Kkkkkkk kirannNah, In chennai express
The sweetest Robbery ♡
- Thread starter Alkaline ✧
- Start date
Awesomely writtenI feel ashame to say tht It's my 1st train journey alone as a 22 yrs old nd I missed something in train !
I didn’t even book a seat, ended up in second class.After scanning for a place to sit, I landed on a solo window seat, put on my earbuds, turned on noise cancellation, and got ready to disappear into my own little world
Just as I started settling in, An old lady, In a loud voice mixed with hand gestures nd thick village slang, said, “The sun will slap ur face there!”. she pointed to the seat next to her. I unwillingly left the window seat nd sat near her.
She asked me (still so loud wth a sign language) where I was going. I was confused, why she is acting weird like I can't hear anything, Then it hit me~ she probably thought I was deaf. My earbuds were hidden behind my hair. So to her, I looked like a quiet girl staring into the void, not hearing a thing. Huh...
She told me she was visiting her pregnant grand daughter-in-law. No one asked, but I admired the enthusiasm. In just a few minutes, she was deep into her life story, stopping only to breathe or adjust her saree. I sat there thinking, Do I know this woman before ? But it’s a very Indian thing—especially for people of her generation to start long conversations with strangers. Before smartphones, people had no choice but to talk.
Her husband, sitting at her opposite, woke up from a travel nap and looked at us like we’d just reunited after a decade. She leaned toward him and whispered (loudly murmured), “Look ! She looks just like our Thangam (name or maybe Nickname of someone)
He put on his glasses, gave me a suspicious stare and then said, “Yes she is !”
I was like, Thangam ??
He pulled out an old wallet and handed me a small pic of a girl — their late granddaughter. Honestly, the only things we had in common were skin tone nd a similar face shape. But in their eyes, it was like they were seeing someone they deeply missed.
It reminded me of my own grandpa. When I lived away from him during school, he used to call me nd say, “I saw a girl today who looked just like you!” I’d get excited and ask, “Really? Exactly like me? ” nd he’d say, “Yes ! She wore a pretty little gown, had two ponytails, and talked to her dolls like they were real.”
I’d roll my eyes and say, “Grandpa, I’m a big girl now. I don’t wear ponytails or talk to dolls anymore” And he’d laugh softly and say, “But u used to ! That's all I remember like yesterday”
I’ve realized since—it’s not about what we see that reminds us of the ones we’ve lost or loved. It’s something softer, something stitched into memory. Something in the heart convinces the eyes: there they are. In a smile, in a voice, in a stranger on a train. Our heart will search pieces of them in everyone we come across. We may sometimes look for faces we've never seen before in faces we think are beautiful♡
We find whoever we love in whatever we find beautiful
That day, the train didn’t just carry me to my destination. It carried me through a story, through nostalgia, through someone else’s memories nd somehow, back into my own.
The oldlady, she was beautiful, with her dark skin tone and a messy hair bun adorned with flowers. She wore aesthetic jewelry, but one piece in particular caught my eye ~ a sparkling ornament called "koppu" or "bugadi"
She showed up like a snack delivery service wth bags full of homemade treats and organic fruits for her granddaughter-in-law. Then, she gently (well, she thought it was gentle) hit my cheek with her folded fingers ~ a playful village gesture, smiled and said, “Eat well and get chubby! Don’t stay skinny like our Thangam”
I was still recovering from the cheek assault, it felt like my teeth almost broke. I kept wondering what she eats to have that much strength in her fingers.
Then she handed me some mangoes, some crunchy treats, homemade sweets, all with so much love (nobody can tell me tht I can't get anything from strangers from now on)
She got off the train, said 'Get home safe,' gave me a cheek pinch nd a kiss, nd took my whole heart with her
Yup Its my heart !
Wont you wish someone like me laugh again reading you story? Then take appropriate action n lets give opportunity to laugh. You reacted after somany days , I started doubting , you disliked my reaction to your story. Finally when I saw it today , I got relaxed n read one time again to laugh again. TY.Awww Im so glad to see ur admiration. This is first ever time I've made someone laugh wth my words.She deserves all the credits. Haha, u still have time to experience such beautiful things in ur life. Yup I made it too short, the rough draft was so long
This is such a wholesome— the kind you don’t plan, but life just drops in your lap like a gift.I feel ashame to say tht It's my 1st train journey alone as a 22 yrs old nd I missed something in train !
I didn’t even book a seat, ended up in second class.After scanning for a place to sit, I landed on a solo window seat, put on my earbuds, turned on noise cancellation, and got ready to disappear into my own little world
Just as I started settling in, An old lady, In a loud voice mixed with hand gestures nd thick village slang, said, “The sun will slap ur face there!”. she pointed to the seat next to her. I unwillingly left the window seat nd sat near her.
She asked me (still so loud wth a sign language) where I was going. I was confused, why she is acting weird like I can't hear anything, Then it hit me~ she probably thought I was deaf. My earbuds were hidden behind my hair. So to her, I looked like a quiet girl staring into the void, not hearing a thing. Huh...
She told me she was visiting her pregnant grand daughter-in-law. No one asked, but I admired the enthusiasm. In just a few minutes, she was deep into her life story, stopping only to breathe or adjust her saree. I sat there thinking, Do I know this woman before ? But it’s a very Indian thing—especially for people of her generation to start long conversations with strangers. Before smartphones, people had no choice but to talk.
Her husband, sitting at her opposite, woke up from a travel nap and looked at us like we’d just reunited after a decade. She leaned toward him and whispered (loudly murmured), “Look ! She looks just like our Thangam (name or maybe Nickname of someone)
He put on his glasses, gave me a suspicious stare and then said, “Yes she is !”
I was like, Thangam ??
He pulled out an old wallet and handed me a small pic of a girl — their late granddaughter. Honestly, the only things we had in common were skin tone nd a similar face shape. But in their eyes, it was like they were seeing someone they deeply missed.
It reminded me of my own grandpa. When I lived away from him during school, he used to call me nd say, “I saw a girl today who looked just like you!” I’d get excited and ask, “Really? Exactly like me? ” nd he’d say, “Yes ! She wore a pretty little gown, had two ponytails, and talked to her dolls like they were real.”
I’d roll my eyes and say, “Grandpa, I’m a big girl now. I don’t wear ponytails or talk to dolls anymore” And he’d laugh softly and say, “But u used to ! That's all I remember like yesterday”
I’ve realized since—it’s not about what we see that reminds us of the ones we’ve lost or loved. It’s something softer, something stitched into memory. Something in the heart convinces the eyes: there they are. In a smile, in a voice, in a stranger on a train. Our heart will search pieces of them in everyone we come across. We may sometimes look for faces we've never seen before in faces we think are beautiful♡
We find whoever we love in whatever we find beautiful
That day, the train didn’t just carry me to my destination. It carried me through a story, through nostalgia, through someone else’s memories nd somehow, back into my own.
The oldlady, she was beautiful, with her dark skin tone and a messy hair bun adorned with flowers. She wore aesthetic jewelry, but one piece in particular caught my eye ~ a sparkling ornament called "koppu" or "bugadi"
She showed up like a snack delivery service wth bags full of homemade treats and organic fruits for her granddaughter-in-law. Then, she gently (well, she thought it was gentle) hit my cheek with her folded fingers ~ a playful village gesture, smiled and said, “Eat well and get chubby! Don’t stay skinny like our Thangam”
I was still recovering from the cheek assault, it felt like my teeth almost broke. I kept wondering what she eats to have that much strength in her fingers.
Then she handed me some mangoes, some crunchy treats, homemade sweets, all with so much love (nobody can tell me tht I can't get anything from strangers from now on)
She got off the train, said 'Get home safe,' gave me a cheek pinch nd a kiss, nd took my whole heart with her
Yup Its my heart !
What you got that day was so much more than a train ride — it was a warm reminder that love, care, and connection don’t always need years to grow; sometimes, they bloom in a single journey between two strangers.
That old lady didn’t just share her food; she shared her memories, her affection, and a piece of her heart — and in return, she unknowingly stitched herself into yours. That’s the magic of these small, unexpected encounters… they stay with us forever.
Thank you
Darling, this is honestly too sweet for me to handle.I feel ashame to say tht It's my 1st train journey alone as a 22 yrs old nd I missed something in train !
I didn’t even book a seat, ended up in second class.After scanning for a place to sit, I landed on a solo window seat, put on my earbuds, turned on noise cancellation, and got ready to disappear into my own little world
Just as I started settling in, An old lady, In a loud voice mixed with hand gestures nd thick village slang, said, “The sun will slap ur face there!”. she pointed to the seat next to her. I unwillingly left the window seat nd sat near her.
She asked me (still so loud wth a sign language) where I was going. I was confused, why she is acting weird like I can't hear anything, Then it hit me~ she probably thought I was deaf. My earbuds were hidden behind my hair. So to her, I looked like a quiet girl staring into the void, not hearing a thing. Huh...
She told me she was visiting her pregnant grand daughter-in-law. No one asked, but I admired the enthusiasm. In just a few minutes, she was deep into her life story, stopping only to breathe or adjust her saree. I sat there thinking, Do I know this woman before ? But it’s a very Indian thing—especially for people of her generation to start long conversations with strangers. Before smartphones, people had no choice but to talk.
Her husband, sitting at her opposite, woke up from a travel nap and looked at us like we’d just reunited after a decade. She leaned toward him and whispered (loudly murmured), “Look ! She looks just like our Thangam (name or maybe Nickname of someone)
He put on his glasses, gave me a suspicious stare and then said, “Yes she is !”
I was like, Thangam ??
He pulled out an old wallet and handed me a small pic of a girl — their late granddaughter. Honestly, the only things we had in common were skin tone nd a similar face shape. But in their eyes, it was like they were seeing someone they deeply missed.
It reminded me of my own grandpa. When I lived away from him during school, he used to call me nd say, “I saw a girl today who looked just like you!” I’d get excited and ask, “Really? Exactly like me? ” nd he’d say, “Yes ! She wore a pretty little gown, had two ponytails, and talked to her dolls like they were real.”
I’d roll my eyes and say, “Grandpa, I’m a big girl now. I don’t wear ponytails or talk to dolls anymore” And he’d laugh softly and say, “But u used to ! That's all I remember like yesterday”
I’ve realized since—it’s not about what we see that reminds us of the ones we’ve lost or loved. It’s something softer, something stitched into memory. Something in the heart convinces the eyes: there they are. In a smile, in a voice, in a stranger on a train. Our heart will search pieces of them in everyone we come across. We may sometimes look for faces we've never seen before in faces we think are beautiful♡
We find whoever we love in whatever we find beautiful
That day, the train didn’t just carry me to my destination. It carried me through a story, through nostalgia, through someone else’s memories nd somehow, back into my own.
The oldlady, she was beautiful, with her dark skin tone and a messy hair bun adorned with flowers. She wore aesthetic jewelry, but one piece in particular caught my eye ~ a sparkling ornament called "koppu" or "bugadi"
She showed up like a snack delivery service wth bags full of homemade treats and organic fruits for her granddaughter-in-law. Then, she gently (well, she thought it was gentle) hit my cheek with her folded fingers ~ a playful village gesture, smiled and said, “Eat well and get chubby! Don’t stay skinny like our Thangam”
I was still recovering from the cheek assault, it felt like my teeth almost broke. I kept wondering what she eats to have that much strength in her fingers.
Then she handed me some mangoes, some crunchy treats, homemade sweets, all with so much love (nobody can tell me tht I can't get anything from strangers from now on)
She got off the train, said 'Get home safe,' gave me a cheek pinch nd a kiss, nd took my whole heart with her
Yup Its my heart !
I always get my eyes filled with tears when I come across some pure love or cute little stories and this one just went straight to that soft spot in my heart.
To be honest, I haven’t even been on a train alone yet… haha. I don’t know if that’s something to be proud of or just a sign that I’ve always been blessed enough to be surrounded by people. Either way, I guess there’s nothing to feel ashamed about.
“We find whoever we love in whatever we find beautiful
”I can’t tell you how true this line feels every single time I read it. And I absolutely loved how beautifully you narrated the whole thing; it felt like I was right there with you, living it.
I really hope I get to travel more too, so I can collect my own little treasure chest of such heartwarming moments.
Note:next time when u post a thread notify me,see how late I am to this.