Memories don’t die. Her hands trembled when she got off the train at her hometown. It was four years since she had left her home wailing in the arms of her mother to start a new life. She had promised herself that she will never return.
But her father’s sudden terminal illness had left her with no other option. She had taken the first flight out of Muscat with her three-year old boy. Her hometown was a seven-hour train journey from Kochi airport. She had taken the train that reached her hometown in the evening.
A cold breeze enveloped her as she stepped out on the deserted station at 6 PM. Sunset was still some time away, but the light had started fading. She started walking fast with her boy in tow.
“Rosaline,” she heard a soft voice call her out. It was a familiar voice. In fact, it was the very voice that she did not want to hear. She walked faster to avoid the voice.
“Rosaline,” the voice called again, this time louder. Her heart palpitated faster; her legs shivered. The evening breeze felt colder than it was. Rosaline paced down the road to her home.
“It’s me, Shankar,” the voice said this time. Rosaline did not stop. She did not say anything.
“Why are you giving me a cold shoulder? Stop,” the voice ordered, agitated. She heard some footsteps rushing towards her from behind. She didn’t look back.
“Shankar – don’t follow me,” Rosaline said this time. “I am not going to stop.”
The footsteps turned louder and faster. They were heading towards her.
“But why? I have been waiting for you for four years,” Shankar said.
“There is no point in waiting. It is of no use,” Rosaline said. “Don’t follow me. It’s long over.”
“But we can make a fresh start,” Shankar persisted.
“The sooner you forget me the better it is for you,” she added.
“But I don’t want to forget you,” Shankar shrieked. “I can’t. I have waited for four years. Can’t you give me just ten minutes?”
Rosaline’s heart thawed. Her steps slowed down a wee bit. Her mind went back to more than five years back when she and Shankar made promises to each other. Promises that they could not keep.
Rosaline’s son started crying. “No, baby. We are going home,” she said. The pace came back into her feet. This was no time to wait and look back, she told herself. The past was over.
“Give me just five minutes, Rose,” Shankar pleaded. Rosaline slowed down again.
“Stay behind and say whatever you have to say till I reach home,” she said.
“Our home?” Shankar asked.
“There is no ‘our home’ anymore, Shankar. It was only in our dreams. Don’t keep going there,” Rosaline warned him. “I don’t want to go into the past. This is my present and this is my future,” she pointed to her son.
“But I can take care of him too, Rose. I know about your husband,” Shankar said.
“What do you know? You know nothing. He is a nice man,” Rosaline retorted.
“But he doesn’t treat you well, I know. I know you are all alone in Muscat,” Shankar argued.
“You are wrong. He has a good job. I am fine. This is only your wishful thinking,” Rosaline replied.
“Come with me, Rose. Don’t waste your life. A good job isn’t everything. We will start a fresh life of love together. We still can make it together, away from it all,” Shankar beseeched her earnestly.
“What future do we have? We have no future. You have no future. That’s why my father didn’t agree,” Rosaline said. “And maybe he was right.”
“No, Rosaline. I have got a job in the city. I will take care of you. And your son too,” Shankar said.
“It is of no use now. It is too late,” Rosaline asserted, approaching the last stretch of the road towards her home. “My mother’s house is here. Go away, Shankar,” she said.
“This is our last chance Rosaline. I am taking tomorrow’s evening train to the city. I will wait for you at the station. I know you will come, like old times,” Shankar yelled as he went away.
“I will not come,” Rosaline shouted back, and rang the doorbell of the house.
***
That night after dinner, Rosaline tried to put her son to sleep.
“Who was that uncle you were talking to, Mummy?” she thought she heard her son ask.
“No one, go to sleep,” she said. “Good night,” she patted him.
She switched off the light, pulled over her blanket and tried to sleep. But sleep evaded her.
“Who were you talking to, Mummy? From the station?” her son asked her again after an hour. She turned towards him and started patting him. But the question didn’t go away.
“He was a ghost,” she finally said, with a smile.
“Ghost?” her son asked, enthused and curious.
“Yes, he is a well-known ghost in the village. He follows mummy and baby and asks them to come with him. But if we don’t listen to him, he goes away,” she whispered.
“So I should not listen to him?” the boy asked.
“Yes, you should not. But if you don’t sleep, he comes back,” Rosaline tried to convince her son.
“If I sleep, he will not come back?” the son asked.
“Yes, he won’t. Go to sleep. Otherwise the ghost will come and take us away,” Rosaline said.
“Ok, mummy. Goodnight,” the boy said and clasped her tight, closing his eyes.
“Goodnight. Good boy,” she said and put him off to sleep.
But she herself stayed awake for a while.
Was Shankar right? she wondered. Did they really have a future together? Was it her last chance?
Her thoughts went back to her miserable life in Muscat. She hadn’t told anyone about the wayward, abusive ways of her husband. Not even her own mother knew about her loveless existence. Now, with her ill dying father, there was no way she could trouble them with her predicament. She had to find her own way out. Was this the way out?
She turned from side to side throughout the night. In the cold night, she could feel sweat on her face. Her legs ached with the tension. Her palms were cold. She spent the entire night wide awake.
By the time it was morning, she had made up her mind.
It was time that she stood for herself. There was no point in tolerating her husband anymore. Shankar was willing to take her even with her son. He had also got a job. She was right from the start. Her parents had been wrong. He really did love her. And love is all that matters. For the past four years, she had seen what happens with money without love. She would rather prefer a life of love without money. It was time to choose, again.
In the morning, she got ready early. She hurriedly took her father to the doctor. She did all that was necessary for her father’s health. She got all the medicines, arranged for a facility with a bed and a caregiver, paid everyone in advance, shifted her father, and told her mother what she needed to do.
She waited eagerly for the evening. The evening train to the city left at 7 PM, she knew.
“Does Shiny stay at the same house?” she asked her mother at 6 PM.
“Yes, dear. She has a two-year old now,” her mother replied.
“Oh wow,” Rosaline pretended to be excited. “I will go and see her with Binto,” she said, lifting her baby in her arms. “Don’t wait for me for dinner,” she said.
“Ok, dear,” her mother said. “I am also going out just now for a function,” she added. “I was going to tell you about it and ask you if you wanted to come,” she said. “But I wasn’t sure you would.”
“No, I won’t,” she said. “You carry on. I will leave in a few minutes,” Rosaline said. She didn’t care for any socialising in her hometown. She wasn’t interested in her mother’s functions.
“I will see you later, Mom,” she said when her mother left.
She hugged her mother knowing well that this would be the last time for a long time, perhaps for ever, that she would see her. Her mother was surprised by her intensity but didn’t say anything.
After her mother left, Rosaline went into her room to do the final packing and ensure everything was in order. She was ready to set out with her baby and her bag.
“Where are we going, Mummy?” her son asked her on her way to the station.
“We are going to the train station, baby,” Rosaline replied in an upbeat mood.
“Mummy, what if the ghost comes again?” the boy asked.
Rosaline broke into a loud, thunderous laughter that reverberated in the eerie evening silence.
“We are going with the ghost, baby,” she replied. The boy frowned. “The ghost is a good, friendly ghost who loves mummy and baby,” Rosaline added. The boy smiled and clasped her tightly.
Rosaline looked at the watch. It was almost 7 PM. She hoped that she wasn’t late and rushed.
“Rosaline,” she heard the voice again when she approached the station.
“I knew you would come,” it said.
A wave of happiness spread through her as she saw the evening train waiting at the station. “Let us go away from it all, and make a fresh start,” the voice said, and Rosaline stepped ahead.
Her phone rang at that time. It was her mother. Should she finally tell her? Rosaline thought.
She deserves it, one part of her mind said. Maybe she won’t be able to handle it, another part of her mind said. I should have left a note, she felt for a moment. Eventually, she decided to pick the phone up, one last time.
“Where are you dear?” her mother asked.
“Mom, I don’t know how to tell you. I am going away,” she said.
“Going away? Where dear? You came just yesterday,” the worried mother said.
“Yes, mom. I am done,” she asserted. “I am going back…,” she paused and said, “to Shankar.”
“Shankar? Eh…? No.., No, you can’t do this, dear, listen, wait,” her mother exclaimed in panic. She had just returned from Shankar’s death anniversary function. It had been three years.
The line went dead. The evening train was waiting.
***