26 January 2021

Platform 2

Mumbai Central Station

As the smell of salty seawater overpowered her olfactory faculties, Gauri knew that her final destination was only minutes away. Burdened with the stress and nervousness of the last few hours, coupled with a sense of nostalgia and relief on being home after more than a decade, Gauri began to laugh and cry simultaneously. If people in the train found it odd, they kept their opinions to themselves. As the train screeched to a halt, and the humdrum of chaos ensued with porters boarding the train to remove luggage and people jumping off to hug their loved ones from both sides of the compartment, Gauri took a moment to sit comfortably for the first time on a fairly empty seat, taking some deep breaths to calm her racing heart. Now that she was here, she wasn't sure anymore. Had she done the right thing? Her thoughts were interrupted by Banerjee, who had apparently been walking through the vestibule, looking for her for the last hour.

"Ma'am?"

She looked at him. The moment of vulnerability was over. Schooling her looks and picking up her bag, she made her way out.

*****

As she stepped out of the train and came face to face with a Mumbai Police constable - reality hit hard. She was a rising star in the legal field who was currently being hunted by Delhi Police. In the 19 hours she'd spent on the train, she had debated a myriad scenarios. Would the police be waiting at the train station to welcome her with a pair of handcuffs? Would they even be looking for her? Was she famous throughout the country by now, with news channels broadcasting pictures of her and Banerjee, labelling them as wanted criminals?

She was certain, Arjun would have pulled no stops in ensuring that both Gauri and Banerjee were trending celebrities on the Inter-State Police Communication Network - a system used by all police departments across the country to track fugitives. And given her lack of sleep, and experience, she didn't trust her acting skills to be on par.

She need not have worried. They had landed in Mumbai on January 26, India's Republic Day. All of Mumbai Police was on security duty to maintain law and order while urging people to celebrate the occasion peacefully. While there was additional security at the station, she quickly realized that no one was looking for her. Yet.

Gauri looked around the station. On the other side of the pony wall, she could see small children laughing, buying a tricolour from a street vendor, a small girl asking her father to buy her a paper windmill in the tricolour, women adorned in saris with orange, white and green hues, young girls decking their arms with glass bangles in those same colours. She breathed a deep breath, taking in the celebratory spirit, which was in complete contrast to how she felt at the moment.

A gentle hand on her shoulder, and she knew Banerjee was urging her to move on, and not linger around lest they cause suspicion.

*****

"Mumba Devi Temple", she urged the cab driver, who had grudgingly accepted the passenger. He looked at Banerjee and her, and turned the meter down.

"Is this your first time in Mumbai," he asked convivially, while trying to navigate the road closures and pedestrian traffic to drive a distance that should ordinarily take no more than 10 minutes.

Gauri nodded, while Banerjee shook his head. Then to cover up the faux pas, Banerjee offered a vague explanation about Gauri being born in Mumbai and living here until she was six months old. The cab driver didnt care. 40 minutes, and a few curse words later, he dropped the couple off at the temple.

"We call her Aai," he told them. "She is our mother. She takes care of all her children. She will ensure that whatever work you've come to Mumbai for, will be a huge success."

Banerjee paid the driver and thanked him. By the time he turned, Gauri was already climbing the steps of the temple.

*****

The City of Mumbai derived its name from Mumbadevi, the patron Goddess of the City, who, it is believed, protects the City and its inhabitants like a mother would.

As Gauri stood in front of the idol, she was reminded of the story her Baba often told her. About how Mumba Aai had protected infant Gauri by landing her in her Baba's lap. Her Baba had named her after the Goddess who had protected her like a mother.

It was one of Gauri's favourite stories, one she had often asked her Baba to tell her. It allowed her to have faith, because since her Baba had passed away, so little in her life had provided her with that comfort.

The temple bells began to ring as the priest picked up the decked plated lamp to perform the aarti - a ritualistic veneration of the deity. Worshipers picked their spot either to ring bells as the veneration happened or joined their hands in blissful devotion, praying to the deity for fulfillment of their wishes. As Gauri stood in front of Mumba Devi, her hands joined, she felt enveloped in a strange kind of warmth, a feeling of peace settling over her. It felt like a hug from a mother. She walked closer to the idol and bent her head down to seek blessings, just as her eyes began tearing up. She extended her hand for the prasad, revered it by touching it to her eyes, and placed the sweet in her mouth. And having found an empty pillar, she sat leaning against it, simply content at looking at the idol. There was so much to be said, but not a word escaped her lips. And yet, she felt heard. She felt seen. She felt understood.

It might have been quite some time later when Banerjee once again gently touched her shoulder. "Ma'am," he asked softly. "Where next? I've checked out some local hotels. We could stay here for a day or two before we strategize..." His words were interrupted by a call.

"Tai?"

When Gauri didn't respond, the voice spoke louder. "Tai? Gauri Tai?"