FF: Rewrite the Stars Part 10 (Page 30) - Page 4

Karan's POV

The railway station(on the train)

'Tarapata rahun ga, jesay saalon saal tarpa raha,

Kohi raha nahi, jise khabhi apna kaha,

Tanhaiyan aab aadat si huin,

Jab Ghunah hi kiya, toh saaza hi mili,

Jaane na koi,

Iss dil ka haal,

Dard mei rehta hai ye,

Haar lamha, haar baar,

There his hand stopped, the pen lingering on the last word. Memories began to flood back. The intense screams and the blurred faces of his loved ones.

His poetry was now the voice of his broken heart, the only way he could keep himself sane. He tilted his head back, trying to find some support in the cold banister behind him. The cold chills travelled down his spine, reminding him that there was no support left for him in this world.

It was nearly midnight; just 15 minutes left for the train to set off. Soon he would be able to run away from his past yet again.

He shoved his diary back in the inside pocket of his leather jacket. Patting it in place just above his heart, for he knew it held his most private confessions.

Not only did it contain his poetry, it contained his guilt, the same guilt he had been carrying with him for the last 10 years. The same guilt that had caused him to isolate himself.

For he was a sinner and sinners did not deserve any happiness. Sinners did not deserve any love...

The pain in his soul was very much alive, constantly reminding him of the past. He knew he would always be a wanderer, one without a home. Weariness was all he felt but stopping and trying to forget would never stop the vivid nightmares.

Karan could feel his eyes becoming heavier as sleep tried to takeover, trying to fight it was useless for he was too tired, too weak to fight anymore. He knew the nightmare were about to begin and they would play out that night once again.

A part of him died that night and any moment now he would relive the torment..

Just then he heard the faint sound of anklets in the distance, the sweet sound was almost soothing. He could feel himself drawn towards it. Karan looked out of the train in search of the gently sound.

His gaze fell on a vision adorn in red and gold. Her dress swayed with every petite stride she took, each stride wearing her out. About 50 metres behind her were a pack of rough looking thugs armed with sticks and sharp knives. They were following the trail she left behind, the footprints of her blood. The bride's net ghughaat veiled her face but he could imagine the pain and exhaustion she was in.

Why was she running? Who was she?

For the first time in 10 years, he felt his heart beat as it reached out to her. He was determined to listen to his heart and help her. Without a care for his own safety he ran through the train towards the opening. He leaned out of the moving train and forwarded his hand towards her. He heard the clock strike 12.

Grab my hand, RUN!'

He wasn't sure if she had heard him, so he forced himself to lean further and pull her inside. She slammed into his chest and stopped moving. Her faltering breaths concerned him; he pulled her into an embrace in an attempt to keep her warm until they reached the nearest hospital. Her delicate figure rested against him for support and pale hands tightly held his as if her life depended on him. Karan fought the temptation to see her face, she was someone else's bride and he had no right to see her face he told himself.

Her payal lay nearby, he picked it up and stared at it for a while. It glimmered as he held it up in the moonlight revealing a faint initial, too faint to read.

Its sound had saved him from experiencing the terrors in his sleep. It had woken him up, how? How could something so small, so delicate save him from re-experiencing the tragedy of his past? The tragedy that changed his life in a single moment.

Right now it lay lifeless in his hands mirroring its owner, the only person who could bring it back to life.

tumhari payal ki meethi chanachan,

Yaad rahe gi mujhe,

Bachaya meine nahi,

Balke tumne mujhe,'' He whispered softly.

In a trance he put it her payal in his pocket, next to his diary whilst making a mental note to return it to her as soon as he got the chance...