It was sometime in the late eighties. I was in one of my travel visits to my parental home in Bilaspur from Hyderabad. Bilaspur is part of present Chattisgarh and erstwhile Madhya Pradesh. Since there was no direct train to Bilaspur from Hyderabad I had to travel to Nagpur and get into another train.
I got into the Dakshin express which was scheduled to leave around 8.45 pm. I had booked my ticket by First Class non AC. It was one the last years of this facility in the railways which has subsequently been discontinued and replaced with 3 tier and two tier AC and First Class AC systems. I was allotted an upper berth in a two coupe cabin. Traveling with me in the coupe was an elderly gentleman who looked to me being in his late sixties. I was in my twenties then. He had an aristocratic look about him and seemed to be from a very educated and well to do background. We wished each other and discussed general things before saying good night and moved to sleep. The train was scheduled to reach at 9 a.m. at Nagpur the next morning.
I woke up at around 6 a.m. when the train reached Balharsha and found the gentleman in the below berth had also woken up. We both wished each other and spoke over a cup of tea. He opened up his heart to me and said “ You know young man, life is so strange and uncertain. I had booked this coupe to travel with my wife with whom I had lived for 40 years. She had passed away just last week or else she would have been with me traveling today. I miss her a lot and feel her presence. I feel she would walk in anytime asking whether I would like to have a cup of coffee and how am I feeling this morning and so on.” I was touched by his sharing although I could not relate to his experience as I was still unmarried then.
I then asked him “Where do you live Sir”. He told me that he was put up in Secunderabad at a place called Tarnaka. I then told him that although I lived in Secunderabad since the last 18 years or so I did not know much about the place but I said I knew one house in Tarnaka which was known as “WildFlowers” by name. He was surprised and exclaimed “ That is my house !”. I was taken by surprise and and asked whether he knew a Goan Christian Family who used to live at the back of that house who had two daughters Lourdina and Jackina. He told me that of course, he knew them since they were the children of one of his employees. I then told him in the early seventies about 12 years ago I had met Lourdina in a science exhibition in Hyderabad and she had invited me to her home to meet her family. I had paid a visit to them on a Sunday and they had introduced me to their landlady who was an aristocratic and kindly looking person. I had wished her and had addressed her as Aunty to which she had replied “ Beta, do not call me Aunty, call me Ammi” I had felt really touched and had never forgotten her kind words. She would not let me go leave without having lunch. I could not meet her husband as he had been out of station at that time. I could not make another visit to her house and time had passed on.
The gentleman in the train exclaimed “Well you know Mr Thomas, that was my wife”. We remained silent for a long time after that. I somehow felt this not a coincidence. I told him “ Sir, I have met your wife only once and have very good and kind memories about her”. He had tears in his eyes.
