When journey meant more than destination…

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 25; the Silver Edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The topic for this month is ‘When Journey Meant More Than Destination’.


They had reached nowhere.

The whispers of understanding were long gone, only to be replaced by the eerie silence. As they sat there, on the station, her mind traveled back to when they had first started the journey.

The station of love was overcrowded with many couples hand in hand, waiting to take the journey together. But she was alone. Well, not quite. She had her family with her; they were making quite a ruckus as they walked alongside her, toward the entrance, where he sat awaiting her. “You’ll love him,” they had said when they had sat on that very same station as strangers, known but through a photograph.

When she arrived that day, she looked stunning. In all that traditional attire, the usual jewels adorning her and a confused look on her face that mirrored his. It said all there was to say. “Would he truly love me?” Hours later, her hand was in his, and with much pomp and celebration, they were seen off from the station. That night, she had shyly put her head on his shoulder and fallen asleep, feeling sure that she had seen a smile on his face.

When she woke up, he was not to be seen. The train was still moving, and around her, couples were kissing, talking lovingly of what their future would be like; but she was alone. She got up and walked in no particular direction, going in search of him.

She walked for ages, not knowing where he was. The train was very long, and she finally reached the end. Then she trudged back all the way, and past their seats toward the other side. When she found him, he was standing at the door, watching the scenery as they sped past. He didn’t notice her near him, and pretended to ignore her when she called his name. Worried, she had placed an inquiring hand on his shoulder, only for it to be pushed away harshly.

“What’s wrong?” she had asked, fighting off tears. He had not replied, just closed the door and walked back in that steely silence to where they had sat before. She had cried as she walked back behind him, but no one had noticed. After all, in love, each will be in their own little world.

As the journey continued, she had tried to get him to talk, pleading, cajoling and even using profanity when nothing else had worked; but nothing could get him to talk. The train would stop suddenly, and people would get off as she read the names of the station in silence. “Understanding”, “Trust”, “Happiness”, “Adjustments”… soon, the train was empty but for the two of them. And she hadn’t any idea where they were heading, as the engine siren announced a stop and the train skidded to a halt.

The name of the station read, “Nowhere.”


Was this their destination?

“Why doesn’t he talk to me? Tell me what’s worrying him? Does he hate me already?” she wondered, sitting on a bench in the morning mist, looking across the pathway to see him, sullen and expressionless, and smoking a cigarette. Feeling defeated, she looked down, feeling the tears coming again.

“You don’t deserve me,” his voice came through the silent morning, as the sun rose in the distant hills.

She looked up and he was sitting next to her. He took his handkerchief out from his pocket, and wiped her tears.

“I know I cannot love you the way you dream of. I have a past, and a haunting one at that. Every time I see you, I feel like not telling you of that before the journey was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made in my life. I’ve given you nothing but tears in this journey, and who knows, I may even give you more if we were to walk on together. It is best that we part ways here, in the middle of nowhere and find trains in opposite directions, never to meet again.”

Feeling her shivering, he had held her close as he spoke.

“If we were to part now because of your past, which I know nothing of, that’d not only ruin our present, but also the future. You’re not hardhearted, and you do love me. You’d not have spoken anything otherwise, or held me close, or even wiped my tears earlier. Let’s travel together for some more time, and you can tell me more about you. Even I can tell you more about me too. If still, after all that, you and I feel that we’re not meant to be, then we shall part; not now.” she said.

And for the first time, a smile did cross his lips.

Just then, the siren sounded, and began to move slowly. Not wasting another second, they grabbed their bags with zest and ran after it, climbing in as it began to go forward with speed.

As they sat in their seats, and talked, the stations which had gone unseen by them before began to adorn their journey again. Adjustments, understanding, trust and happiness all passed them by and they smiled as they saw them. Night had fallen when they heard the siren announce the final stop, and they alighted, happy in each other’s embrace, to find that they were back at the stop of “Love”.

They had gone to nowhere and back, and they knew that on from the darkness, a new sunrise would bless their lives soon.


The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.


(March 4th, 2012)

Poetry & writing to me are to me, a breath of fresh air in a life that is sometimes covered by the smoke of sorrow or self doubt. They also become the sweets I share to celebrate when life offers me a reason to. But most of all, they are to me, my life. For each word I write is a piece of my heart, a thought that just had to find its way into the world.

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