A Train To Delhi

The train was about to stop at Delhi station. It was a long journey from Odisha to Delhi. That was the last destination. Almost all had got down except me. The noise of the passengers made me wake up from a deep sleep. There was much rush. The crowded station was scattered with some local vendors and railway police. Some of the travellers were arriving and a few were ready to catch their train.

While walking towards the door, my attention moved to a black colour bag in a corner just near my seat. I looked hither and thither but it seemed no one was concerned about this bag. It was fully packed just like some heavy goods are there inside it. My concerned citizenship provoked me to think about something wrong is going to happen. Because the place, locality, and the news these days on terrorism have spread over everyone's subconscious mind.

I wanted to inquire about the bag. From afar, I tried to notice that bag properly. Bomb blasts, terrorism, and war incidents have every time pulled me back for not touching the bag. There would be some harmful things that might cause destruction. Again, I saw outside from the door. I saw some mysterious eyes staring at me. I was frightened. I need to inform the police otherwise it would be too late and everything will be finished in a while.

It was 14th August. Delhi was preparing for its tricolour look. Everywhere was full of security for the next day. I was looking outside for someone to help me but then I realized I should handle this issue by myself. After a few minutes, an old man rushingly entered the compartment. His attire, long white beard, and a white cap on his head confirmed that he is a Muslim. He started searching for something. As I was the only person there, I could sense his trouble. My doubt and curiosity touched their peak. I had no other way to confirm my worry.

I inquired him about his longing. I also helped him to search his bag. I was curious to know what is inside and I asked about it. That old man was so worried and didn't bother about my question. He started checking it and finally found his bag. When he opened the bag, I saw the bag is packed with our national flags. My doubts made me embarrassed about my thoughts. I felt ashamed. 

He thanked me for my help and told me that he is a shopkeeper who will sell these flags today and tomorrow. His bag was misplaced. His face looked so cheerful as he found his bag. Unknowingly I spoke out "Jai Hind". I had arrived at the station and thought to myself that, "every Muslim is not a terrorist". I feel glorious for living in such a beautiful country.