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Trains not only connect cities, they also carry the untold sorrows hidden within people to each other. I understood this the other day, when I was sitting on my seat and while talking to a stranger sitting next to me, I suddenly hugged him and cried bitterly.

It was a mild winter evening. The steam of tea on the platform, the voices of the porters and the waving goodbye, everything was normal. Only my heart was unusual. From outside I looked completely calm, but inside it was as if someone had accumulated years of pain.

I was sitting on the seat near the window. When the train left, the city was left behind, but not the memories. The phone screen would repeatedly light up and then go off. There were some messages which I did not have the courage to reply to, there were some names which brought tears to my eyes as soon as I read them.

A gentleman of about fifty-five to sixty years of age came and sat next to me. Simple clothes, strange softness in the eyes. He placed the bag properly and asked smilingly, “Son, should I close the window? The wind is strong.” I shook my head and said ‘no’. The matter could have ended there, but perhaps fate had something else in store. After some time he again asked, “Are you going somewhere far?”

It was just this simple question, but I don’t know why there was a crack in the wall inside me. I replied formally, “Yes, because of work.” He didn’t scratch much. Just sat quietly. But there was a strange peace in his presence – as if someone was understanding without even asking.

A few hours passed. There was darkness outside. People started dozing off in the pale yellow light of the compartment. Then suddenly he took out parathas from his tiffin and offered it towards me and said, “It is home-cooked food, have some.” I refused, but he said with fatherly insistence, “Those who sit with us in the journey become our own.” My eyes welled up as soon as I heard the word ‘own’. Maybe I was waiting for that word. I did not take food, but could not stop myself.

He asked softly, “Is everything okay?” And that’s it… I broke down. As if someone has opened a dam. I started telling. The complications of job, responsibilities at home, a recently lost relationship, and the tiredness of trying to be strong had now become a burden. He just kept listening. He would nod his head every now and then, and sometimes hold water. He did not give any great lesson, did not share any huge knowledge. Just said, “Cry. Sometimes you need to cry to become stronger.”

There was such familiarity in his voice that I could not stop myself. I bent down and hugged his shoulder and started crying like a child. The sound of the train, the rattle of the tracks, everything became blurred. He placed his hand on my head, just like a father does. In that touch there was trust, security, and a strange promise that everything would be okay.

After a long time, when I regained my composure, I felt as if my heart had become lighter. The problems were the same, life was the same, but now I did not feel alone. The station was about to arrive. He picked up his stuff. While getting down he just said, “Son, keep smiling. Life is very precious.” I quickly touched his feet. He smiled and disappeared into the crowd. We didn’t even ask each other’s names.

The train started again, but this time I was different. There was a slight smile on my lips while looking out the window. That day I understood that not every relationship is made by blood. Some people just meet on the journey, lighten the burden of the heart and then go away quietly. But the courage given by him, his shoulder, and those two words “Cry” remain with me throughout my life.