My Intense Moments At Coimbatore Railway Station

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I waved goodbye to my friend who was travelling to Chennai in Cheran Express, and I was waiting on the floor between Platform 1 and 2 at Coimbatore Railway station, watching the display board before me for the announcement of Platform number of train bound for Kanyakumari. 

It was around 11:15 PM, and the weather was a bit cold and pleasant due to the heavy downpour an hour ago. A lady in her fifties with two bags of luggage appeared to be confused and perplexed about something came to me hesitantly and asked if I could help her find out on which platform her train would arrive. Her slang and accent suggested she was a Malayali woman. I immediately asked her for the train number, and she took her mobile out and showed me the seat number and PNR number. There was no detail about the train number. I said, “This is not the train number.” She was staring at me with an innocent and ignorant face and asked in her Malayalam minced Tamil, “What to do?”

Pitying her helpless situation, I took out my smartphone and entered the PNR number to get the details. The train number showed as 16381—Kanyakumari Express, the same as the one I am traveling by. With a confident tone, I said, “I am also traveling by the same train, and I will inform you the platform number the next moment it gets displayed on the board before us.”

Although she felt relaxed and relieved at my reply, she was still not sure whether to believe me or not. I tried to convince her but in vain. So she decided to find it out herself by going down to the information center located at the entrance. Meanwhile, she politely asked me if I could watch over her luggage. Quite happy to help a lady in need, I said, “Yes.” She rushed down the stairs frantically, and my tired eyes were eagerly looking at the LED display for the announcement. And in a few seconds, there it came, Platform No. 1.

“Oops, it’s out, this lady could have waited a few seconds more; waste of time going to the information centre, Poor old lady,” I thought. 

In a few moments, a creepy feeling started to emerge from deep down my mind. “What if the luggage had something that can cause terror?” “What if the lady used me?” The whole world stopped in front of me. 

My eyes were scanning the crowd around me: innocent children happily playing with elders, shopkeepers dutifully selling their goods, hawkers shouting at high decibels, “Briyani’ Briyani,” a father kissing his son on the forehead before sending off, and ticket-checking officials casually walking across platforms. All my frozen mind could think was, “Are we all gonna die in a few seconds?” 

“What does the luggage have? Is it what they call RDX? Will the explosion be massive? “Will I be able to save myself if I run a few meters away? Should I lift the luggage and check? No, what if it bursts out immediately? How will the fire come out of the bag? What will be the range of impact? Did the lady carry the remote control device with her to trigger it after she reached a safe position? How long will she take to pull the trigger? The lively atmosphere of this place is going to turn upside down with people panicking and rushing to the exit, and I’m not going to be alive to witness it. Should I alert someone about the luggage? What if nothing is in there, and the lady appears in a few moments?” a flurry of thoughts overwhelmed my mind. 

My cognizant mind suggested that there were no traces of a wicked or sinister nature on the lady’s face. But my mind still refused to believe it. With each passing microsecond, my heartbeat began to rise uncontrollably. Instinctively, I slowly started to move away from the carelessly placed luggage as I decided against alerting anyone. I thought of hiding behind a shop so that I could escape with minor injuries. 

Just when I was about to take the next step, there she appeared like an angel signaling No. 1 with her index finger. My heart erupted in joy, and the uneasy thoughts that clouded my mind started vanishing instantly. I raised my index finger and said with a relieved and joyful face, yes “No.1”. My lucid mind said, “Thanks for not being a terrorist.” 

Later, she thanked me profusely and bought me a cup of coffee. I helped her board the train and headed to my compartment. 

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