Architecture, Art & Beyond

He hated the rain. He had heard it would not stop raining for the next few days. It made him hate the city even more and he longed to return home. He looked out of the window hoping his ordeal would end soon by getting a flight out of the city. He was impatient.

Each day as the hours ticked by he waited, holed up in the confines of the shady hotel room, waiting for an instruction to let him out. He never took defeat well, for him it was no less than a nightmare which lingers in the back of your mind and comes across in flashes when you want it the least. It had taken its toll on him. Not having slept in the last few days he sat beside the table with bleary eyes, waiting for the phone to ring, as the songs from the radio kept him company. He thought he desperately need of a holiday to recuperate.

Then, the phone rang. The voice on the other side informed him that he had one chance to get out of the city unscathed, the early morning flight. He kept the received down, closed his eyes and rested his head on the table in relief. It was finally time to leave.

The hotel entrance canopy stretched to cover the sidewalk. The blue carpet below it was soaked with wet footsteps of people having walked over it. He shrieked within himself at the sight. The end to end deserted road added to his misery. He was not going to get a taxi to the airport. He looked around haplessly to find someone; something; anything which could help his cause. Disgruntled, he walked back into the hotel, to the young man behind the reception desk.

“I need to be at the airport within an hour, there are no taxis outside, can you get me any conveyance; please it’s important.”

“I am afraid, Sir, I don’t think I can get a cab for you at this hour. However, suggest if you make haste you can get the last tube to the Junction. I am sure you will get a cab to drop you to the Airport from there.”

“How far is it? How much time will it take? How much time do I have?”

“Well the station is just behind the back door, so if you start now, you should get the last tube, which is due in ten minutes, I suggest you hurry. Hope to see you soon, have a good trip!”

He grumbled, what sounded anything but a courteous reply, and ran towards the station through the back door of the hotel.

Like any general station, at an unimportant distant corner of a vast city, this station comprised of one underground platform with tracks on either side. The large board announced that Junction will be in the direction of the track to the right, five stops away. He somehow was overcome by the urge to get a confirmation. He could not afford to board the wrong train. He walked up to the lady in a violet scarf and enquired. She affirmed the signage and said she is also travelling in the same direction.

“Thank you, finally, something is happening right. I hope I can reach the airport in time.”

“Twenty minutes to midnight” she said looking at her dazzling watch, “the tube should be arriving.”

“Oh! Here it is!” One could finally hear some excitement in his voice.

They stepped into the sparsely occupied compartment. He walked up to the nearest seat and placed his bag under it and sat down. The lady walked in another direction and stepped into the adjacent compartment. The train started moving. He leaned back and closed his eyes. The events of the last week kept flashing in his head as he struggled to wake himself up and shake it off.

The announcement for arrival of Junction woke him up. He stood up with his bag and walked to the door. To his left on the next compartment he could see the lady in the violet scarf standing in front of the door. He thought it would be apt to ask someone the route to the taxi stop outside the station, so he walked up to her and enquired. She seemed pensive, “It is possibly on Exit 2 on ground level, and you should ask someone there, I have my connecting train on the level above this.” Before he could express his gratitude, the door opened and she rushed out. By the time he gathered his bag and came out of the train she had vanished at a corner. He couldn’t care less; he had a flight to catch.

He started walking towards the escalator at the end of the platform as the train pulled out beside him. The deserted platform to him was as unwelcoming as the city had been during his trip. He was anxious again. As he approached the escalator he saw a person in green attire seated with his back to the side of the escalator. On coming closer he recognised the attire of that of a tube staff.

“Excuse me, Sir! Could you please direct me to the taxi stop outside, so I can hire one to the Airport?”

He did not receive a reply, so he leant forward; only to be shot back by the stench of alcohol and vomit. He was taken aback, so he took a step back and decided to get on the escalator none the less. As he did so, the man in the green dress responded “Across; to the top and down to the left.” He turned towards the voice, but seeing the man in green still seated unmoved, he decided to ignore him and keep moving. The escalator ended at the middle of a platform. Platform number 8 he read. He remembered the lady in the violet scarf; she must have taken her train from here. Strangely though, the platform on other side of the railway tracks was numbered 11. He wondered whatever happened to the numbers in between. Then he reasoned it is quite possible in the god forsaken city that it is.

He turned to look for an escalator to go to the floor above and get out of the musty smelling platform. He felt the rain was slowly seeping into the depth of the station trying to crack it open and let the monsters out. Being stranded alone in such an unwelcoming space was something he would shun without a thought, he had to get out. The platform had two vending machines in disuse and two escalators going down and an arched opening. He walked through the arched opening and was relieved to see another escalator going up, he stepped on it wondering if he should have taken the lift instead.

A couple of minutes through the inclined tunnel and he was led out onto another platform on the top level. Now he needed to find the exit. Not having seen anyone around, he walked towards the facade on the left in hope of finding a door. Through the glass facade he could see the rain pouring outside from the light of the street lamps and the trees swayed in a frenzied dance. He wondered if the flight will ever take off, if he will ever leave this city.

With a jerk he came of out the momentary pause and started looking out for that door. His eyes met those of a man who stood a few yards beside him and with a large grin on his face.

“If there is anything that is amusing you, please do share. By the way do you know the exit?”

“Pardon my manners, your dazed stare at the rain outside was a great subject for my photography. Could not resist taking your photograph and good one it is.”

“Alright, can you help me find the exit?”

“Oh! Sorry, of course! There is one at the end of the platform that will take you to main train station and there is one, for which you will have to travel a bit longer for the city and taxi stop.”

“This one does not lead to the taxi stop? Where is it? How is it possible?” He dabbed his forehead to dry it from the sweat even in this cold of the night. The fear of missing the flight made his heart beat faster. He felt cold and miserable.

“Sorry about that, it’s a long old story about how the city was divided and how they expanded or went deep in the ground with the platforms….ha ha…..”

“No, no, I don’t need to know, please tell me how to reach the taxi stop? Do you know for sure?”

“Ok, Ok, take that escalator straight down to the lowest level, and the then across the platform you’ll get one that goes up. Two levels up and you will be at the doorstep.” Looking at his anguished face the man said reassuringly, “Don’t worry, I have been photographing this place as hobby for many years, I know it well, go on.”

He had no time to even think, let alone thank the man with the camera. A dart, halfway through the platform, and he was walking down the descending escalator. Again he thought, could have taken the lift. Few minutes later he was back from where he started at the platform in Junction. He gave a disgruntled roar within but there was no time for self pity. Time, in fact, was running out and he needed to make a run for it, or pay the consequence of staying longer in the city. He started running from one end of the platform to the other, dragging his bag as he went, hitting the signage and upturning the waste bins. Just when he thought he saw the escalator in front, he was abruptly stopped in his tracks by a man in a green uniform.

“Hey mister, who gives you the right to create such a nuisance here? Do you think the place will clean itself up on its own? I have been sweeping it for the past hour and look what you have done?” the man in the uniform was not happy. He growled with furrowed eyebrows two inches from his face.

Gasping for breath and words which would make sense, he freed himself from the tight grip and replied apologetically “Sorry, I should have listened to you earlier and gone across the platform rather than going up. But you sat drunk and I chose to ignore you. Now I am fast running out of time to reach the airport before the flight takes off. Please bear with me.”

“Drunk? Are you drunk or high on something? I have worked in this place for years and have never done such a thing. You think you can make false accusation on me to escape what you have done?”

“I have nothing against you. You were sitting with your back to that escalator dozing and drunk, just some time ago, when I asked you about the direction.”

“Can you smell me drunk?” roared the man.

He couldn’t smell anything. The bag slipped from his hand and he dropped to the platform, dazed and confused. He felt any more of this and he will never see the light of the day. This sudden reaction affected the Janitor as well. He sat on his haunches and said softly, “Whatever, just go away.” He got up and leant his hand to help the man up to his feet.

The platform seemed eerily silent. The wind seemed still. The light seemed dim. His gaze stood fixed on the floor as he stood up and got hold of his bag. He walked forward to the escalator in a state of trance. He stepped on the escalator and stood motionless as it carried him to the next level. As he did, he heard the sweeping sound of the broom brushing across the floor.

As he moved up, he stabilized his thoughts and decided to focus on the signage and find the exit. Now he just wanted to get out of the station, wherever it took him. He stepped off the escalator and looked for the sign to the next. He found the sign but beside it he found the platform number. It was 11. He stared hard at it; he should have been on platform 8 as he had come down the same way without crossing over. But somehow there was no explaining any of what he was going though. He moved in the direction of the sign till a bright flash of light caught his attention.

“The Photographer!” he exclaimed as he looked across the platform toward the man with the camera. “How did you get there so fast? I thought you were engaged taking pictures of the platform above.” He said remembering the friendly disposition of the man. The photographer on the other side gave a focused look and said “It’s good to find a subject at this hour in the station, I have been walking on this platform for an hour now waiting for you, guess it was worth the wait.” He laughed as he finished.

“For me? For an hour?” Deliriously he shook his head from one side to the other. His vision was blurred and his mind could not piece anything together. “Never mind!” he said and started walking.

“There are no trains for another five hours you know” said the photographer.

He was not listening anymore; his steps carried him in the path he had started out. Reaching this escalator, for some reason he stopped and looked at the lift. He walked to it and pressed the call button. He waited for the door to open but it did not. He smiled a tired smile and got on the escalator to finally lead him out of the station. In his mind there was a train of thought running, trying desperately to make some sense of what was going on. “I may have fever” he thought.

As he finally stepped off the escalator, he once again looked up to find a sign for the exit. The sign pointed towards Exit 2 to the right. He breathed a sigh of relief and started his last walk through the station. On reaching the start of the passage for the exit he saw a lady walking towards him. He stopped, looked closely and to his surprise realized she was the same woman from the train, but she wasn’t wearing her scarf and had a travel bag with her. He felt, it was a welcome sign; a familiar face in the mouth of madness was something of a solace. He waited for her.

“I am surprised you are still here, I thought you left on the connecting train in the level below.”

The lady stopped with a bemused smile and said “Not sure I follow you” she looked at her dazzling watch and remarked “six minutes past midnight; I just reached the station five minutes back on the last train” And she gave him and inquisitive glance.

His mind had gone completely blank and had no reply. He said “is this the way to the taxi stop for the airport?”

“Yes, you can follow me; I am going to a place near the airport.”

She walked past him into the passage as he just stood there for a second and again tried to make sense of things. He kept wondering, all this and just six minutes? Why did she refuse to recognize me? Should I trust her? His head was spinning and all he could again conclude was to get out of the station. He followed her out.

Past midnight the city seemed asleep. The road was empty and dotted with street lights. The cold wind blew gently and flowers blossomed along the path. He walked behind her towards the solitary taxi parked under a street light at a short distance from the exit. He followed her into the taxi.

The driver switched on the meter and then the radio.

The voice from the radio said “Good morning friends! Spring is at the door step and days with clear blue skies and gentle breeze will continue. So pack your bags and go out for a holiday on the seaside before summer locks you behind closed doors. Next song is one for the road.”