Fiction Five00-7 Tragedy

“Purple au revoir”

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I would never forget the color of her saree. Vibrant blue. The same blue that burst forth from her marble like eyes. But, no. I hadn’t fallen for her eyes, but for her mind and her heart. She had both of them in the right place. And I am not saying this because I loved her, or she loved me, but because she is the wittiest and kindest person I have ever known personally. 

That was her last day at work and that was the last time I saw her, in that gorgeous blue saree. 

Phone number, social media, common friends, nothing could help me find her again. I was lost and angry because I believed I deserved an explanation, if not anything more. I thought I could never forgive her.

It took me about three years, but I finally brought myself to terms with ‘moving on’. 

And I literally moved. From Delhi to Mumbai. Away from all the haunting memories, the office, and all the places which had come to bite me after she was gone. 

And there she was. Right in front of me. Once again. Only a few meters away. 

The madness of the overcrowded train station suddenly vanished and all the surrounding noises turned mute. Before I could give her a shout or figure out if it was happening for real or I was hallucinating, overwhelmed with the transition, the train arrived. She ran towards the ladies coach. I boarded the men’s, right next to hers. 

What happened a few minutes later, is by far the most frightening thing that has ever happened to me. 

There was a first blast and then ten seconds later, a second explosion. 

One general coach somewhere in the back and the adjacent first class ladies coach were completely ripped apart. A minute or two later, there was a lot of smoke and a plasticky smell. It became increasingly hot and difficult to breathe. I felt numb and nauseated.

I saw bodies everywhere. Some with no heads, some with no legs. A woman’s abdomen was blown open, with her intestines falling out. Next to her was a girl whose body was shaking vigorously. There were broken pieces of glass, chunks of the train seats and doors, scattered all over. So were the human body parts. 

There was a woman who kept going back and forth. She tightly held her baby and was screaming, “Where is my baby?” I told her that her baby was in her arms but she said she had another one that she was not able to find.

I had never seen so much blood before. My head was spinning. I thought I was hurt too.

I turned around and I saw the police pulling away a body. I hoped she was just injured and not dead. I saw her saree. It had turned purple, or that color you get when you mix blue with red, you know! I would never forget the color of her saree.

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Photo By: Abigail J Thompson

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This is an entry for Five00-7, a writing event hosted by ArtoonsInn. Check out the event prompt and guidelines here: https://writers.artoonsinn.com/five00-7/

Use the tracker to record your rulfy progress: https://1drv.ms/x/s!ApiLwn00sMcLgw25_MChxGCrua9_

Dusk bade Farewell
The Drunkard

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