The Goregaon Girl | The Scribbled Writings

Gasping for my breath with a huge rucksack on my back, I board the train. I look at my watch and the ticket on the other hand. The watch ticked 12:45 pm and the time of departure on my ticket said 12:40 pm. I felt lucky to have made it in the nick of time and thanked Indian Railways for giving me that crucial five minutes. Steering myself amongst the crowd, I settle in the seat of my coach S8-20.

Heaving a sigh of relief and satisfaction of boarding the train, I run my eyes over the hundred heads and their two hundred legs who walk across the platform aimlessly battling to reach their destination.

Suddenly, amidst the reckless crowd, my eyes come across a girl. She seems like she’s 7 years old. Quietly fiddling with her hair and her hands rubbing the eyes. As I try to look more keenly at her actions, with the frown lines on my temple, I find her in a flood of tears. My eyes cringe trying to find the reason behind her tears.

Is she alone? Is she a beggar? Is she lost? Is she an escapee from a human trafficking cult? My mind becomes an arsenal and bombards a thousand questions. At the same time eagerly waiting for an answer.

Should I help her? Should I get down of the train and try to know more about her? The more I think about her, the heavier my heart beats. No sooner can I pacify my mind from these thoughts, the train honks, inferring its departure. Goosebumps! That honk made me freeze at the moment. I feel myself in the state of tinnitus.

Did I jump off the train? Did I save the girl? Or did I ignore the situation and stay put on my seat?

What next?

Goregaon Girl - 2


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