Arakshi TS - Train of Coincidences - Epilogue pg 9

Kalka Railway Station, Himachal Pradesh, 5.55 a.m.

It was just another morning for her; another attempt at taking a step towards a new life, new beginnings. She sighed and leaned against the glass window of the train, her glassy eyes devoid of emotions. She reached out to push the sliding window pane and her gaze stopped at the sapphire bangles that adorned her arms; the bright blue colour appeared bleak, even though the early morning sunshine bounced off their glittery surface. She sighed and pushed against the window pane which didn't seem to budge. Just like her. She was still stuck in the past.

Even though she had detached his name from hers, she couldn't seem to detach him from her life. Sakshi Anand will always remain Sakshi Rishabh Mathur.

She pushed harder against the window pane, until it finally gave way. A gust of cool wind touched her face and she smiled. She gazed outside at the scores of people heaving their suitcases and bags on the platform. She could hear the loud shouts of the coolies as they bustled in and out of the Kalka-Shimla express, suitcases stacked on their turban-covered heads. She sighed and stared at the empty seat opposite her, her mind wandering to the past once more. She moved her gaze towards the faint outline of the mountains visible in the distance, their peaks concealed in the early morning mist.

Maybe this time she will be able to leave the past behind. Maybe this train journey will give her the fresh start that she was looking for.

1 year ago

Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus, Mumbai

She gasped when a pair of hands wrapped around her from the back. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and whispered, "I love you, Sakshi."

"Rishabh!" She laughed and looked into the pair of hazel eyes. "Mujhe laga tum nahi aane wale."

She settled into the blue leather seats of the train and pulled him beside her, as a coolie walked through the narrow corridor of the express train with three suitcases stacked on his head. He pulled her towards him and said, "Sorry thoda late ho gaya."

"Woh toh tum humesha hote ho." She crossed her arms and looked away from him. "Mujhe laga shayad is baar bhi ticket pakda ke khud gayab ho gaye."

"Tumhe toh pata hai kitna kaam rehta hai office mein. Isliye toh yeh holiday plan kiya."

Her lips twitched and she asked, "Waise, achanak Goa kyun? I mean, our financial conditions aren't exactly favourable..."

"Who cares about the money?" He moved closer to her and said, "Can I not spend some time with my wife?"

She pushed him away and smiled. "Of course. Chalo, at least you remember that I am your wife."

He touched her cheek and said, "I'm sorry I was so busy the last few months. Ek important kaam tha... Anyway, it's all done now. Ab mera saara waqt tumhara."

She heard the door to the train compartment open and a series of loud shouts reached her ears. Something didn't feel right. She watched Rishabh glance nervously out of the tinted windows of the train and she asked, "Kya hua?"

She saw him stiffen as he glanced outside, his fingers suddenly gripping hers tightly. Fear clutched at her throat as she glimpsed the terror in his hazel eyes. She followed his gaze and saw a bunch of police officers push through the tide of people on the platform, their eyes scanning the train windows. She watched a man with a tuft of dark hair and raven-coloured eyes pull out a gun from his holster and spin it on his fingers, before heading towards the door of their compartment. She turned towards Rishabh, his hands suddenly cold and clammy in hers and questioned him, "Police? Aisa kya hua hoga..."

He jumped, stealing fearful glances towards the corridor and whispered, "Sakshi..."

The shouts got louder and she turned towards the corridor to see the police officer stride through, the gun gripped tightly in his hands. His intense gaze was fixed on her husband.

It all happened too quickly for her.

All of a sudden, Rishabh got up from the seat and broke off into a run down the corridor, away from the police officer. She watched in shock as another police officer with a dark moustache and stubble approached from the other end of the passage, blocking Rishabh.

He recoiled in fear against the blue seats of the train, at a little distance from her, as the two police officers closed in on him from both sides.

Within seconds, the first police officer had him pinned by his throat on the side of the passage, the gun pointed at his head.

She flinched as the deep voice of the police officer boomed through the train, "Tujhe kya laga? Tu bhaag jaayega aur hum tujhe chod denge?"

Rishabh trembled, his gaze flicking between the two police officers. "Aap kya bol rahe hai..."

The second police officer scoffed and said, "Rawte, ise samajh nahi aa raha."

She stood rooted to the spot, clutching to the cold blue leather of the seats. What were the men talking about? And why was Rishabh scared? What had he done? He couldn't have done anything wrong. She had known him for two years; she had always known him as the person who stood for what was right.

The other police officer barked, "Rishabh Mathur. Central bank robbery and shooting. Two days ago. Kuch yaad aaya?"

She froze as soon as she heard the name of the bank. Her father was the managing director of that bank. Two days ago. The words reverberated in her mind, over and over again. But then, it can't be. She hadn't heard anything about it.

She took a step towards the police officers, her eyes still fixed on the fearful eyes of her husband. She opened her mouth a few times, but the right words wouldn't come out. And eventually, when they did, it was a mere string of words that made no sense whatsoever. Her voice trembled as she spoke. "He cannot... my father... You must be mistaken."

It was then that the first police officer swivelled around to face her for the first time. Her eyes fell upon the name etched in white upon the dark badge that gleamed on his chest: Arjun S. Rawte.

His gaze was so piercing that she found herself faltering, her hands suddenly reaching out to hold on to the cool ladder running up the side of the train's corridor.

His tone changed drastically as he took a step towards her; his voice was soft, almost... sympathetic. "Sakshi Mathur?"

She nodded, wondering how the man knew her name.

He let out a prolonged sigh and said, "I'm afraid this man has been using you."

"What do you mean?" Her voice sounded ghastly and unreal, even to herself.

"Sakshi," Rishabh's urgent voice made her sharply shift her gaze towards him. "Yeh sab jhooth hai. Don't believe him."

She witnessed the fury in Arjun's eyes as he turned towards Rishabh, grabbing him by the collar and lifting him off the ground. "Jhooth hai? Agar kahoon ke humare paas saboot hai toh?"

She flinched as she saw Rishabh's cowering form in the police officer's hands. Her voice was reduced to a hoarse whisper as she questioned the man. "How do you mean he used me?"

Arjun let out a loud, raucous laughter and said, "Why do you think he married you? It was so he could have easy access to the bank. No questions asked. After all, tumhare Papa managing director hai."

"Sakshi," the voice of the other police officer started her. "Aapko ghar jaana chahiye. You'll find out everything."

She didn't want to believe these men. How could she trust their words? But the glimpse of truth that she saw in Arjun Rawte's eyes frightened her. A sudden tear lurked at the corner of her eye as she turned towards her husband. She pleaded him silently, waiting for him to deny the words of the police officers. Rishabh couldn't have been involved in... He loved her.

He had been using her.

The words echoed over and over in her mind as she tried to meet his gaze. But not once did he look into her eyes. Her hands slid down the metal ladder as she recalled past memories: his sudden liking to her father, the frequent visits, and the conversations he used to strike with her father. She had been blinded by his love.

She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and moved closer to Rishabh.

A part of her still trusted him, still believed in him.

"Is this true?" She whispered. A tear slid down her cheek and she quickly brushed it away.

She knew the answer even before he looked away. His eyes said it all.

The realisation struck her hard; she slumped on the nearby seat, her fingers clutching on to her red dupatta resting on her lap as silent tears streamed down her cheeks.

He didn't really love her. He never had.

As his colleague clasped the handcuffs around the wrist of the man, Arjun Rawte found himself gazing at the limp form of the woman by his side. She looked so fragile, as she sat there, hands lying lifeless on her lap, that he was too afraid to even call out her name. His hand reached out to touch her shoulder, but it froze in mid-air. After all, he didn't even know this woman.

He knew one thing: she loved her husband deeply. The thought made his fists clench with rage as he glanced at the man who had merely used her for the last two years for the careful planning of a crime.

"Rawte, chalein?" The sudden voice of his colleague startled him and he tore his gaze away from the woman.

He nodded, turning back one last time to glance at her. He wanted to reach out to her and tell her that it would all be fine; all wasn't lost.

"Rawte?"

"Hmm. Aa raha hoon, Rathod." He replied and started walking towards the door leading out of the compartment.

As he saw Rathod drag the man out of the train, he heard a cry behind him. The woman had stood up, her eyes glistening with tears. The intensity of pain he witnessed in her eyes sent a shiver through his body and instinctively, he took a step towards her.

Suddenly, she quickened her pace through the corridor, her eyes fixed on the door through which Rishabh had been dragged out a moment ago. Something made him grab her by the arm as she tried to move past him, her eyes holding a strange desperation that scared him.

"Rishabh!" Her blood-curling scream sent a chill down his spine.

She struggled to free herself from his grip, tears streaming down her cheeks, pleading him to let go of her.

When he couldn't bear it any longer, he held her by the shoulders and shook her until her screams stopped. "Sakshi!" He yelled at her. "You need to let go."

She breathed in sharply, her body suddenly becoming limp in his arms. Her voice trembled as she spoke, "How can I?" She lifted her glazed eyes towards him and whispered, "I love him."

He felt his grip relax on her shoulders as she screamed, "I love him!"

As she collapsed on the floor of the train, her fingers loosely wrapped around his wrist, he knew that he would never be able to forget this woman. He knew that the expression he had seen in her eyes that night, would haunt him for a long time.

Present day

Kalka-Shimla Express train, 6.05 a.m.

The train departed as soon as he stepped on it. He heard the shrill whistle, followed by the gentle chugging of the train as it pulled out of the Kalka Railway station. ACP Arjun Rawte slung the rucksack over his shoulder and moved through the narrow corridor of the train, his eyes scanning the back of the seats where the seat numbers were mentioned.

As he reached his seat, he tossed his rucksack on the overhead luggage rack before sweeping his eyes over the woman clad in an azure blue churidaar-kurta seated opposite him. Her gaze was fixed at the rising sun peeping through the mesh of clouds, just above the mountains. Her face was concealed behind a dark curtain of her hair, which gleamed golden in the early morning sunshine that filtered through the long strands. Sunlight bounced off the sapphire glass bangles that she wore on her arms and created a glittering bed of stars on the roof of the train.

It was when he settled on the plush blue leather seat that she turned her face towards him.

"Sakshi Mathur." He instantly blurted out.

He watched her body go rigid as a flash of recognition crossed her eyes. Strands of her hair played across her face as the wind blew in through the open windows.

The past year, he had often thought about the woman on the train; her agonized expression had haunted him for days. He had wondered if time had been able to heal her pain and give her a new beginning.

Now that he looked into those dark, sad eyes, he realised that she was still the broken woman that he had seen last.

When she finally spoke, he noticed the absence of emotions in her voice. "Sakshi Anand."

He asked, "Do you...?"

She interrupted him before he could complete his question. "Arjun Rawte."

***

Three hours had passed since the man had taken his place opposite her. For a moment, she had been thrown back into the past again: to that night which had turned her life upside down. She could still feel the intensity of his gaze when he had looked at her that night, as she had broken down in his arms. This man had seen her at her worst. And once again, fate had brought them together.

Dark clouds now hovered in the sky, their thick mesh concealing the bright sun that had once been sprinkling golden sunshine into the train. She didn't know why but she found herself gazing at him now and then as the train chugged through the mountains. He looked so different than the last time she had seen him, dressed in a black shirt and a pair of denim jeans, a rough stubble covering his jaw.

They hadn't spoken a word since they had recognised each other. He had been merely sneaking glances at her, when he thought she wasn't looking. Even today, there was something in the way he looked at her that made her feel vulnerable and protected at the same time.

As time wore on, the wind became stronger. The sky was now a dark shade of grey; the mountains appeared even more daunting, set against the thick rain clouds. She watched the branches of the lush green trees, covering the steep slopes, dance wildly in the strong gale as the train snaked through the mountains. She gathered her hair to one side as the cool wind whistled through the train.

When the first drops of rain touched her face, a faint smile appeared on her lips. Even though life had changed her, her love for rain remained. She felt his gaze on her as she extended her hand out of the window, feeling the drops fall harder on her palm. She moved her face towards the window, letting the raindrops wash over her face and leave behind a cool, calming sensation.

It was when the rain intensified, that she reached out to shut the sliding window pane. Rain lashed against her face, as she pulled the window pane towards her as hard as she could. It wouldn't budge.

She sighed and tried to pull it towards her once more, her clothes now drenched from the heavy downpour.

That's when she felt a pair of arms around her body, his rough fingers curling around hers to tug the tiny handle of the sliding window pane. She turned around, gazing into his eyes as he helped her close the window. Their eyes met for a brief instant, as the train's whistle echoed through the valleys and the pine forests, the wind sprinkling the cool spray over their faces. He blinked as the raindrops entered his eyes and tugged at the window again. After a moment, the window gave way and shut firmly with a click. His fingers lingered on her wet arms for a moment, before he hastily withdrew his hands.

The train's chugging faded away as he moved back into his seat, running his fingers through his wet hair. As his gaze met hers once more, he saw a twinkle in her eyes.

Her lips curved into a smile as she tucked wet strands of her hair behind her ears and said, "Thank you."

And that's when their conversation started.

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