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  • Writer's pictureSharmeen Zariwala

This Story is Hidden

I ran to catch my train. I almost missed it by a second, this can be a great story to tell my friends. I thought. But was it?

Sitting across me is an aunty in her cotton blue saree with a bundle of files, I wonder what her story is? Did she wake up and feel happy after seeing the faces of her children, was she frustrated when the milk spilled under her watch? What did she do? She might also have some stories to tell. I wonder what story she has

Beside her, sat in a khaki dress with long curly hair tied in a bun, a young woman. Although young, we shouldn't consider her a weak opponent. I wonder what story she has? Has she retaliated with her mother-in-law for demanding dowry? Or has she chosen not to marry because of dowry? I wonder what story she has.

I was engrossed in my thoughts when the train halted at the next station, I peeked through the window. Several men and women were waiting at the platform, ready to pounce on the train compartment and grab the grand window seat. What are their stories I wonder?

After a few minutes, a grandmother sat next to me. I started having a conversation with her as I saw her visibly anxious because of the crowd. Surprisingly, I couldn't even think of the stories she had. She told me tales of her young life, her summer love, her marriage, her son, and his son. She took a deep breath while concluding.


I asked the grandmother why she trusted a stranger like me. She told me all her life, she beaded stories like pieces of the necklace. All her life, she was wearing the right neck aura for the necklace. She never found one. Until now. She ambiguously gave me the necklace, the necklace with pearls of wisdom, because she thought I had the aura. Maybe she knew that I was hungry for stories, but how?

After taking a deep sigh, she vanished into mists. All of a sudden, everything came back to normal, my trance was broken, the grandmother wasn't beside me anymore. She vanished. And oh, I missed my stop. But on my neck, there lay a cute pearl necklace gifted by the grandmother.

On the next stop, a young girl sat opposite to me, she was gazing at me with a look. The same look that I have when I wonder what story she has. But maybe some stories are better hidden.


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