"Love hurts" is probably the biggest lie out there because true love heals. Love makes people whole again and love fills them with the goodness they need to be as kind and loving as their Creator intended. What hurts is betrayal, thoughtlessness, uncaring attitudes and careless glances. What hurts is people being unfriendly, people shutting down a scope of love, making "exclusive" cliques that are defined by who is "not welcome." What hurts is denial, indifference, coldness and rejection.

Batakrishna was hurt, feeling an emotional tug-of-war in his heart, a constant push and pull - the push when he feared being close to Mira, and the pull when he feared being alone. These were his fears to conquer, yet somehow he needed her emotional stability as his safe harbour. Mira was the mature one, atleast emotionally, and Batakrishna had realised it the day she had pushed him away to keep him safe from societal ill-fame. Yet, when she brashed him away mercilessly despite all his attempts to soothe her, infront of Mahamaya, Batakrishna couldn't digest the hurt.
He too wished to be as mature as her, as cold as a human could be... But even in that coldness, he wished to become her safe harbour in pain, the sanctuary in her storms.

At the peak of the misty dawn the train had stopped at a small foggy station for an hour before the arrival of Faridpur junction. It was a lonely station, and with the white veil of impenetrable fog, it was almost difficult to gauge if there was a soul outside. In the fog the entire surrounding was blurred like an old painting, as if a great work drawn by expert hand. The modest station hut and the red Krishnachura trees were silhouetted black, two-dimensional. The red clay path yawned in every direction with only the old wooden benches and one street lantern to break the view between trees so high that the tops disappeared in the swirling white. It smelled misty, in fact it smelled of nothing but the damp trees not yet in bloom. Without the fumes of the train, now at halt, its odour was as fresh as any meadow without tincture of grass. Batakrishna's footsteps outside the coupe echoed like stones off a cave wall. He was outside, and he wanted to melt onto the misty darkness, but what was the point? Her eyes had given him the vibe of abandonment long ago, and other than the odd roosting birds, all he could register was the melancholic beating of his own heart in many square miles of loneliness.

The sky wasn't clear yet, and the sleeping birds were yet not prepared to leave their nests, as staring vacantly at the half drawn window, lost in thoughts, Mira felt like those reluctant birds, suddenly filled with apprehensions if her son would accept her motherhood, if she's indeed turning away from happiness, if...
Her body swayed with the haulting movement of the train carriage, a lazy and understated rocking motion, and throughout the journey this forlorn stature of hers had made Batakrishna wish he had brought a large book to hide behind.

Mira was thoughtful, Mahamaya's final words playing in her mind like a relay, weighing her heart with a sad helplessness.
'What if she was right? What if Mira was indeed losing her final beckon of life, her last opportunity to find true happiness!'

She sighed, and closed her eyes.

Mahamaya had already left, her uncle Girish Lahiri had received her at the Chattagram junction, leaving Batuk in a mess of stupifaction, an abrupt realisation of how far he had been from reality. They had decided to leave him out of something, the mission, for which he had woven dreams, and although he didn't object to their decision, he couldn't help feel a grave heaviness in his heart.
He had stood by the gate of the train as it moved, unable to recover from the abruptness of the truth of abandonment, both by his purpose and by love. He looked at the rail tracks with vacant eyes, the receding tracks of life as if, and as it gradually came to a halt, Batuk let go of a long held sigh and entered inside their first class four bunker coupe reluctantly, now to be occupied only by the two of them.

"Awake?" He asked her plainly, perhaps purely out of habit, as his eyes fell on her closed eyelids, yet her fingers fidgeting with the small wooden toy cart that Mahamaya had gifted for her son. Batuk touched his pocket to feel the weight of the thick gold bangle, his mother's last sentiments, and suddenly it weighed more than his heart was prepared to take.

Mira opened her eyes and nodded with acute uneasiness, quickly pulling the hem of her plain white saree over her head, covering till her forehead, and it made Batakrishna exhale a sense of unhappiness. He looked away immediately.

"You don't have to do this everytime Mira", his voice was low, "my intention is never to make you uncomfortable."
He pulled the water flask out from the jute bagpack and emptied the remaining of it's leftover content in his throat, hurrying as much as possible. Her increasing silence was making it awkward for him to share this closed confinement with her.

"Tubewell, there." Mira had politely spoken up, for the first time since Maha had left.
"There would be no stoppage after this till Faridpur."

Batuk corked the flask and frowned.
"Who told you?"

"Maha Didi."

Batuk nodded at her response, and letting out another exhale, he busied himself to arrange his single return ticket neatly inside the leather wallet.

"You bought your ticket?" Mira suddenly asked, her eager eyes were staring at his face peeking from the white veil of her saree. It was evident that she was trying to make a conversation, but Batuk's wounded heart at that moment was too full to accept her advances.

"Yes." He whispered a monosyllabe, without looking at her as Mira saw him dashing out of the coupe with a pained expression.

It was foggy outside, with a thin visibility, and with the empty flask in hand, Batuk jumped down from the raised footway of the train to the muddy  platform, it's brown clay slippery with the morning dew. He almost slipped, but then regained his balance with the support of the newly installed iron handle on the train door.

"Damn!" A murmured curse escaped his lips, as with the irritable frown on his face, he trod through the wave of white mist with practically no visibility.
He narrowed his eyes to gauze the direction and distance to the tubewell, and then he turned to look back at the train.

"To your left Choto Zamindar Babu... Ten steps... I can see from here."
Mira's voice came from inside, and turning his gaze to the window, he saw a glimpse of her white saree by the window, visible through the thinned mist. It was indeed thinner near the train but had thickened considerably with distance. But Batuk was in no mood of listening to Mira, not at that moment.

"I don't need your direction!" He hushed under his breath, the suppressed discernment inside him suddenly threatening to come out as rage and tears. Batuk walked to the left, but with quickened pace, as in no time his boots slipped on the slippy brown clay.

"Ahh... Fuck it!" He let out a growl in pain and annoyance, falling on all fours, and the empty flask slipped from his grip, rolling far into the thick veil of mist.

"Are you alright Choto Zamindar Babu?" Came Mira's words of concern, from the distance, and Batuk clenched his jaws and tried to get up.

Why was she suddenly so concerned?
And why should he answer to her now?

Batuk almost puffed his cheeks like he would as a child, and warm air came out from his nose as he tried to wade through the fog a little more carefully to find his way to the tubewell.

It was right next to a small mud thatch, probably the station master's abode, and Batuk's eyes glistened at the sight of the greyish iron handpump promising him with the possibility of water.

"Damn the flask!"
It stuck him suddenly, and he stomped in frustrating indignation

It's all for love... This forgetfulness, this fall, this anger... It's all for her!

Batuk thought, and the very thought fumed him further.

"Choto Zamindar Babu..
O chotoooo...."
A faint fading voice came floating through the impenetrable mist, and Batuk chose to ignore it completely.

Batuk stormed towards the tubewell and let out a sharp exhale, as with all his might he started to pump the handle to draw out water.

"Damn you Mira... I'm not going to listen to you..." He murmured to himself, his jaws clenched.
"Even if it means shutting down every emotions I feel..."
The words made him pump harder, and soon a thin stream of cold water started to fall, gradually taking volume, as soon it started to gush out at once, drenching Batuk's boots and already soiled trousers.

"Holy hell this is!" He jumped a few steps to prevent himself, but ended up slipping on the mud yet again, scrapping his right elbow on a stray stone in the process.

"Oh Maa..."
A soft cry escaped from his lips this time instead of a curse, and pressing his eyes close he let that one drop of angry tear roll down his jawline.

Why does this always happen with him? Why?
His brother never had to face such brokenness! Then why him?
Never had he seen his mother, never had he known her love, and his father was no different...
And about love, the only woman he had ever truly wished for in life just refuses to give him even one chance!
Why was he so unfortunate?
Why?

Silent agony rolled down his eyes, the white cloak of mist hiding his plight, and Batuk sat up on the muddy platform, feeling detached from every senses around... His eyes stared vacantly at the thinned reminisce of water falling from the tube, his ears just heard his own inner wailing, as only one word escaped from his quivering lips like a complaint.
"Mira!"

He uttered her name, and he heard it too, and suddenly, as if like a magic all the veil of sad illusion tore away at once, making only one loud constant sound audible to him... The departing whistle of the train!

The train was leaving, and she was in it... Mira!

"Miraaa...!" Batuk screamed out loud, stumbling over as he hurried to get up from his fallen position.

"Oh God... No no... Please no...!"
He ran towards the train, now leaving the platform in its full glory, tearing the veil of white atmosphere, and suddenly Batuk felt a chill of fear run down his spine...
The fear of losing her!

He ran across the platform... Perhaps faster than his legs could afford, screaming at the top of his voice, but the giant snake had already left it's pit, leaving a cloud of smoke up in the air.

"Noo.... Noo... " Batuk too had ran a long way after the speeding train, as finally he dropped down on his trembling knees, helplessly collapsing on the clay path adjacent to the platform area. His hands were thrown up in the air, wanting to stop the train, wanting to protect the lady sitting inside, perhaps unaware of the terror that she was to be subjected to!
Batuk cried out loud.

"Mira... Please... I'm sorry... I'm sorry Mira... I shouldn't have left..."
He buried his face in his hands and sobbed the words out loud, until a touch of a soft hand pressed on his convulsively shaking shoulders.

"Choto Zamindar Babu."

The world seemed to freeze, so did time as Batuk felt her touch and heard her voice, the voice of his precious!

"Mira... Mira you aren't in the train... Mira you are..." He had turned around, his hands almost cupping Mira's face, as she moved a few steps back, pulling the hem of her saree on her head further.

"How could I be on the train, Choto Zamindar Babu... Without you."

"Without me?" Batuk wiped his face with the back of his arm, and sniffed back his emotions to appear composed infront of her, but her words were making him weak again.

"Yes!"
Mira looked down.

"But I thought you don't want me." Batuk cleared his throat and looked away too.

"I do Choto Zamindar Babu, I really do... But it's just that I don't want you to want me."

"But I can't just stop wanting you Mira... What do I do about that?"
Batuk hushed the words out, his voice thick in emotions, and Mira just let out a soft sigh.

"I know you can't stop... And that why I'm stopping myself... And, that's why I'm pushing you away, even at the cost of..."

"The cost of?" Batuk looked up at her, inching a little closer, and Mira let out a soft chuckle of helplessness, before turning away from him.

"Let's go Choto Zamindar Babu, Faridpur is far from here, and Maha Didi had said there won't be any more trains this week... We'll have to find a way through the village I believe." She picked up Batuk's wooden trunk from the ground with both hands and started to walk, only for him to overtake her in a moment, and he took the suitcase from her.

"Don't worry I'll keep you safe." He remarked, guiding them towards the small thatched hut that's meant to be the station master's abode, and Mira giggled softly at his words.
"What? Why are you smiling?"

Mira nodded her head sideways.
"Nothing..." She pressed her lips and smiled again.
"Just don't fall Choto Zamindar Babu, your pants are a sight already... And I'm not carrying my sewing box."

"Sewing box?" Batuk narrowed his eyes and ran his hand behind, feeling the wet blotches of clay on his expensive linen trousers, but then suddenly his fingers caught into a hole on the cloth at a very compromising place.

"Damn!" He groaned, and Mira handed him the black shawl that she had kept hanging over her shoulder loosely.

"Tie this around, like a dhoti, and I'll find a way to sew it."

"I have a pair of change in my bag."

"Which bag?"

"The tin one."
Batuk murmured, as both of them looked down at the trunk that she was carrying.

"Whose bag did you pick up Mira?"
He almost screamed in dismay, and Mira gasped in fear and confusion.

"I... I... There were just two bags, umm... Um....!"

"Were there anyone else in our cabin?" He held his head in his hands and shook his head in stupor.

"One man, who checks ticket, came in after you left." She gulped nervously, "said if he can keep his bag till the next station... I... I was looking out the window, and I said yes."
Her voice was shaking and Batuk let out a sharp sigh in disbelief.
A moment of intense silence, and Mira was almost on the verge of tears when suddenly Batuk spoke up once again.

"You got the Ticket Checker's trunk! Unbelievable..."
He burst out into loud fits of laughter.

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