Those killer eyes

It was one of those late August afternoons  in Chennai when you don’t feel like doing anything except sit lazily not sure whether one is awake or asleep, when he came running. Dressed in formals as if the tie was suffocating, he looked very tensed and with a file in one hand, ran fast and got it into the compartment.

He shifted the file to the other hand and with a triumphant smile as if he has already cleared the interview he was going to attend in an hour, he took out a white kerchief from, his trousers pocket and wiped the swept off his forehead. ‘Has my shirt got crumpled?’ his look at the shirt seemed to ask.

Then adjusting his belt, when he looked up, he saw her and smiled – a smile only a pretty girl can bring at the first sight. As if sparks flew at the first glance, his face brightened.

What is he thinking? Planning how to approach her? He would just go and ask if he could sit in front her. And then, when she smiles, he would take out the call letter and ask her to give him directions to the office.

But suddenly, sensing another pair of eyes, he looked at my direction. Embarrassed, he turned away, as I did not know whether to smile at him or react as if he I never saw him.

And like the old Solidaire TV which took a few moments to go blank from the white screen when switched off, his smile slowly turned into uneasiness as he realized that it was not just me and her looking at him.

By the time he took out the kerchief again, this time in a hurry that his file slipped and he had to balance himself, the shirt was drenched in sweat and his eyes filled with horror.

‘Why are they looking at me like this?’

By now the train was moving fast and had pulled out of the station. Can’t even jump out now, he must be thinking, his looks said.

When he was in ninth class, he had torn his friend’s dress while playing. As a punishment, the teachers removed his shirt and made him stand in the corridor during lunch hour. He always thought that his most embarrassing moment in life.

This was getting worse than that.

By now, everyone in the compartment, including the seven-year-old boy selling nuts, was gazing at him. But he did not have anywhere to see,  except perhaps the fan above him or the ground. But the fan sounded like laughing at him and the ground giving a crack between his legs.

Will he survive if he jumps out? NO, he seems to be a very sensible man to try something so stupid. But he also seems equally sensitive.

As if in a flash, he moved to the door on the other side and looked out. No.. nothing is visible, so again, unable to stand at one spot, he rushed back to the earlier door, and holding on to the pole stared what lay ahead.

Ah, finally the station is visible. But it is at least a kilometer away and he had nowhere else to go. Worse, what can one do when more than a fifty pairs of piercing eyes are fixed on him — some smiling, some angry and others totally embarrassed but not willing to miss the action.

As if unable to bear this, he shot an accusing look at me. Eyes full red. I was sitting in the other end of the compartment. In a corner. He must have seen me while getting in, because I was looking at him as he was running.

Will he beat me up, if I were near him? The very thought made me shudder and I buried my face in a book.

Finally, as the train moved into the station, he was already hanging in the air, just with one foot inside the train. And suddenly jumped out.

Ahhh! Kadavule! Ayyyo..  a  sudden gasp in the whole compartment and everyone rose to peep out if what happened to him.

But he was nowhere to be seen. Where has he gone, everyone started asking each other, for they were waiting for this moment from the time they saw him.

He must have leapt into the general compartment immediately. I know. Before getting first class season ticket,  even I have entered ladies section several times .