The Message I Didn't
Have to Send
Stuck on a delayed train on Rakhi, watching the minutes tick past, imagining Amma at the window. A story from the other side of the wait.
August 2026 · 4 min read
The Train Board Says Forty Minutes Late, and I Know Exactly What That Means at Home
I've been staring at the same delay notice for ten minutes now, doing the math I always do on this route — forty minutes late means I reach an hour after I told her, because I always round down when I tell her, because "on time" sounds better than the truth. Somewhere right now, she's already sitting near the window with the thali ready, an hour before she needs to be.
I Know She's Listening for the Wrong Autos
I've seen it enough Rakhis to know exactly what's happening on her end without being told — every auto that turns onto the street gets a second of her attention before it passes the gate. I used to think calling her every twenty minutes with an update was the responsible thing to do. Mostly it just meant she spent the whole wait on the phone instead of resting, and I spent it apologizing for a delay that wasn't mine to apologize for.
The Signal Drops Right Before the Station I'd Actually Want to Call From
Typical for this route — the network gets patchy for the last twenty minutes before my stop, exactly the stretch where I'd most want to send "almost there." So the messages either go out too early to mean anything, or they don't go out at all, and she's left doing the waiting with no update either way.
This Year I Didn't Have to Type Anything
This year, somewhere around the time I'd normally be composing that "reached, on my way from the station" text, my phone told me she'd already seen it — the arrival alert had gone to her the moment I stepped off the platform, before I'd even found an auto. I didn't have to fumble for signal or find the right words. I just got to walk to the gate and watch her stand up from the window, already knowing.
And for Once, I Wasn't the Only One Being Watched For
Halfway through the day, between the rakhi and the sweets, I checked my phone out of habit and saw she'd reached the temple for the afternoon puja and back, safe, without either of us needing to ask. It's a small thing, being able to worry a little less about the person who spent the whole morning worrying about me. On a day that's supposed to be about looking out for each other, that felt like the actual point.