It was pretty late in the evening
When the train chugged into the station,
Abhinav was then having his coffee
And watching how the rain and mist created a translucent curtain outside,
He thought he heard the gong of a grand clock announcing time,

Just then he noticed two figures
Drenched to skin, each other tightly
It had been wonderous to witness
Such a poetically eloquent scene
Unfolding before his eyes,
Water dripping down the glass of the window made outside blurry,
But that slight indistinctiveness had its own expression -
An expression which could oft be found in slides of photos
Or in cinematic frames,
Abhinav was reminded of different allusions
Like passages he had read in novellas,
Like songs he had heard in his youth with earnest heart and keen ears,
Like paintings he had dreamt of conceiving,

He was reminded of a woman too,

A woman who had once made him to
Kneel right on a platform one rainy evening,
Right before her.


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