Train Journey

 Ever since I embarked on my very first train journey, I have been spellbound by the enchantment of travelling. There is an ineffable rejuvenating quality to the experience that uplifts one's soul. As a budding artist in the film industry, my work necessitates constant mobility, giving me daily opportunities to connect with new individuals and gain invaluable insights and understanding of our world. However, the gratification from work is intermittent. Ask any junior artist struggling to make ends meet, and they will express a singular ambition – the desire to achieve stardom in the acting realm. Until that aspiration is pursued, they persist in unwavering determination. Returning to the subject of train journeys, they have provided me with an invaluable opportunity to observe and comprehend diverse individuals. This skill set will undoubtedly serve me well in the future as a successful actor. On these journeys, I have encountered a myriad of individuals – from free-spirited vagabonds and young romantics to single parents, those battling addiction, and people facing homelessness. It was during one such journey that I first crossed paths with Neha.

It was a cold winter day, December 9, 2015, when I sat alone on the train returning from a three-day shoot. Lost in my thoughts, I was surprised when the woman next to me tapped my shoulder. I had not even noticed her until then. What stood out the most was the sheer panic in her eyes as she leaned in closer to me, a sight that immediately stirred my empathy and concern.

"Hi," I said, feeling a bit uneasy. It was unusual for me to feel this way, as I usually enjoy engaging with strangers. However, something about the panic in her eyes made me feel a sense of unease I couldn't quite shake off.

"Help me," she whispered. I wasn't sure how to respond. As I observed her more closely, I noticed she wore a red top and torn jeans. It took me a moment to realize that her torn jeans were not a fashion statement; they were torn apart by some nasty men who had tried to take advantage of her. I could see the sweat dripping from her forehead, and she was panting, which made me realize that this was not some lame joke played by my friends, but this lady was in some danger. Being a 50 Kg malnourished man that I am, I am not really good with confrontations, so I wasn't exactly sure how to handle this. 

I looked around to ensure no one followed her, and the whole compartment was empty.

"You are safe now, hon! Do you need some water?"

She ignored my attempt to engage with her and grabbed the bottle from my hand, eagerly drinking from it. I observed her closely, noticing the fear in her eyes. I couldn't comprehend why she would feel safe with me. It occurred to me that my appearance led her to believe I wasn't a threat.

I whispered softly, trying to soothe her trembling form with gentle words. "Try to relax. Take some slow, deep breaths. Everything will be alright." The weight of the situation pressed down on me, and I struggled to find the right words to comfort her. I had never been confronted with something so intense before, and I felt a deep sense of responsibility to protect her from any further harm.

" I am hungry."

I offered her the food I had brought for my journey. After she finished eating, she smiled at me for the first time. Instead of asking her about what had happened or how she got into this predicament, I started talking to her about my career and how I make a living to make her feel at ease.

" Wow, So you are an actor?"

 " More like a struggling one, but I still have my moments."

" My elder sister wanted to be an actress, too, and she was good at it. She had long hair and a beautiful smile, and everything was going for her."

"Sorry I have been insulting; I am Hrithik"When she spoke to me in the past tense about her sister, I realized that something terrible had happened to her. I felt like pouring salt on her wounds and causing her more pain. My sole intention in having this conversation with her was to comfort her and help her through whatever had happened.So I decided to change the subject myself.

" I am Neha, thanks for helping me with food "

Looking at her, I noticed how young she was, just a few years older than my sister. It troubled me deeply that a 13-year-old girl was travelling alone in a country like India, where the statistics for sexual violence against women were so alarming.

" Do you like to read? I got some books you might like."

" yes, I do. Which one you got."

"How about Christmas Carol?"

" Is it a good one?"

I handed the book to her and suggested, "Why don't you read it yourself and find out?" As she took the book, I noticed her becoming increasingly at ease in my presence, and it seemed clear that she was starting to feel more relaxed. I decided to inform the guards about the girl at the next stop. The situation seemed beyond my capabilities, and it seemed more appropriate for the professionals to handle it.

I found myself wishing that I were a better writer. If only my imagination were sharper, I could have transformed this into an incredible story. Picture this: a gripping tale featuring a young girl trapped on a train, fleeing from a truly terrifying threat, only to be rescued by a heroic figure. But this hero wouldn't be just any character – he would be a towering, muscular man, ready to confront any villain. Perhaps I do possess some storytelling talent! If my dreams of becoming an actor don't pan out, I should seriously consider exploring writing as another creative outlet.

 " He is here"  her words ran a shiver run through my spines, Whoever has done this  hasd came back for her."Calm yourself, Hrithik. You got this. Its time to be the hero of your own story," I told myself.

Her plea, "Please don't call the police," caught me off guard, as if she had somehow read my thoughts. At that moment, I realized that my abilities were limited. I didn't possess any special skills or quick thinking to outsmart whoever had harmed her. A sense of foreboding washed over me as I grappled with the daunting reality that the perpetrator might come after me next. The uncertainty of how to handle the situation weighed heavily on my mind.

The dimly lit room created an atmosphere of hushed tension, only to be shattered by the unmistakable sound of heavy, deliberate footsteps drawing closer. I slowly turned to find her standing there, her eyes filled with a desperate hope that tugged at my heartstrings. It struck me deeply that she had placed her trust in me at this crucial moment. Despite the likely presence of a burly, towering figure to aid her, she had chosen to seek assistance from a 5-foot-1-inch man grappling with severe asthma.

Without so much as a second thought, I gestured urgently for her to ascend the nearby shelf gingerly, her figure blending into the shadows between the towering storage bags. With the little space I could muster, I sought to provide fleeting cover with my belongings. As my eyes quickly scanned the room, a symphony of fear and anticipation crescendoed in my chest, the rhythm of my pounding heart orchestrating an ominous symphony in the tense atmosphere.

As I ventured through the poorly lit alley, a towering and imposing figure came into view, seemingly emerging from the shadows. His muscular build and thick, unruly beard exuded an unsettling sense of menace, causing a visceral reaction that sent shivers racing down my spine. As he passed by, I found myself transfixed, unable to tear my gaze away. Before I could even muster a breath, he pivoted abruptly, his piercing eyes locking onto mine in an unrelenting stare. His gaze penetrated through my sweat-drenched and quivering form, peeling away the layers of my being to uncover hidden truths. I could almost feel the weight of his intense scrutiny as it seemed to bore through the very fabric of my existence.

Seemingly satisfied with his silent interrogation, he slowly settled by my side, his intense gaze never leaving me. His eyes held an unsettling madness, causing a chill to run down my spine. Despite my overwhelming urge to flee, I was gripped by a paralyzing sense of fear that rendered me immobile. It was as if I had been entangled in a painting, a masterpiece created by a maestro, incapable of moving or breaking free from its confines.

Deep down, I knew he had discerned my connection to the girl, an understanding that sent shivers through my already trembling frame. He sat right next to me; even though I didn't dare to look at him, I could sense him staring at me. 

"May I see your phone?" His deep voice reverberated through the desolate train compartment, sending shivers down my spine. Gripped by fear, I reluctantly handed over my phone. To my surprise, he didn't bother to inspect the device; instead, he callously flung it out of the train window. As it disappeared into the night, I realized the gravity of my situation. Stranded without my only means of communication, I knew that the next train stop was at least an hour away, leaving me in a state of helplessness. The rhythmic chug of the train and the distant clatter of the tracks outside felt like a cruel reminder of my isolation. In that moment, time seemed to stretch endlessly, amplifying the desperation of my predicament.

In a moment of sheer desperation, I reached for my wallet and surrendered the meagre amount of cash I had left. The girl's safety was no longer my primary concern; I was'nt trying to be a hero anymore all I could think about was my own well-being. I was acutely aware of my physical limitations – I lacked the strength to overpower him, and my asthma left me unable to outpace him. With no other recourse, I attempted to bribe him with the last of my money. To my surprise, he gently grasped my hand and pressed his lips against it instead of accepting the cash.

I pulled my hand back with a sudden jolt of adrenaline, my heart racing as I felt an unexplainable inner strength coursing through my veins. As I turned around, I braced myself and exerted all my might to push him back, but to my astonishment, he stood firm, a sly grin slowly spreading across his face. At that moment, I felt like a deer trapped in front of a menacing lion, desperately fighting for survival.

"Don't struggle. It's only going to make it worse for you. We are going to make you our sandwich." For a moment, I couldn't believe what I was hearing. It wasn't the giant man who said those words, but the little girl. I was trying my best to hide, risking my own life. How could she be working with him? Is she his daughter? Even if she is, why would a daughter pimp for her own father?

 

"I am not a little kid. I am a 30-year-old woman who suffers from dwarfism. We were the hunters, and you fell into our trap. Don't try to fight it. Today, you belong to me. Cooperate, and you will survive another day," 

"Why me? I was only trying to help you!"

 "Why not you? You were the perfect prayer for us, weak and pathetic, always looking for someone else's assurance to make a decision. I know the type you fit in with, and you have all the qualities that Neha looks for in a man. What Neha likes, Neha  eats, but only the leftovers of what my friend here leaves me with ."

" Please don't do this. I promise not to tell anyone about it."

"Don't worry, after we are done with you! You can read your Christmas Carol and make yourself feel better."

  The giant man started unbuttoning my pants. As he rubbed his lips through my thighs, after an initial phase of brain freeze, I slowly came to the senses of what was happening. I tried to struggle; Neha held my hands; I pitied myself for not having enough strength to overpower a dwarf! I closed my eyes and began softly reciting the ancient mantras my mother had patiently taught me during childhood. I could feel the weight of each word as it reverberated through my soul, and I struggled to maintain composure, desperately trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill from my eyes. I knew it was over me; this is it, this is how I was going to die.