Married in the thirties, with a bubbly kid and a boring workaholic husband is perhaps the story that most contemporary women can relate to.
Born to affluent parents meant, I never had to struggle for anything. It also meant I could never experience real happiness. Whatever I required, I had to just ask and I would have it.
In such environment, life breezes by. Before you know it, you complete college, close friends fade away, join the corporate world, work your butt off to a managerial role, get married to your prince charming and realize the prince doesn't have the time for you, bear a child that requires you all the time.
And somewhere through this, you sacrifice. Sacrifice your little joys, your simple wants, yourself.
At such a juncture in my life, came the train journey that promised to change my life, forever. The cyclonic storm forced my flight to be cancelled, and I had to book myself on the first train available, as I couldn't have afforded to miss the board review, where I had to present a new product from my team.
Having lost touch with the railways, I stumbled onto the busy platform with my suitcase in one hand and the laptop dangling from my left shoulder. The stretch of people that started in front of me seemed endless. I panicked.
For a second, I lost my mind. I had no consciousness of where I was and why I was there. I let the suitcase go from my grip and it fell down on the hard tile with a thud. I blinked and then regrouped myself.
I dragged myself to a bench and closed my eyes for a couple of minutes. This is just a sixteen hour train journey that will fly by. I convinced myself that everything is going to be alright and stood up.
I went to the boarding display and identified my train. I went to the platform and was glad to see the beautiful blue train sitting alongside it.
Childhood memories flashed by with me holding my dad's hand and singing to my favourite song, that I often forced my dad to sing along.
I smiled at the thought, just as I reached my coach. I got into the first class compartment and slowly found my place. Things have changed since I last took the train.
The bay was more spacious back then but the cushions and the interiors have definitely improved. It was a four seater with a couple of bottle holders, a huge tinted window, power sockets for laptops, rich textured curtains, a magazine holder and a surprisingly plush table.
I locked my luggage in the little cabinet under my seat and relaxed into my seat. The white cotton trousers I wore along with my striped formal shirt made me feel light and I was smiling, almost enjoying the unexpected luxury of train travel against the congested seats I usually get on my flights.
The ticket collector came by, checked my ticket and looked blankly at my opposite seat. I glanced at the seat wondering if he was able to see somebody I couldn't. Having noticed my bewilderment, he explained he was expecting another passenger to join at my station.
I shrugged my shoulders. He gave a calming smile, bowed to me and left the cabin. That never happened before on the flights. I picked up a magazine from the stand just as the train started to pull away from the platform.
Out of nowhere, a woman, maybe a good five years younger to me, burst into my cabin, panting. Her eyes were bloodshot and she was completely out of breath as she sat down.
She was about 170cm tall I guessed, some two inches taller to me, broad shouldered with an awesomely beautiful face with sharp features. Oh those lips! Angelina Jolie would've suffered from serious inferiority complex looking at them. Pouted and full of life, they looked like sweet candy.
She was not slim, but had it right in all the right places I felt. She was wearing a girly top with front buttons with a flowery print all over. Her hair was thick and short, yet beautiful, like that of Princess Diana, although this one's all black.
She wore denim jeans that fit to her legs beautifully, accentuating her wide hips. Before you start getting ideas and let your imagination run wild, I wasn't into women. But she was definitely the kind for whom I could change my preferences perhaps.
I poured water into a glass, readily available on the table, and offered her. She grabbed it and drained it down her throat in three big gulps. She closed her eyes and rested her head back on the backrest of the seat.
She slowly regained colour in her face and opened her eyes. She smiled and I melted. That was the most amazing smile that ever hit me. I smiled back and said, 'Hi. Rhea here.'
I offered her my hand, which she shook as she said, 'Margaret. Friends call me Mag.' Husky was an understatement to describe her voice.
I looked on expecting her to explain her wild entry. She laughed looking at the expression on my face and said, 'Well, I lost my bag in the station. Just had enough time to lodge a complaint at the police cell before I could jump into the train, just as it was leaving. Luckily I still have my wallet and my ticket in my pocket.'
She took it out and yelped, 'Eek. They are wet from all the running I did. I'm so sorry Rhea. I'm sweating like a pig. I wish I had my bag.'
I gave her a comforting smile, put my hand on hers and said, 'Don't be embarrassed honey, shit happens. Just relax for a while.'
She smiled back and laid her head back on the headrest. Sweat continued to trickle from her face in spite of the air conditioning. Man, this girl does sweat a lot.
She opened her eyes and said, 'Mind if I get a little comfortable with my dress? I can't stand it.' Without waiting for my consent, she opened the buttons on her top and gave me a shock. She wasn't wearing a bra. And she was definitely not built to go without one.
She was lucky her top was thick else with her sweat, her nipples would've been clearly visible through it. She had a sexy cleavage even though she was not wearing a bra. Her top parted in between to show her lovely moulds with either side just stopping at her nipples.
Sweat droplets glistened on her fair skin on her breasts. I was never attracted to women. Not even tried it at college, where everyone experiments. Wasn't in the least interested even to look at my friends while we showered together. I was so hetero. And here I was, gawking at a complete stranger on a train. So much for a dull marriage.
Through the next ten minute or so, I learnt she's an architect. She was going home to her parents. She used to be an athlete at school but career took priority and the good things faded. She still liked to dance and pub occasionally. Gee, this girl talks a lot.
Fifteen minutes of air conditioning and her getting 'comfortable' with her dress didn't seem to improve things for her. She was still sweating and even her thick top was getting wet. And I was strangely getting aroused at the sight.
I could feel my nipples standing up. I hoped it was because of the air conditioning. But I knew it wasn't the reason.
I hesitantly ventured, 'Mag, you are still sweating. I guess you need to get out of that jeans. You can take my night pants if you don't mind.'
She gave that magic smile again. 'Thanks Rhea. That will be great.'
I took my suitcase out, opened it and handed her the night pants. I expected her to go to the restroom to change. Instead, she just stood up, turned away from me and unzipped her jeans.