Refugees of the Road.

आते जाते खूबसूरत आवारा सडकों पे
कभी कभी इत्तेफाक से
कितने अनजान लोग मिल जाते हैं
उन में से कुछ लोग भूल जाते हैं
कुछ याद रह जाते हैं |

While travelling through these beautiful yet nomadic roads,
Sometimes coincidentally we meet some strangers...
Some, we tend to forget, but there are some who leave an indelible mark in our lives....

These words by Anand Bakshi, beautifully sung by Kishore da talk of a profound truth of life. Of life's endless journeys. And how we meet interesting people along the way. No, they are not friends, neither are they acquaintances. But they become an important part of you life.

I have been travelling on the life-line of Mumbai everyday for about a month now. Everyday has been a new experience for me. Everyday I see new faces. Everyday a maddening rush. A peerless fury. A screeching cacophony.

In all this randomness, I have been lucky to discover a pattern. A face. A Person. Who boards the train nearly same time everyday. In the same compartment. And stands right infront of me. An occasional glance, a shared smile. This is all that is exchanged. But still the face remains what it is. A face. Probably in his late 50s. I don't know the name of the person. Neither do I know his destination.  Everyday upon reaching the platform, I look for this familiar face in the crowd. And am relieved upon finding him. And this has become a routine for every day of the week. But its nothing less than a miracle. In times when it takes years or even lives to become familiar to someone, an unique friendship germinating without words, which is something that words would never be able to explain. Infact, words would take away the sanctity of the moment.

But today, as I rushed to the station to catch the Andheri 0851 Slow, I didnot find this face. Looked out for some time. Probably I was late. Probably he was. Probably he took a leave from work. Many possibilities ran through my mind till the train arrived. And my day went on. With a blip. With a glitch. But not without hopes of tomorrow. Hopes of a familiar tomorrow.