A strange experience in a Mumbai local

I boarded the 10.25 pm Borivali slow train. In hindsight, it was a mistake to have got into an empty compartment. Anyway I wanted to lounge leisurely on the cushioned first class bench and watch an episode of modern family on my laptop. So I threw caution to the wind and got into
the compartment. The train was an old model, with little to no ventilation. I threw open the train doors and took a seat. I scanned the compartment for rats, nothing prowled below the seats. I was completely alone.

The train crawled towards Borivali. Till Andheri, thereabouts there were people on the station platform. After Andheri, the platforms were deserted. A few people slept below the bridge, but by and large, the stations were empty. I kept my laptop away and extracted my cell phone. I browsed through news feed. The first write up was about the elections, followed by Aalia Bhat's nutrition chart, then details of a recent rape case. I shut the chrome browser and called up my boyfriend. I told him I was returning home in an empty train. I made sure I stressed on the word empty. He suggested we keep talking till I reach Borivali. The train staggered past Goregaon and was crawling towards Malad. I told him over the phone that I could run faster than the train. We laughed over this; I was a very slow runner.

At Malad, a woman got into the compartment. She was tall, dusky and was clad in a worn out brown salwar. Her hair was pitch black and matted; her slippers were almost giving way. I surmised by the look of it that she didn't hold a first class pass. I needed company, so I let go of the thought. I told my boyfriend I wasn't alone in the compartment, but he insisted that we keep talking. The train cruised towards Kandivali. It had begun to pick up speed. I looked at the woman, who had taken seat at the other end of the compartment. She was staring right at me in a queer sort of way. Her eyes were dark and lifeless. She rose and took a few steps towards me, I grabbed my laptop, and I wasn't sure whether I would have to tackle her or to fling it at her. But she turned towards the door instead of coming at me. She stood at the edge of the floorboard, precariously hanging at the ledge of the door. "I'm really scared" I stammered into the mouthpiece of my phone. My boyfriend's voice rose with panic, he urged me to keep talking. The woman was sobbing at the door; the wind plastered her tears to her face. "Don't jump" I said to her. "Don't jump don't jump"
But she paid no heed; she leaped out, and disappeared into the darkness.

I was transfixed, I had started to cry. My boyfriend's voice turned hazy and then the network gave way. I kept dialing his number; it said call failed…call failed!

I sat dumbfounded, what was I to do? Was I to pull the chain? What good would that do, the train would stop in the middle of nowhere. I decided to lodge a complaint at Borivali, tell them that a woman had leaped to her death between Malad and Kandivali. I would wait till Borivali. I kept dialing my boyfriend; the network played spoil sport. Whatsapp wasn't functioning, my phone want picking up a signal either. To make matters worse, the lights flickered off and I sat in complete darkness. I began to shout and scream for help. My cries may have crossed the metal dividers because I heard voices at the other end; someone asked "what is happening?"

The lights returned and a new sort of courage gripped me. It's funny, the strength one can draw from light. The train was slowing down, we were approaching Kandivali. I regained my voice and senses. I sat up, wiped away my tears and assessed the situation. I would have to inform the railway authorities, somewhere between Malad and Kandivali, on the tracks, was a body. What if she was alive? Writhing in pain? A sick feeling gripped my insides. How much time before I could get help across to her?
Kandivali platform drew up besides the train and I spotted a few solitary figures on the platform. My eyes welled up again. I was sobbing and making incomprehensible sounds like a child

Her face lingered in my memory. Images of her sobbing besides the doorframe kept flashing through my mind.

As the train slowed down, I raised my head and tried to calm my rattled nerves. The train eventually halted and my phone began to vibrate on my lap. Somehow I couldn’t bring myself to pick up the phone, because as the train started with a jerk, a woman entered the compartment. She had matted hair, worn out shoes and the same lifeless eyes.