University, Memory, Train

"..there's a train going somewhere you once were.."

Chennai — Friday evening at office. Unhurried conversation, weekend plans, the smell of coffee from the pantry. I’m a blue shirt under neon lights. It’s a slow day. I open Facebook, and a few inane scrolls later, a photograph. Of a train turning left on its tracks amidst green country, the misty heights of a hill visible in the distance. I don’t scroll further. The clock stops. Memory starts to tick. T...