Aditya Singh, L&T MHPS

Sitting in my room, surfing through my Insta feed, I just liked the old school photo shared by a school friend. Yes, I felt nostalgic and altogether alone too. The music in the headphones ensured the mood to stay. And when my flatmate called me for a stroll outside, I was too obsessed with my solitude.

On his insistence, the next day I went to visit a historical place. I was quite good to click a lot of photos upon reaching the place. Later my friend enquired if I had watched the somber lake. I was remorseful for missing an opportunity to get me clicked there.

Anyways putting aside the regrets, we went for lunch at the famous restaurant. And as the waiter served the lunch, the first thing I did was to put it up as my Insta story. The food was not so tasty but its astounding pictures made up for the taste.

Even after doing all the efforts that I could, I was not feeling better. So I thought of paying a visit to home. Ready for the overnight journey, as I approached the station, I observed people with bowed shoulders and eyes on their cellphones. And I kept on wondering if no one taught them to move with their shoulders raised and heads high or if they have lost something in their lives. My sense of keen observation got disturbed by the Whatsapp message to which I was swift to reply.

After boarding the train, I was quite busy to do different kinds of stuff. It seemed there was strange silence in the coach. Everything was going just before my cellphone, tired of all the hard work that I had made it to do, got dead. It seemed as if someone very important for me had abandoned me to face the whole universe alone.

Cursing me time and again, I thought of the things that I used to do when I didn’t have that good friend of mine. No sooner did I think than I looked outside the window. The outnumbered light bulbs by darkness in the farms that were still visible, the outstation walls that had multiple names depicting various stories, the railway bridge that stood there all those years bearing the load of the thankless travellers, the signal man standing in eeriness waving the green flag on the not yet digitalised crossing, the hustle and bustle at the intermediate railway station as the train stopped, people running to board the train caring for no one but the time.

As I brought my focus inside the train compartment, I realised that there was no more silence inside the compartment, everything had something to say – some tales of pain, happiness, joy, sorrow and the stories that had no meaning but still they were simple beautiful stories that needed to be said. I then realised that I was no more deaf to all those beautiful tales. I was no more blind to all those live pictures. I felt no more alone. Yes, I was no more hacked.

” Hey, where are you going?” , I asked my fellow passenger.



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