sounded pretty woke and sorted. And then, she dropped the ultimate bomb. She was talking about her boyfriend. That too, so openly and clearly!

Pop! That was the sound of my imaginary romantic bubble bursting. Chalo bhai, game over before it even started. The boyfriend revelation hit me, but being a practical guy, I quickly adjusted my priorities. I thought to myself, theek hai yaar, baat karegi toh theek, nahi karegi toh bhi theek. As long as she wakes me up when the train arrives, vera kaam ho jayega.

Just two people were sitting between us now. While she was still on her call, she casually glanced my way. We made eye contact, I gave her a small smile, and she actually smiled back. Small victories, you know?

A little later, I got up to go to the washroom. I decided to drop another update. I stopped near her and said, “Ye train toh late pe late hoti jaa rahi hai.” I had just checked the Where is my train app, and the arrival time had painfully shifted to 4:30 AM.

She looked up and said confidently, “Haan, par main jaag rahi hoon. 3:30 tak aa jayegi.”

I looked at her, totally confused. “Kisne kaha tumse?”

She pointed her finger towards the giant digital display screen hanging in the waiting room.

I could not help but chuckle. “Pehli baar train mein travel kar rahi ho kya?”

She gave me a slightly offended look. “Nahi toh.”

“Toh phir, where is my train app open karke usme check karo?” I told her like an experienced railway veteran. “Ye waiting room ki digital screens kabhi time par updated nahi hoti.”

— -

The Midnight Walk

She took out her phone, checked the app, and her expression changed. I was right. The train was massively delayed.

I looked at her and said, “So, abhi bhi isi train se jaane ka plan hai ya phir koi change hai? Because if you are staying, please mujhe sach mein utha lena. Main ab sone ki koshish karne wala hoon.”

She nodded with a small smile. “Theek hai.”

I went to the washroom, washed my face to feel a bit fresher, and came back. Now that the ice was completely broken, we naturally started chatting again. The topic shifted to the great Indian railway struggle: ticket confirmation. She told me she had managed to book a Tatkal ticket at the last minute. I laughed and told her how my ticket was initially Waiting List 18, and I was basically surviving on pure luck and this massive delay.

We were talking comfortably, and then she dropped a total surprise.

“Bahar chalein? Thoda ghoom kar aate hain,” she asked, looking around the dull, sleepy waiting room. “Yahan kab tak aise hi baithe rahenge?”

A cute girl asking me for a walk at the railway station? My sleepy brain suddenly woke up. Even if she had a boyfriend, hanging out with her was way better than staring at the waiting room walls.

“Theek hai, chalo,” I said immediately.

I checked my phone as we stood up to leave the waiting room. It was exactly 12:00 AM. Midnight. A massively delayed train, a boring night in Lalitpur, and now a midnight walk with a beautiful stranger. The script of my life was definitely getting a little thrilling.

— -

The Out-of-Syllabus Question

As we were walking out of the waiting room, she casually hit me with a random question.

“Tum smoke karte ho?” she asked.

I immediately shook my head. “Nahi. Strictly non-smoker.”

First, we stopped at a small stall and bought two water bottles. After that, we just started strolling along the platform, talking about random things. The night breeze was cool, the station was relatively quiet, and honestly, the vibe was pretty great.

We kept walking until we reached another shop, which had quite a bit of a crowd around it. She stopped, looked at the crowd, and then looked at me.

“Wahan bheed thodi zyada hai,” she said. “Mere liye ek cigarette le aao? Chhoti Advance.”

Wait, what? A Chhoti Advance?

Now, remember, I am a disciplined student who doesn’t even touch a cigarette. I don’t know anything about the sutta world. But obviously, hero toh banna tha.

“Theek hai, le aata hoon,” I said, trying to act totally cool and experienced.

I walked up to the tapri. My heart was actually beating a little faster because this was literally my first time buying a cigarette. I squeezed through the crowd and confidently said, “Bhaiya, ek Advance dena.”

The shopkeeper didn’t even look up while handing over change to someone else and fired back, “Chhoti ya badi?”

Boom. Out of syllabus question!

I stood there, confused for a second, my fake confidence completely crashing. Thankfully, my brain quickly replayed her exact instructions.

“Chhoti,” I quickly replied, paid the guy, and escaped the crowd.

I walked back and handed it to her. I just couldn’t keep a straight face anymore. I laughed at my own awkwardness and confessed, “Pata hai, zindagi mein pehli baar maine cigarette khareedi hai. Mujhe toh dukan par samajh hi nahi aaya jab usne poocha ki chhoti chahiye ya badi!”

— -

Trauma Compounding

We kept walking, and the conversation started flowing naturally. She told me she was actually a lawyer from Delhi but was currently enrolled at Bundelkhand University right here in Lalitpur. Why Lalitpur? Well, it turns out the Vice Principal of the university is her Tau ji. That explained a lot.

Then, as it usually happens past midnight with strangers, the conversation hit the deep end. She started talking about her ex-boyfriend. She told me their relationship had ended two years ago, but the breakup had completely shattered her. She confessed that she went into severe depression and had experienced terrible panic attacks.

When she said the words panic attack, something inside me just clicked. Suddenly, she wasn’t just a cute girl at a railway station anymore; she was someone who actually understood what I had been going through.

I told her that I had recently suffered a panic attack too. My trigger wasn’t a breakup, though. It was the absolute nightmare of every middle-class aspirant: I had messed up two major mains exams back-to-back, first the IB ACIO and then my ultimate goal, SSC CGL.

Suddenly, we were on the same page. It was like we were comparing our trauma instead of our hobbies.

“Kuch samajh hi nahi aa raha tha panic attack ke time,” she said, taking a drag of her cigarette.

I nodded heavily. “Bas zor-zor se rona aa raha tha.”

“Lambi lambi saansein chadh rahi thi, it felt like I was choking,” she added, looking down at the empty tracks.

I knew that exact suffocating feeling. “Khud ko harm pahunchane ka mann kar raha tha yaar. Aisa lag raha tha dimaag phat jayega, aur baar-baar bas logon ke taane aur negative remarks ghoom rahe the dimaag mein.”

She looked right at me, her eyes completely genuine. “Main khud ko duniya ka sabse bada failure maan rahi thi. Aisa lag raha tha ki poori life ki maa chud gayi hai.”

I blinked. She dropped the gaali so casually. But honestly, hearing her use that kind of raw, unfiltered language was weirdly comforting. It completely broke whatever formal, polite barrier was left between us. I realised I didn’t need to pretend to be a sophisticated, perfect gentleman anymore. I could just be real. So, from that point on, whenever the story or the emotion demanded it, I also started using gaalis without any hesitation.

She finished her cigarette, crushed the stub under her shoe, and we kept walking. Our conversation was non-stop. We just strolled up and down the platform, and she told me all the complicated, messy details about her past relationship. And I just listened, feeling a strange connection with a girl I had met just a few hours ago.

— -

A Shift in the Vibe

As we kept walking, the layers kept peeling off. She told me more about her lifestyle, casually mentioning that she was a hardcore non-vegetarian.

Then, it was my turn. I started dropping stories from my own past, and honestly, she looked pretty shocked hearing some of them. But man, I was thoroughly enjoying her company. It is so rare to find a girl who talks this openly, without any fake filters or judgment.

To lighten the mood, I told her about my earliest romantic tragedy.

“Pata hai, maine apna pehla love letter kab likha tha? Class 1 mein!”

She burst out laughing.

“Sach mein,” I said. “Par meri aashiqui shuru hone se pehle hi khatam ho gayi. Mummy ne vo letter pakad liya. Jiske liye likha tha, us tak toh pahuncha hi nahi, ulta ghar par meri alag se class lag gayi!”

By this time, the vibe was so comfortable and the night was so quiet that the conversation naturally drifted into territories you don’t usually discuss with strangers. We started talking about our sex lives. It wasn’t awkward at all; it was just two adults being brutally honest.

She told me that since she lived with strict rules and night stays weren’t allowed, she and her boyfriend used to do it right in his office. Bold, right?

Not to be left behind, I dropped my own secret.

“Maine apni virginity 18(as per the rules in India) ki age mein hi lose kar di thi,” I confessed. She was seven years older than me.”

She raised her eyebrows, totally invested in the story now.

We talked about so many random, crazy things. Meanwhile, our VIP Patiyala Express was playing its own game. Every time I checked the app, the arrival time would confidently push back by another thirty minutes. By now, the estimated time of arrival had stretched all the way to 6:00 AM.

But you know what the craziest part was? Pehle jis delay se mujhe gussa aur panic ho raha tha, ab mujhe usme actually maza aa raha tha. For the first time all night, I didn’t care about reaching my hostel on time. Let the train be late. I was enjoying the walk.

— -

Allergies and Air Conditioning

We had been walking outside for a while. I had given my charger to another traveller back inside, so I asked her, “Should we head back to the waiting room?”

She agreed, and we walked back in. But this time, things changed a bit. Instead of going back to her old spot, she dragged her luggage over and sat right next to my seat. The physical distance between us was completely gone now.

Since she had been talking about her boyfriend so much, I finally asked the obvious question.

“If you think about Sateesh so much, why did you guys even break up?”

That opened the floodgates. She started telling me her entire breakup story and pulled out her phone to show me pictures of them together. While swiping through her gallery, she showed me some photos that were not on her public social media accounts. Honestly, they were quite interesting for me. In those pictures, she was wearing some really short dresses. She even stopped at one photo and casually pointed it out, “Look at this one, I wore this deep neck top to a pub with my brothers.”

I was genuinely shocked because her cleavage was clearly visible in those pictures. It was too hot, but I kept my cool.

Since we were sharing, I opened my phone too. I showed her pictures of my old crush.

While we were looking at the photos, I noticed she started scratching her arms and neck. The itching was getting pretty bad. I asked her what was wrong, and she confessed that she had a severe mushroom allergy. Turns out, she had accidentally eaten some mushrooms earlier in the day, and the allergic reaction was kicking in right now.

— -

AC Dilemmas and Platform Setup

Now, there was an AC in the waiting room, but obviously, it was just for show. It was not cooling at all. I saw her struggling and scratching her arms.

I looked at her and said, “Listen, I have faced this exact problem before. Sweating just triggers the itching even more. Chalo wapas bahar chalte hain. At least there is some cool breeze outside on the platform.”

She agreed, and we stepped back out into the open air. Honestly, I had completely lost track of time. The hours were just flying by without me even noticing. A few hours ago, I was sitting there cursing my luck and the railway system for this massive delay. And now? Mujhe toh kaafi maza aa raha tha. I was genuinely enjoying every single second of this unexpected hangout.

While walking next to her, I just smiled to myself, looked up at the sky, and silently thanked God. “Thank you, boss,” I said in my head. “Your setup today is absolutely perfect.”

— -

Pavement Philosophies and Early Marriage

Once we were outside in the open air, she started feeling much more relaxed. The cool breeze worked like magic, and thankfully, her itching finally stopped. By this time, both of us were actually getting pretty tired from all the walking. So, we just found a spot by the side of the road, sat down on the pavement, and continued our endless talking session.

The topic shifted to her family. She told me she had two younger brothers. Then she dropped a massive bomb. One of her younger brothers got married two years ago, when he was just 21, and now, they are already heading for a divorce.

I was completely shocked. 21? Seriously? I looked at her and laughed, saying, “Bechare ka baal vivah kara diya tum logon ne! Who even gets married at 21 in this generation?”

She defended her family, saying that they did not force him. He had actually said yes to the marriage himself. She explained that he was a very shy guy by nature, never had a girlfriend, and basically stayed away from all of that.

Hearing this, my male brain immediately decoded the situation. I could not help myself, so I indirectly pointed out the obvious truth to her. I told her, “Look, if a 21-year-old shy guy with zero female interaction suddenly agrees to an arranged marriage, there is usually only one reason. He probably just said yes because he thought it was his only legal ticket to finally having sex.”

It was blunt, but hey, we were already past the point of being polite and formal anyway!

— -

Dead Strangers

Hearing my blunt logic about her brother, she burst into a loud laugh. She reached out and gave me a gentle, playful smack on my back.

“Shut up,” she said, still giggling at my comment. Honestly, that light, friendly touch felt really nice.

You know that moment when a girl playfully hits you, and you suddenly realise the comfort level between you two has completely levelled up? Yeah, that was it. The awkwardness of being strangers was officially dead. Andar hi andar mera dil ekdum khush ho gaya tha. Things were definitely going in the right direction.

— -

Decency and Respect

Even though our conversation had gone into such deep and unfiltered territories, I was very clear about one thing in my head. I was completely respecting her boundaries.

Usually, when a girl talks so openly about her past, her body, or her personal life, a lot of guys might take it as a green signal to try something stupid or get overly friendly. But not me. Maine apni taraf se usko ek baar bhi touch nahi kiya. Not even a casual touch from my side.

And despite all the bold topics we discussed, from her pub photos to our sex lives, I made sure I did not pass a single cheap or dirty personal comment about her. There is a very thin line between being a comfortable late-night friend and becoming a creep, and I knew exactly where to draw that line. I wanted to make sure she felt 100 per cent safe with me. Batein chahe kitni bhi raw aur bold ho rahi thi, but decency aur respect hamesha apni jagah honi chahiye.

I think she sensed that gentleman vibe from me, and honestly, maybe that is exactly why she was able to let her guard down so completely and trust a stranger at a railway station.

— -

Midnight Chai and Snacks

We were talking continuously, and eventually, the lack of sleep started hitting her. She started getting those heavy sleep jerks, literally nodding off while sitting there.

I looked at her and panicked a little. I laughed and told her, “Listen, please do not faint or pass out on me here. I am seriously not ready to handle a medical emergency right now. Plus, look at the people around. If a girl suddenly faints next to me in the middle of the night, everyone will automatically blame me. They will think I fed you something weird or spiked your drink!”

She smiled sleepily at that. To keep her awake, I suggested, “Chalo, let us go get some coffee.”

But her eyes had wandered to a nearby tea stall. She actually had her heart set on the bhajiyas kept at the counter. So she countered my coffee offer and said, “No, let us have chai instead.”

I said, “Theek hai, let’s go.”

We walked up to the stall, but as soon as we got closer, I inspected the food. The bhajiyas looked completely cold, dry, and honestly, not safe to eat at all. We both mutually agreed to drop the bhajiya plan.

Instead, we played it safe. We bought two cups of hot chai, some biscuits, and a packet of Haldiram’s Punjabi Tadka. Armed with our midnight snack, we went right back to our spot by the side of the road, sat down, and quietly enjoyed our chai and namkeen together. Sharing tea and snacks on a quiet pavement with a girl I had just met a few hours ago… it was just a perfect, simple moment.

— -

Shared Earphones and Playlists

My good luck was working overtime, because the train got delayed even further!

The hot chai did its magic, and her sleep jerks finally stopped. We sat there talking for a long time. Eventually, both of us needed to use the washroom, so we decided to head back inside the waiting room.

When we walked in, the scene was completely different. The crowd had thinned out, and surprisingly, that useless AC had actually started cooling the place. It felt pretty comfortable now, so we decided to just stay inside. We sat down next to each other and started casually scrolling through our phones.

I checked the app again and broke the news to her, “Train ka time ab 6:30 AM ho chuka hai.”

Instead of getting annoyed, what she did next completely caught me off guard. Without saying a word, she took one of her earphones and gently put it in my ear. She played the trending song from that movie, Dhurandhar The Revenge, Jaiye Sajna. Man, I cannot even explain how happy I was because that is personally one of my absolute favourite songs!

Sitting next to a beautiful girl, sharing earphones, and listening to your favourite track late at night… this was straight out of a romantic movie. We just sat there in comfortable silence, enjoying the music together.

After the song ended, we started talking about the movie Dhurandhar. Then she looked at me and asked, “Have you seen this Hollywood movie?” I cannot remember the exact name right now.

I laughed and honestly replied, “Nahi yaar. Main English movies bahut kam dekhta hoon.”

Hearing that, she gave me a slightly mischievous smile and suggested two names. “You have to watch 50 Shades of Grey and 365 Days. Pehle 365 Days dekhna, bahut maza aayega tumhe.”

Now, I might be an SSC aspirant, but I am not living under a rock. I told her, “Main mostly stand-up comedy sunta hoon, toh unke sets mein maine in movies ke naam bahut sune hain. But maine kabhi dekhi nahi hai. Lekin ab tum keh rahi ho, toh pakka dekhunga.”

She smiled and asked, “Okay, agla song kaun sa lagau?”

I did not even hesitate. “Billo Rani,” I said.

She gave me a very confused, amused look. I quickly defended my choice, “Arre sun kar toh dekho! Maanta hoon ki ye ek item song hai, but trust me, iske lyrics Jaiye Sajna ki tarah hi bahut deep hain.”

— -

The False Alarm

We paused the music, and the conversation naturally shifted to more of our past stories. She told me this crazy incident about how she once smoked a joint and completely passed out. But she was quick to clarify that she was done with that phase and had totally stopped drinking beer and smoking joints now.

By the time we checked our phones, it was already 5:00 AM. The exhaustion was finally catching up to us, and the sleepiness hit us hard again. I looked at her struggling to keep her eyes open and offered a practical solution.

“Listen, you go ahead and sleep for a bit,” I told her. “I am awake anyway. Once you wake up, we can swap, and then I will take a nap.”

She nodded, made herself comfortable, and went to sleep right next to me. To make sure I didn’t fall asleep on duty, I put my earphones in and started watching a Samay Raina podcast on YouTube.

I watched the video for a while, but then, nature called. Honestly, the pressure was real, and I urgently needed to take a dump. I got up and rushed to the men’s washroom. But classic Indian railway station struggles — there were only two toilets inside, and of course, both were occupied. I had no choice but to stand outside and wait awkwardly for quite some time before my turn finally came.

Once I was done, I walked out feeling much lighter and relaxed. I casually strolled back to our spot in the waiting room, expecting to see her sleeping. But as I got closer, my heart suddenly skipped a beat. She wasn’t there. The seat right next to mine, where she had been sleeping so peacefully just fifteen minutes ago, was empty.

— -

The Date Confusion

I panicked for a second, but then I looked around and took a deep breath of relief. She had not disappeared anywhere. She had just moved and was sitting peacefully right next to where all our luggage was kept.

I walked over and took a seat next to her. By this time, it was already 6:30 AM. The sun was out, the station was waking up, and that typical morning laziness was starting to kick in. She looked at me, stretched a little, and asked, “Brush karein kya?”

I glanced at the crowded railway station washrooms and then checked the Where is my train app for the millionth time. The great Patiyala Express had done it again. The arrival time had comfortably shifted to 7:30 AM now.

I looked back at her and shook my head. “Yahan nahi yaar,” I said. “Train ki timing ab 7:30 AM ho gayi hai. Train mein baith kar hi aaram se brush karenge. Yahan is bheed mein bilkul mann nahi kar raha mera.”

She nodded, completely agreeing with my logic. Let us be honest, doing your morning routine in a public railway station washroom is a struggle no one wants to face if they have a choice. So, we decided to just wait it out for another hour.

— -

Morning Golden Light

So, we finally decided to make our move to platform number 4, where our legendary train was actually supposed to arrive.

Walking towards the platform felt surprisingly good. The sun had just risen, casting that perfect morning golden light over the station. There was a natural, cool morning breeze blowing, and thankfully, the platform was not heavily crowded yet. It was a proper, peaceful early morning vibe. We found an empty bench and sat down side by side, finally dropping our bags.

I looked at her, smiled, and said, “Bas, ab hum ye battle jeetne wale hain saath mein. Honestly, agar tum nahi hoti na, toh main toh pakka so jata. Meri train 100 per cent chhoot jati aaj.”

She just smiled back at me. We had survived the ultimate Indian Railways endurance test. A 12-hour delay that started as a massive headache had somehow turned into this beautiful, unforgettable night. We were just moments away from boarding our train, but deep down, I was really glad that the train was so late.

— -

The Kerala Express Dilemma

Just as we were feeling victorious, reality hit us. She stretched a little and groaned, “Ab toh kisi medicine ki need ho rahi hai. My back pain has started, and even my legs are hurting now.” She was so exhausted that she literally lay down on those connected steel platform chairs. You know the ones at the stations — they are completely uneven, hard, and super uncomfortable. But honestly, when you are that tired, even those steel benches feel like a luxury bed.

And just to add a little more drama to our morning, the Indian Railways played its final trick. The train got delayed by another half an hour.

Suddenly, her phone rang. It was another friend of hers — the guy who had actually booked her Tatkal ticket. She answered the call, and her friend dropped an absolute bomb.

“Sun,” he said from the other side. “Ye delayed wali Patiyala Express ab nahi aa rahi hai. It is going to come at 8:30 PM tonight, which is its regular scheduled time.”

She sat up instantly, completely shocked, her sleep vanishing in a second. “What? Phir kya karoon main? How am I supposed to go?”

Her friend quickly gave her the backup plan. “Listen, don’t panic. The Kerala Express is arriving on your same platform right now. Usme baith jao chupchap. Varna dopahar tak Lalitpur se koi doosri train nahi hai.”

— -

The Blind Trust

I immediately pulled out my phone and checked the live status myself. Her friend was completely wrong. Our delayed Patiyala Express was actually just 15 minutes away!

Since our train was almost 12 hours late, it had officially crossed over into the next day. Her friend must have checked today’s fresh schedule by mistake and gotten confused. Honestly, with Indian Railways and their massive delays, this kind of date confusion is totally normal.

She looked at me, panic clear in her tired eyes, and asked, “Should we just get into the Kerala Express as he said?”

I shook my head firmly. “Nahi yaar,” I told her. “Our train is definitely coming. If we board the Kerala Express right now without a valid ticket, especially in this totally exhausted state, bahut buri wali gand maregi. The TTE will catch us, harass us, and ruin whatever little peace we have left. Waise hi pehle se lode lage hue hain itne delay ki wajah se, let us not invite more trouble.”

I was fully expecting her to pull out her own phone, cross-check the app, or call her friend back to verify. But she did not do any of that. She just looked at me, nodded, and without rechecking a single thing, completely trusted my words. She agreed to wait for our original train.

That level of blind trust from a girl I had met just a few hours ago at a railway station… it honestly felt pretty great. I felt like a responsible hero who just saved the day.

— -

The Domestic Washbasin Moment

Finally, the long wait was over. The legendary 1057 Patiyala Express slowly rolled onto platform number 4. We picked up our bags and boarded our common coach, M2.

First, we went to check out her assigned seat, but the area around it was completely packed with passengers. There was absolutely no space for me to sit there with her. So, I took charge, grabbed her luggage, and guided her towards my seat instead.

I suggested we take the upper berths. Now, because she is pretty short, climbing up to the top berth was a genuinely hard task for her. She wasn’t exactly thrilled about the idea, but I convinced her, and she finally agreed to make the climb.

Why was I pushing for the upper berth? Well, my brain was running its own strategic calculations. I was secretly thinking that sitting face-to-face on the upper berths would give us complete privacy, far away from the aunties, uncles, and the general chaos on the lower seats.

Once we settled up there, she took out her phone. “Let’s order something from Zomato,” she suggested. She clearly had some railway catering trauma. “Last time I ate the pantry food, I got severe loose motions. I am not taking that risk again.”

This was my moment to shine with the ultimate Indian trump card: home-cooked food.

“Wait, don’t order,” I stopped her. “Main abhi ghar se aa raha hoon, aur mummy ne safar ke liye tiffin pack kiya hai. She packed pooriyan and kacche aam ki sabzi — that special methi dana one. Let’s just eat that for now. Baad mein aur bhook lagi toh kuch order kar lenge.”

Nothing beats a mother’s packed railway tiffin, and she knew it. She smiled and instantly agreed to the plan.

After sorting out the food situation, we climbed down and headed towards the washbasin outside the toilets. Standing side by side, swaying with the movement of the train, we finally brushed our teeth together. It was such a strange but oddly domestic moment with a girl I had met just a few hours ago.

While we were standing there brushing, the train hit a rough patch and started jerking heavily. We had to hold on to keep our balance. For some reason, those train jerks immediately reminded me of our late-night, unfiltered conversation on the platform. My mind went straight back to her confessing how she and her ex used to do it in his office.

Balancing myself against the moving train, I looked at her, remembering that I had already told her the office scenario was a fantasy of mine. I decided to drop one more truth bomb.

“You know,” I said casually, letting the train sway us again, “Office is cool, but doing it on a moving train… that is actually my other fantasy.”

— -

Biryani Restrictions and PNR Queries

After brushing our teeth, we finally climbed back to our upper berths and sat down to eat the poori and kachhe aam ki sabzi that my mummy had packed. It hit the spot perfectly. Once we finished the pooriyan, she reached into her bag and pulled out a polythene.

She looked at me a bit hesitantly and asked, “Will it bother you if I eat non-veg right in front of you?”

I smiled and replied casually, “As long as you don’t try to force-feed it to me, I have absolutely no problem. Eat whatever you want.”

After the meal, the pure exhaustion of staying awake all night finally took over. We both pulled our blankets over ourselves and went to sleep. I glanced at her one last time before dozing off, and honestly, she looked incredibly cute sleeping there so peacefully.

We slept completely knocked out for about two or three hours. When my eyes finally opened, it did not take long for our talking marathon to start all over again.

But I noticed something that actually annoyed me. I looked out the window and thought to myself, “Ab ye bkl train jaldi jaldi chalne lagi!” When we were at the station, it was delayed for hours, and now, when I actually wanted it to slow down, the train was rushing. I still had so many questions running through my mind that I wanted to ask this brutally frank girl.

But I checked the time, and it was already 12:00 PM. The app showed our arrival time at Nizamuddin as 2:30 PM. The journey was ending too fast.

This time, our conversation steered into a new territory: girls-to-girls talk versus boys-to-boys talk. When I told her the kind of unfiltered stuff guys usually discuss, a slight wave of awkwardness hit the air.

To balance it out, she shared her side. She laughed and said, “Honestly, we girls mostly just talk about normal things like periods.” Then she got a bit vulnerable and shared her own experience. She told me how severe her period pain gets, and confessed that her habit of doing nashe only makes the cramps and the whole problem much worse for her body.

By this time, we realised we needed some actual food. She picked up her phone to finally place that Zomato order we had discussed earlier. But we had lost track of time. The train had already crossed the delivery window for Mathura. The app clearly showed that the next possible food delivery would only be at Nizamuddin station, which was our final stop.

She put her phone down, looked at me, and smiled. “Koi baat nahi,” she said. “Next time, whenever you travel, main hi tumhare liye food order karungi. Just share your PNR with me.”

— -

No Phone Numbers, No Social Media

When she said she would order food for me next time and asked me to share my PNR, I took a deep breath. I looked at her and said something that completely changed the vibe.

“Nahi,” I said calmly. “Tum nahi karogi order. Aur na hi hum number exchange karenge.”

She looked a little surprised, maybe even a bit confused. But I explained my logic to her.

“Listen,” I told her. “Kal raat se lekar abhi tak sab kuch kitna badhiya hua hai. We spent such amazing quality time together. Humne aisi baatein ki hain jo shayad hum apne closest doston se bhi nahi karte. And honestly, main nahi chahta ki ye kisi bhi tarah se spoil ho. Agar hum contact mein rahenge, real world mein phone par baat karenge ya text karenge, toh dheere dheere ye magic khatam ho jayega. The moment will get spoiled.”

She listened to me quietly, processing what I was saying. The truth is, sometimes a perfect memory is better than a complicated reality. And surprisingly, she completely understood my point. She smiled a soft, understanding smile and agreed with me without any argument.

Maine uski aankhon mein dekhte hue apni aakhri baat boli. “Main hamesha yaad rakhunga ki Lalitpur ke platform par mujhe ek aisi bandi mili thi. Aur tum hamesha yaad rakhna ki ek aisa banda tha jiske saath tumne itni unfiltered raat bitayi. Bas, yahi kaafi hai.”

It was such a heavy, poetic moment. No phone numbers, no Instagram handles. Just two strangers who shared a beautiful, completely raw journey and decided to leave it exactly like that — a perfect, untouched memory.

— -

The Exposure of Generation Gaps

We shifted back to some random conversations, but in the back of my mind, I knew the journey was almost over. Out of nowhere, I asked her if she masturbates or watches porn. Swati honestly replied no, stating she has complete self-control even after two years of her breakup. When she mentioned a theory that females have stronger sexual desires, I disagreed based on my observations. I casually shared a wild local incident where an older person in a nearby locality got exposed after a bunch of his personal videos went viral online, proving that a high drive knows no age bar.

— -

The Reality of Male Biology

I then explained the unfiltered reality of male biology from a guy’s perspective. I was completely transparent about my routine and the plain logic behind masturbation, explaining how the body naturally operates 24/7. I explained how it helps prevent the hassle and messy experience of natural releases when single. She listened carefully, completely agreeing with the practical reasoning. I further dropped the top-secret reality of morning wood and how unpredictable things can randomly get for a guy, even in the middle of the day, without any dirty thoughts, making it an awkward public hassle. She absorbed these facts, laughing as I told her that this is exactly what actual male-to-male conversations look like.

The Final 50 Minutes

After I disconnected the call, I looked at her and asked, “Neend aa rahi hai kya?”

She opened her eyes and said, “Nahi, your mummy was on the call,l so I was just keeping quiet.”

I smiled and told her, “So jao aaram se. Main tumhe aise hi sota hua chhod kar chala jaunga.” Since she had to travel further up to Sonipat on the same train, she still had a long way to go. She smiled and said nahi, but after a few minutes, she slowly closed her eyes again.

Only the last 50 minutes of my journey were left. Looking at her, mujhe usko zor se hug karne ka bahut mann kar raha tha. She honestly looked very cute sleeping there.

I controlled my urges and killed those thoughts. I just sat there for a while, quietly watching her sleep, soaking in the final moments of this unbelievable trip. Then, I decided it was time. I quietly climbed down from our upper berths, where we had been sitting face-to-face all this time.

I grabbed my bags, walked away from her, and went straight to the seat right near the exit gate, quietly waiting for Nizamuddin station to finally arrive.

— -

The Gehra Jhatka

After that, we did not have any conversation at all. No final bye, no goodbye. I just walked out, but deep down, I was feeling really bad. Pata nahi kyon, but my heart felt heavy.

I got off the train because I had to head back to my hostel. I went straight to the station and sat inside the metro.

While sitting there, ek gehra jhatka sa feel ho raha tha. It was this strange, hollow emptiness that I literally cannot explain in words. Note: Some names and identifying details have been changed to protect the privacy of the individuals involved.