Recap: Every day, Jayanthan’s train rumbled into Poongudi, gateway to Trichy. Jyoti, a vibrant food vendor, stole his heart with each stop. But love faced challenges – her brother, his job loss – dimming their hopeful spark.

Part 3: Final whistle

Chapter 22/26: Unshed Tears

The office phone buzzed, interrupting my walk back from lunch. The receptionist, staring down at a notebook, mumbled, “Jayanthan, someone called you…” My heart lurched. This is strange. Only my parents and Mrs. Mangalam have this number, and I’m always the one calling them. Why are they calling me now? “Who?”

He scanned his call record again. “Jyoti,” he repeated, more to the notebook than me. Curiosity bothered me. “When? Did she leave a message? What number can I call back?”. He intercepted me, a strange glint in his eyes “wait. wait. One by one, please. But no message.” With a disappointment ballooning in my mind, I asked him to get her number, if she called back and I was not around.

“I’m not your personal switchboard operator,” he grumbled before flashing a grin. “Just kidding, man. Will do.”

Few minutes later, the lobby intercom crackled to life. “Jayanthan?” I raced to answer. “Jyoti?”

The landline phone felt scorching against my ear. Mrs. Mangalam’s voice, laced with panic, scratched through the line. “Jayanthan, it’s Mangalam! I know you’re probably busy at work, but can you come here right away? I think this is important.” My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat echoing in the suburban night’s stillness.

“Amma, what’s wrong? it seems Jyoti called me. I missed it.”

“I know, she called me too. But we can talk in person.”

I sprinted to catch the train. The journey, once a symbol of shared moments, now felt like a cruel twist of fate, keeping us apart when we needed each other most. Sleep was a stranger, chased away by a relentless barrage of anxieties and terrifying possibilities.

Jyoti. Her name echoed in my mind, each syllable a silent plea. The girl whose laughter filled train rides, the girl whose eyes held the promise of a future we dreamt of together, the girl whose hand is to be captured, before she drowns – she was in danger. Panic choked me, leaving me breathless.

During our conversation, I hesitantly confessed my secret trips to Poongudi. I blurted out my fear that Jyoti might already be married.

“I already knew, dear. Don’t worry about it. But Jayanthan, you really need to learn who you can confide in and who might not have your best interests at heart.” she said, her voice devoid of anger.

Shame washed over me for keeping her in the dark. “Your visit changed things for both of you,” she sighed. “We can’t control everything. Whatever happens, it has a reason,” she consoled herself. Did she know already? How could she? I never got a chance to ask. But with the urgency hanging in the air, a full conversation would have been a luxury.

Morning arrived, slow and agonizing. As the Cauvery bridge came into view, a short distance from Trichy station, my heart pounded.

Trichy station, usually bustling with steaming tea vendors shouting “Tea! Kaapi! Tea! Kaapi!” and chattering crowds, now felt cold and sterile. The morning sun, normally painting the platform in a warm glow, cast harsh, unsettling rays. Ahmed and Rajan, my usual train station buddies, stood silent, worry engraved on their faces. Their hurried waves did little to ease the gnawing fear in my stomach.

Mrs. Mangalam and her lawyer husband, Keerthivasan, waited by a van, their faces etched with grim determination. His presence, a stark reminder of the battle ahead, only amplified the weight of the situation.

Sliding into the van, the familiar creak of the door brought no comfort. The engine’s usual reassuring rumble was replaced by a deafening silence.

“Her family, her brother specifically, is forcing her into marriage. The groom’s side is arriving today at ten to finalize the date. She wanted me to do something.” Mrs. Mangalam explained, her voice sounded unpleasant.

The words slammed into me. what? So, the market guy lied and mocked me, as I guessed. In a corner, I felt happy because the door is still open. At the same time, she was about to be taken away in few hours, how to prevent it? Panic clawed at my throat, leaving me breathless.

Sensing it, Keerthivasan said “We have a plan, Jayanthan,” his usually cheerful voice was somber. His gaze fixed on me. “It’s a bit risky, but don’t worry.”

His words echoed in the silence, each syllable pounding against my already fractured heart. A plan? Risky? My mind, reeling from the month’s events, struggled to grasp the next step.

“Do not threaten him”, Mrs Mangalam came in. “Everything will be all right” she pacified me.

“We have to get there before them,” Keerthivasan’s voice cut through my fog.

(To be continued)

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