Between Platforms
We board alone. We leave alone. In between, we share the ride.
We arrive without a ticket in hand, placed aboard a moving train. No one tells us the destination. The whistle blows— and the journey begins. Through the windows we gather beautiful sightings of life: fields of laughter, mountains of ambition, rivers of quiet love flowing beside us. At every station, someone steps in— a stranger, a companion, a soul who suddenly feels familiar. We share stories like passing landscapes. Food. Dreams. Silence. For a while, it feels as though the seat is ours. But trains do not pause for attachment. A station arrives. A name is called. A hand is waved. Someone steps down— carrying a piece of us we did not know we had given. The train moves. New faces enter. New laughter settles. Again, we learn to welcome and to release. And when our time comes, we rise— leaving the seat still warm. Another settles in. Places a bag by the window. Calls it his. So what makes the journey worthwhile? Not the claim. Not the stay. But the warmth we leave. The comfort we offer. The burdens we help carry. For in lightening another’s load, we travel lighter ourselves. Perhaps the destination is not a final platform, but the kindness we carried along the way.
Hello Harinath,
what a beautiful poem and an even more beautiful message. We board the train. A stranger becomes a fleeting friend and takes a part of us with them though they leave some of themselves with us. We meet others and this happens. When we finally arrive at our destination we realize the destination was not what was most important. It was our exchange of the weight we carry with those strangers who changed us. And most of all, but even more, what mattered was the kindness we exchanged along the way. Very beautiful.
💐✨