Short Story: The Protector By Harshita Nanda

In this short story, Harshita Nanda captures a tender moment that reinstates your faith in humanity making you send a prayer of gratitude to the Protector in your life.

The jerk of the train engine made me look up from my book. I glanced outside the window to see the platform slowly moving away. The shrill calls of the hawkers and the aroma of burnt oil receded as the train picked up speed. Out of habit, rather than design, my eyes glanced around the train compartment. The couple on the berth opposite were busy sharing a plate of aloo-bhaji they had brought from the platform. The aroma of their bhaji made my stomach give an answering pang. I had not realised that it was past lunchtime. With the next station a few hours away, I would have to depend upon the lone pack of biscuits I had stuffed in my rucksack before leaving home.

I got up to get my rucksack hanging from the hook when a sob caught my attention. I looked around the compartment and noticed a small girl seated on the berth across the corridor. Frail, dressed in a polka-dotted frock, she sat cross-legged, facing the window as the countryside sped by. She sat absolutely still, but I was sure it was her sob that had fallen in my ears. The only other people in the compartment were the couple who were so engrossed in their aloo-bhaji that they were oblivious to anything around them.