The auto driver had to shout to make them heard above the din:” Trivandrum Mail one hour late, sir. You have to wait at the station for more than an hour. Reserved or unreserved?”

“Unreserved.”

“May I try to get you reservation? It’s a matter of hundred rupees per seat. Give me two hundred rupees after confirmation of reserved seats. But you have to make a journey by sitting only. What do you say?”

“No problem. I can manage.” Ramana wanted to put an end to his conversation.

“Is she your wife, bro?”

“No, she is somebody’s wife.” Ramana bluntly replied to cut him short.

“What bro? You’ve mistaken me; she seems to be a small girl. That’s why I asked you. Sorry if I have hurt you.” The auto driver apologized.

Banu who was sitting on his lap chuckled. She seemed to be chuffed by his estimate of her age. She peeped at him proudly.

Till they reached Junction, Ramana didn’t allow the auto driver to speak anything. He paid the amount and took his luggage.

Banu and Ramana entered the junction.

There’s no need to see Hell. There were four booking counters but all were peopled for buying tickets. The mosaic floors were dirty, rubbish and nauseating Even then, some of the villagers were squatting on the soppy floor.




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