Alfie Wallace: A Love-story

[MAXIM]

Friends,
The two extracts given below are from my short-story (Eight A4 pages) which I have been editing for quite sometime and which I am hoping to put in lit-net before the end of July.
Can the phrases/sentences put in bold italics be made better? Any suggestions/changes regarding them are welcome. English is not my first language and my degrees are also not in literature. So pl bear up with patience if you find the extracts too mundane.

Background of the story (Alfie Wallace: A Love Story): During a long-distance train journey, the narrator who is executive in a good company unexpectedly runs into his childhood sweetheart, Alfie. Both of them are still unmarried. They exchange notes on their childhood and the present. As they talk the narrator discovers:

I was not feeling crazy for her, the way I felt as a boy but I felt
a new attraction towards her. My mind was telling me over and
over again that it is just the physical attraction of a man towards
an attractive female. There was truth in it, but my heart was not
willing to believe that this was the whole truth. There was also
something else between us which I was not able to clearly put
my finger on……………………………………….

Extract-1(Starting para of the story):
When I left my house at dawn, a lone star was still shining in the sky. Last traces of darkness were, however, quietly vanishing, and soft light of a new day was slowly filling the world. I was going to a distant town on an official tour. My job as the technical manager of my company required me to travel to different parts of the country regularly, and once in a while there would be a tour to a foreign country. It was an enviable job in our company and I worked hard to maintain my position in the office. As I walked towards the bus station, a medium sized suitcase in one hand and a handbag slung over the shoulder, I was just wishing that I get a window seat in the front section of the morning bus. A cool breeze was blowing from front, striking my face in a pleasant manner. It also filtered through my short, thick hairs which were still a little wet due to my recent bath, and bringing a nice, tingling sort of sensation on the scalp there. I had started feeling very fresh and cheerful. …...........

Extract-2 (Para from somewhere middle of the story):
…………. We both had become quiet and were looking out of our respective windows. The train was still rushing through the green fields but the happy mood had suddenly changed. It passed over a big bridge, and down below, the swirling, muddy water of a wide river seemed to be flowing gloomily. I tried to reason that it is probably because the light levels had decreased further* but I knew it was not true. After some time had elapsed, Alfie started telling about Sammy on her own. She kept talking about him for half an hour and I listened quietly to the story of a bright, sensitive young man and his sudden tragic end. Towards the end, Alfie’s voice had choked and she had to wipe the tears from her eyes. I could also feel a lump in my throat. During this half an hour I again felt a new love towards Alfie. I knew that this love was above the physical attraction. The carnal desires that shamed me later on numerous occasions were thankfully altogether absent here. I only felt a sincere desire to see Alfie happy always. I also had inkling that there was renewal of love from Alfie’s side.

* It was evening, and it was getting darker.

[MAXIM]

Background: The setting of this story is in India, the country to which I belong and where I live. The period of story can be placed at a time when cell phones were not invented or were not common. (Otherwise I would have to mention them invariably in the story). During a long-distance train journey, the narrator who is executive in a good company unexpectedly runs into his childhood sweetheart Alfie. Both of them are still unmarried. They exchange notes on their childhood and the present. As they talk the narrator discovers:
I was not feeling crazy for her, the way I felt as a boy but I felt
a new attraction towards her. My mind was telling me over and
over again that it is just the physical attraction of a man towards
an attractive female. There was truth in it, but my heart was not
willing to believe that this was the whole truth. There was also
something else between us which I was not able to clearly put my
finger on.
If you want to know more, please read the story.



ALFIE WALLACE : A LOVE-STORY

When I left my house at dawn, a lone star was still shining in the sky. Last traces of darkness were, however, quietly vanishing, and soft light of a new day was slowly filling the world. I was going to a faraway town on an official tour. My job as the technical manager of my company required me to travel to different parts of the country regularly, and once in a while there would be a tour to a foreign country. It was an enviable job in our company and I worked hard to maintain my position in the office. As I walked towards the bus station, a medium sized suitcase in one hand and a handbag slung over the shoulder, I was just wishing that I get a window seat in the front section of the morning bus. A cool breeze was blowing from front, striking my face in a pleasant manner. It also filtered through my short, thick hair which were still a little wet due to my recent bath, and bringing a nice, tingling sort of sensation on the scalp there. I had started feeling very fresh and cheerful. There were very few people on the road. It was quiet all around and the only sounds were those of tweeting of birds on the trees lined up on either side of the road and rustling of the trees leaves due to breeze. The bus station was just ten minutes walk from the house. Reaching there I immediately got the bus for Metropolis and a good, front window seat in it. I grinned and thanked God for keeping things smooth so far. The bus brought me to Metropolis by noon. I had a train from the big city in the late afternoon. Normally, I always traveled towards my different destinations from the metropolis by air; but again, it was only this rushed, mechanized existence, I was living day in and day out, which spurred me to take the sudden decision of traveling by train. ‘Heavens are not going to fall down, if I go slowly for a day or two’, I had to explain to my bosses when they tried to object to my travel plans. After eating a heavy lunch in a good hotel followed by a hot cup of coffee I took an auto rickshaw for the railway station.

When I reached the railway station there was still enough time left with me. My train started from here itself and was already present on the platform. The reservation chart was put up on the stands on the platform and there was a small crowd before it. I had a confirmed ticket and although it was not necessary, I stopped to have a look at the chart. Scanning through the charts I quickly located my name on it. Then looking up, I saw another name just above mine that made my heart jump. Miss Alfie K Wallace F 31- the full name was printed correctly and even Alfie’s age was exactly matching. Motionless, I stared at the name on the chart. It was like a miracle unfolding before me and for first few seconds I just could not believe my good luck. But then excitement made my mind dizzy and my heart was beating faster than its normal pace. The idea of meeting my childhood sweetheart so unexpectedly, after so many unknown years had such strong effect on me that I could feel the blood rushing faster in my veins. The tag of ‘Miss’ before her name began to excite as well puzzle me. To be truthful, I had woven many fantasies around Alfie in my life but it looked so hard to believe when one such fantasy was on verge of turning true. A fear arose in my mind that what if this Alfie turns out to be some other girl. But then logically thinking, the chances of another girl having such an uncommon name and surname and exactly matching age appeared negligible.
‘God doesn’t play dice,’ I muttered to myself as I made my way towards my coach through the thronging crowds at platform

In the cool comfort of the 2 tier AC coach I found my childhood Alfie sitting on a window seat, engrossed in reading an English novel. From the pony-tailed, petite girl I once knew, she had now been transformed into an attractive young woman. As I put my suitcase and handbag in the upper berth I kept looking at her but since she did not look up from her book I had to call out her name. Startled, she looked up and kept staring at me with big eyes. I just kept smiling back, giving her a chance to recognize me. Suddenly her face lit up and she got up from her seat.
“I couldn’t recognize you. You have changed a lot.”
“Perhaps we didn’t know each other very well in the colony”, I complained mockingly.
“No, no..... it’s not that,” She protested strongly, “I just don’t know how I recognized you. You are taller now and with a fuller face. There were no specs then. And such… different hair cut.”
“I saw your name on the chart and felt sure that this Alfie has to be you.”
“Oh! So that was it”, her face broke into a smile of understanding, “had I seen your name, I too would have recognized you quickly……your name too is unique.’
‘It was just below your name..’, I interrupted her, feeling surprised.
‘I don’t glance up or down, once I find my name in the chart.’, She shot back ‘Men have roving eyes. How many F’s? What age? Is it not?” There was a mischievous glint in her eyes.
“I admit”, I said laughing “it is an old habit of mine of checking the age and names of males and females who are in near vicinity of my berth. But I don’t have a roving eye. On the contrary, you seem to have perfected Arjun’s eyes. Remember, the story of Arjun and Guru Dronacharya, that Rachna madam too must have taught you at school. God! You missed my name which was just below your name.”
My comparison set Alfie laughing and we both fell into a heavy laughing at the remembrance of our good, old English teacher, Rachna madam, teaching in full tempo her favorite story of Arjun’s archery skill to a new class every year.
“Concentrate! Concentrate! Eye only on the target like Arjun’s, and nothing else, and you all will get somewhere in life. Otherwise nobody is coming to save you. You lazy morons” Alfie enthusiastically mimicked the well-meaning advice of Rachna madam, shaking all the time with laughter.

I had thought a lot about Alfie in my life. I don’t know how much a girl can think about a boy but seeing Alfie’s beaming face I felt sure that she too was feeling very happy on meeting me. Within minutes we had got lost in our countless questions and answers.

Many years ago in a small town during the beginning of adolescent years ‘love’ had developed between Alfie and me. As such we knew each other from very early years but there was nothing like love between us in the beginning. We lived in nearby houses in a big colony and had grown up along with other kids of the colony - talking, playing, fighting and going to the same school together. In a colony which largely constituted of Hindu population, Alfie’s was the only Christian family. I was one year senior to Alfie in the school. Our parents, all middle class people also knew each other quite well and that was all that could have been there between us. As we grew up, the communication between boys and girls automatically lessened because the parents, especially girls’ side, did not approve of teenage boys and girls mixing freely. So when love grew between us, Alfie and I would rarely talk but would try to stay in each other’s vicinity and would repeatedly look into each other’s eyes. Those were the maddening days. The shine in Alfie’s eyes and her special smile for me would drive me crazy. Once my eyes would meet hers, I would feel happy for hours and nothing in the world could dampen my spirits. The star in her eyes, her shy smiles, her laughter, and all her actions would have a mesmerizing effect on me. Unfortunately, I too was shy and sensitive and, also too tongue tied when it came to talking with girls. So I suffered a lot. I only understood then what the poets and writers meant when they wrote about the aching in the heart and longing and restlessness and despair and other such things. All day long Alfie would be in my conscious or sub-conscious mind and at night I would be sleepless for hours. When sleep would come, she would come in my dreams. She also appeared to have pretty strong feelings for me but we kept our secret to ourselves. This had continued for nearly two months and slowly I had developed enough courage to confess my love to her when everything abruptly ended. Alfie’s father suddenly passed away one day due to a heart attack. As luck would have it, I had to leave for an already planned ten days educational tour of the school the next day. By the time I returned, Alfie with her family had left our town for their native place. Her grandparents had come to fetch them. After those days we were meeting again on this day.

So engrossed we were in our conversation, that I became aware of the time only when I suddenly felt a small jerk and found the train moving forward. Looking down at the watch I found the departure dot on schedule. Slowly, the train started picking up speed and soon the platform with all its hustle and bustle was left behind. Passengers had poured in the compartment as we were busy talking and all surrounding berths appeared full. Ours were side berths, almost in the middle of the compartment. Alfie’s was the lower berth whereas mine was upper. For overnight journeys, I generally avoided the side berths, but this time I did not mind much as they were providing us with a dear privacy. We could be completely on our own and there was no need to indulge in a small talk with our nearby co-passengers.
“Miss Colony must have had a love marriage”, I said resuming the conversation once again. Alfie laughed at the mention of ‘Miss Colony’.
“Yes, it was a love-cum-arranged marriage. She is now Julia Singh. Brother-in-law is also Christian. Now they have two darling daughters”.
Julia was Alfie’s elder sister and was the most beautiful girl of the colony. We boys of the colony had secretly nicknamed her as ‘Miss Colony’. Alfie had informed me that Julia has settled in Canada with her husband.
“And when are the wedding bells ringing for you”, I gently probed her.
“What bells? There is not yet a single eligible bachelor in sight”, she said rolling her eyes upward in a mock resignation.
“Really?” I asked feigning disappointment.
Getting the cue, she burst out laughing and added, “Of course, except one”.

Alfie had now become more attractive than before. I was not feeling crazy for her, the way I felt as a boy but I felt a new attraction towards her. My mind was telling me over and over again that it is just the physical attraction of a man towards an attractive female. There was truth in it, but my heart was not willing to believe that this was the whole truth. There was also something else between us which I was not able to clearly put my finger on.

We were talking about old times -- our childhood friends, teachers who taught us, about our old town, our school etc., etc. Ajay is in Air Force, Anil plays for state cricket team, Neema has become a TV announcer, Ravi and Seema have married, Savita madam died of blood cancer, the town has expanded in all directions etc., etc. A long time had elapsed after we had left our old town. Few years back I had visited the town again to attend a friend’s marriage. Alfie had never gone back there again after her father’s death. After meeting Alfie, hundreds of memories of old times revived. We were talking about that annual function in school in which we had played little parts together in a comic skit, the no-holds-barred colorful Holi festival we celebrated in colony every year, the famous and spicy incidents of colony, funny stories about an eccentric friend etc., etc. Even small, casual events of past that lay dumped deep down in memory began to appear alive before me. It was as if I have been transported back in time. So intense my feelings grew that I could once again actually feel the past. I could see myself trudging back home after school and even in the cold of an AC compartment, I could almost feel the perspiration and heat of the scorching sun on my back. Then I was at Alfie’s house on her last Christmas in the colony, throwing furtive glances at her and every now and then our eyes would momentarily get locked. The same happy excitement I felt at that time, as a big wave washed over my entire being again. It appeared as if electricity has run from my head to toes. I could feel pricks over my entire being. Alfie too must have been feeling nostalgic. There was a distant and a longing look on her face. When she was saying, ‘those were altogether different times’, I fully understood her. She was teaching in a renowned boarding school and was telling me that the present day’s kids are much, much smarter than what we were at their age.

After a long absorbing chat we tend to become quiet. A comfortable quietness of that kind had come between us. I was looking out of the window at the soothing evening scenery. The sun had set but there was still plenty of light. Monsoon was at its last phase and rains had become infrequent. Although the sky was clear, but the landscape through which our train was passing must have had experienced showers not long ago. Everything looked washed and cleansed, and the soil was wet. The rain seemed to have brought down every dust particle in the atmosphere to the ground and the visibility was so good that one could see clearly up to really long distances. There were paddy fields all around, with green crop bobbing up and down in a good wind. Then there were trees and high tension poles, isolated houses and huts, entire villages and people with their animals, which were rapidly disappearing behind our train. Happy looking children at few places waved with gusto at our train. At several places, some distance away from our train, were water pools of varying sizes, created by the rains. The wind was generating synchronized and symmetric pattern of rippling waves on them which looked very pleasing to watch. Everything looked well in the God’s kingdom and I felt glad to be witness to such fine scenery. It occurred to me that on traveling by air and looking down from a height of ten km above the ground, the scenery would have hardly looked alive.

I glanced at Alfie who too was looking out of her window lost in her own world. There appeared a ring of sadness about her which began to disturb me. Delving back in past, I suddenly remembered that she also had a younger brother, Sammy. Sammy was several years younger to us and had stayed for a very short period in the colony. Alfie’s parents had put him up with his grandparents on their insistence. I had completely forgotten about him. The suspicion that something was gravely wrong somewhere, came in my mind. A flicker of pain passed through Alfie’s eyes when I inquired about Sammy. “In a motor-cycle accident last year, Sammy.......”, she left the sentence incomplete. I didn’t know what to say except saying ‘sorry’.

Slowly the realization dawned on me that Alfie on her own would never have told to me about Sammy. She had her own private world which was only hers and her family’s. I had no entry in that world. She had been laughing and joking with me, sharing the past with me and discussing the good and bad aspects of the present world. However, her private pains were her own. She was not ready yet to share them with me.

We both had become quiet and were looking out of our respective windows. The train was still rushing through the green fields but the happy mood had suddenly changed. It passed over a big bridge, and down below the swirling, muddy water of a wide river seemed to be flowing gloomily. I tried to reason that it is probably because the light outside has become dimmer but I knew it was not true. After some time had elapsed, Alfie started telling about Sammy on her own. She kept talking about him for half an hour and I listened quietly to the story of a bright, sensitive young man and his sudden tragic end. Towards the end, Alfie’s voice had choked and she had to wipe the tears from her eyes. I could also feel a lump in my throat. During this half an hour I again felt a new love towards Alfie. I knew that this love was above the physical attraction. The carnal desires which made me feel ashamed later on numerous occasions were completely absent here. I only felt a sincere desire to see Alfie happy always. I also had inkling that there was also renewal of love from Alfie’s side.

In my mind I was trying to analyze our feelings for each other. The childhood bonds are not that fragile, I was telling myself. It was only our past that was binding us together today, bringing us closer. Many years ago, we grew up together in the same town, went to the same school together and had felt crazy towards each-other. Agreed, it could have been only infatuation or puppy love but still it was a fact of our lives. We knew each other’s nature from the beginning and even after growing up our nature has not altered much. I knew we could trust each-other very easily. Today our childhood was making a bridge between us. The present world has changed so much in comparison to our old world and was still changing at a fast pace. At such a time, Alfie’s company was looking like a strong, solid pillar. I used to think that I had changed greatly with time. It was also true as far as getting worldly-wise was concerned. But after meeting Alfie I had discovered that the long forgotten child was still alive inside me. Alfie too, in spite of her modern outlook looked the same girl whom I had loved madly as a boy. Our intrinsic nature had not changed much and it was our similar nature that was drawing us closer.

The train which was running fast since last three hours had started slowing down. A big station was coming and outside in semi-darkness, the city lights were glowing. Train journeys excited me right from my early days but there was something unforgettable about the particular evening. After pouring out her heart Alfie was feeling better and was her normal self. I was feeling closer to her for she had confided in me. We were sipping tea amidst the hustle bustle of a noisy platform. An old, catchy Hindi movie song was playing on somebody’s cassette player and Alfie was tapping her feet to the music. She was looking terrific in a dark blue T-shirt which she has tucked inside her faded jeans. I was wondering whether I should propose to her for marriage. Suddenly our eyes had met and we smiled together. It appeared as if she was reading my thoughts telepathically. It was then that I started seriously thinking about the possibility of marriage with her. When rich, well-placed and influential parents of pretty girls of my community were lining up just to get a nod from me, should I leave it all to marry Alfie? The worldly-wise, logical person in me wanted to think things clearly, weigh all pros and cons before arriving at the important decision.

Sometime later our train resumed its journey and was again running at full speed. Alfie had again picked up her unfinished novel and was lost in its last fifty-sixty pages. I was half- believing that she was reading my thoughts. She was a good and self-respecting girl. Her station was due next day early morning whereas my destination was couple of hours after her station. I knew that whether I propose to her or not, she would bid me a cheerful goodbye in the morning. A tinge of jealousy passed through me at this thought. However, now we were not crazy after each other as we were during childhood. At that time, not seeing her for a day would leave me utterly miserable. Alfie too seemed to reciprocate those feelings. I had seen clearly both happiness and hurt on her face in those days. Now we both were level headed adults talking in an easy manner. A chemistry still existed between us, however, its intensity was not like that of the past. Now we could live without each-other. I still felt something when I looked into Alfie’s eyes. I still liked her smile and infectious laughter. Alfie too appeared to have feelings towards me. But now more than attraction, I felt a sweet bonding with her, a quiet caring for her. There was a sense of a quiet belonging. Whether I marry her or not, whether we never meet again after this meeting, we both would always wish good for each-other. Deep inside me, one more thought disturbed me. I felt that if I don’t propose to Alfie by morning then the magical web of tender feelings which had so spontaneously woven around us would get destroyed. The spell would break, a fairy tale would end and nothing would ever be exactly same again. It was this thought that frightened me most.

By the time the dinner from pantry car got served, Alfie had finished her novel. It was a mystery novel by a famous authoress who Alfie informed is considered as the queen of suspense. She kept marveling at the story-telling style of the writer and how the various jigsaw pieces of the plot fitted so perfectly after the killer got identified at the end of the novel. Throughout the dinner, she wore an expression of resigned amusement in her face. It was apparently due to her failure to read the clues in the novel and identify the killer in the novel, but like a fool, a doubt began to creep in my mind it may even be due to my dilly-dallying on decision regarding her. After dinner, we had laid down in our berths. For a long time, I kept thinking about a lot of things. I thought about my aged mother who lived with me and my father who had died a year ago after long illness. My mother was fond of Alfie in the colony days but given her orthodox stance, I doubted whether she would accept a Christian as daughter-in-law. This was biggest question before me. I thought about Alfie’s mother who was staying with Alfie after Sammy’s death, and her reaction if we got married. I thought of her and Julia’s and Alfie’s grief over Sammy’s death. I wondered whether destiny was beckoning us to unite, or our chance meeting is going to turn out to be just one great memorable event of our lives. With luck knocking so clearly at my door, whether I would turn it into another case of so near and yet so far. Deep down, I believed in God but experience has also taught me that God could often be utterly callous or nebulous or exasperatingly aloof to our wishful thinking. I thought of my life till date - single child of doting parents, a happy childhood, fun and hard work during college days, my different jobs, foreign visits etc. I again remembered those golden days of the past when our lives moved without internet, TV, computers and telephones. I also wondered whether Alfie was only trying to seduce an eligible bachelor by her subtle behavior or she really is a good soul. We had touched upon an entire gamut of topics during our conversation ranging from politicians to people to patriotism, and from world environment to our working environment; however, we never made even the slightest mention of our childhood love for each-other. Could it be taken as a good sign, I wondered. I told myself that if I don’t propose to Alfie, then she will continue to teach in the boarding school and within a few years she should get married to a smart, well-off person. Once married she will get involved with her kids and husband. Mine will also be a similar story. And if all goes well, we would also get old like many other people and one day we too will pass away from this world. In our last days we would surely remember each-other. All sorts of rubbish and sentimental thoughts were passing through my mind. My head had started aching and I don’t remember when I fell asleep.

Hearing my name called out I got up with a jerk. Alfie was calling me. Her station was approaching. By the time I returned from the wash basin after washing my face, the train was entering the station. I walked behind her, holding her suitcase and we got down from the train. The train had only had two minute stop here. We were facing each other. It was time to say good bye.
“Alfie, will you marry me?”, I asked, looking tentatively at her.
She kept looking at me for a long moment before counter questioning “Were you thinking
about this the whole night? And are you sure of what you are saying?” I just nodded without saying anything, never taking off my eyes from her eyes.
She began to smile. There was a shine in her eyes and she was looking at me the same way she looked at me long, long time ago.
“Julia wants to fix my marriage with a handsome Indian Christian engineer in Canada. The boy too is keen on marriage even without having met me. Just talked to me on phone for five minutes. Julia is telling me to quickly come to Canada. .....but I feel that I should stay back here with you.”

A short while later the train was giving whistle and had slowly started moving forward. I had climbed up in my coach and was waving to Alfie happily from the door. She too was smiling and waving back. It was only a temporary parting. Just like in Alfie’s novel, I too was feeling that an important piece has been arranged at its proper place in my life, and that my best days lay ahead. I was thanking God fervently for everything.
*******************
THE END
******************

[kathycf]

Hey Maxim:

I liked your story. I especially liked the descriptions you use regarding adolescent love and the way you describe the landscape. I have a few minor suggestions for you about language, but I am a bit pressed for time right at the moment.

I will log on later and post them. Take care now.

[MAXIM]

Dear Kathy

Thanks for your first comments and for liking the story. I am still waiting for suggestions from you but where are you nowadays.
Comments from other readers are welcome. I think, honest comments are always better even if they are very strong worded, and also comments seem more real than the number of views one gets for his/her writing.
On second thoughts, if the comments are too strong worded then you better PM to me rather than posting here.

Also readers may type following words put in bold below in Google search (Thank you, GOOGLE & Wikipedia , for the mine of information you contain) to know more about the words/phrases mentioned in the story:


Auto-Rickshaw: A popular means of public transport in India

God doesn’t play dice: A famous quote Einstien made with regards to Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle.

Guru Dronacharya and Arjun: Characters in Hindu epic Mahabharat. During an archery test for Pandav and Kaurav princes, Guru Dronacharya put a toy-bird in the tree and told the princes to take aim at the eye of the bird. Arjun was favorite pupil of Guru Dronacharya who succeeded in this test.

Monsoon: Rainy season in India and other neighboring Asian countries. After the hot summer months, it rains and rains. It is beautiful but is also devastating as it causes flooding of rivers and loss of lives and property.

Holi: A popular festival of color in India where people apply colors on each-other faces

[Captain Pike]

You've probably solved all these problems by now, but I thought your excerpts were quite interesting.

Are you writing the story as if it were taking place in the contemporary United States? We are unfortunately bereft of any real traveling by rail in this country -- most of us Americans have probably not traveled much at all, maybe never, onboard passenger trains. This is a shame, and my opinion, having traveled only briefly in Europe, where the kind of chance meeting you describe here would be very possible and enjoyable. The demise of rail travel probably began in the 50s here, giving way to the gotta-have-it-right-now syndrome we, consumers of way too much fuel, Americans, are infected with. I think the train station was given an unsafe and dirty label which helped air travel flourish during this period in America. Now the trains have become become trendy and expensive, since we've paved over most of our rail intersections.

So then, regarding your sentence:
I was going to a distant town on an official tour.
Is fine. Probably the term "official tour" might be something like "official company business", as tour implies a performance tour, such as a musical or stage act.

I love the verbiage around "walking into the wind with wet hair". The only thing I would change would be that in English, "hair" is also the plural when you are speaking out them collectively. Such as, "walking into the wind, the slight breeze had a cooling effect in my hair...". You would only use, "hairs" in the remote possible instance where you might be describing many people's hairs, or more likely, as such: "... all the fine hairs on her arm stood up as a chill ran up her spine...".

And the bubbling, muddy river could take on a gloomy feel, "as dusk settled in..."

I would love to read this thing. It definitely sounds interesting.

[MAXIM]

Dear Captain Pike

Thanks for your comments. I know my english still require lot of improvement. I write mainly for the pleasure I get from this form of creativity. I will consolidate all editing suggestions and edit the story at a later date.

I have put the story in the short-story forum and now it is in the third page already.
Your comments on the same would be welcome.

Maxim

[Captain Pike]

Well Maxim:

To be completely American, I have sent you 2 large private msges, and I post my verbose assessment of your essay here to:

I have read your story. I have jotted down some comments which are within square brackets, []. I like your story very much, I could read on and on about the landscape and customs of your country. This material is very interesting to me. Further, the courtship procedures are completely unknown to me. Reading about a modern-day arranged marriage was very interesting. Well anyway, here are my comments, for what ever there were, please feel free to repudiate at your discretion!

When I reached the railway station there was still enough time left with me.
[... till enough time left with me? What does it mean?

Do they actually give the names of persons traveling on the train?]

Miss’ before her name began to excite as well puzzle me. To be truthful, I had woven so many fantasies around Alfie in my life but one such fantasy could actually turn true, I found it hard to believe.
[The word tag isn't right. It seems like it should read "but when such a fantasy seems actually to be true...]

she had now got transformed
[she had now been transformed...]

Her grandparents had come to fetch them. After those days we were meeting again on this day.

[It wasn't immediately clear to me what you meant here. I think you mean "that was the last time that I saw her until meeting here today..."]

[I have no knowledge out passenger trains in India or anywhere. But in the discussion of the side births did not adequately explain their configuration. It sounds fascinating, by the way.
Also I didn't immediately grasp the concept about "love marriage", as opposed to, I suppose, an arranged marriage which you alluded to further on -- also very interesting, and unknown to me. Both of these concepts could be explored more fully to the satisfaction of an American reader]

comfortable quietness of that kind had come between us.
[I like this very much, this worked well]
[the entire paragraph following this line was very good, it conjured up a pleasing image in my mind. And, I was delighted that you included a comparison to air travel -- that none of this would be seen by a fast-moving passenger at 10 km above. I recently made such a comparison in a piece I am now writing -- odd]

When rich, well-placed and influential parents of pretty girls of my community were lining up just to get a nod from me, should I leave it all to marry Alfie? The worldly-wise, logical person in me wanted to think things clearly, weigh all pros and cons before arriving at the important decision.

[No problem with this... it's just that I recognize that in the culture described here seems far above the typical way things play out here in the US. No way could an attractive man and an attractive woman both have reached the age of say middle or late 30s without being married a couple of times already. It would be interesting, I expect, for an American reader to learn about the way you describe the social interaction in India. We typically get drunk, make love, draw up a prenuptial agreement, and then get married -- wartime is put into the selection of the bridesmaids dresses than the bride herself! Of course I exaggerate here, but only to make a point. What you described here seems fascinating and enviable: I wonder what things would have been like for me, had I entered into adulthood and marriage with this kind of expectation]

I don’t propose to Alfie by morning then the magical web of tender feelings ...
[as I read along here, I am thinking, "couldn't he just ask her for her phone number, so maybe they could talk again sometime, before feeling obligated to propose marriage?"]
[I am liking this story very much]
washing my face, the train was entering the station. I walked behind her, holding her suitcase and we got down from the train. The train had only had two minute stop here. We were facing each other. It was time to say good bye.
“Alfie, will you marry me?”, I asked, looking tentatively at her.
[Of course you are the author, but you might think about dragging this out some... two minutes to go, this train starts rolling away... She begins walking on the platform with the train, puzzled... he reaches out his hand, his eyes imploring an answer... and so forth.]
[I did not intend to read the whole story just now, I have writing work to do myself, but could not really stop and take my mind off your story... this is good. The store is well written, with great imagery. You began to tell me about a culture I am totally ignorant of. This may not be the intellect of the average reader. For me, you could've gone into more detail regarding the very different courtship process in your country. Also, you were well able to describe yourself as a "good catch", without seeming too egotistical. This is tricky, you are to be commended, and you might consider embellishing some more. All these kinds of things are completely foreign to me. It's true, in America, some women could be considered to be "Fortune Hunters" -- the older we get, the more it seems to matter what's in the bank then in the bed. I'm no expert -- I'm on wife number two. I like your story very much. I felt myself longing to travel in India in this way -- how fantastic -- the green and pools left around after the monsoon season... very compelling.]


_P.

[MAXIM]

Dear Captain,
Thank you, for your nice comments. Reading your post, made my day. You have gone through the whole story and your enjoying this story is as much my enjoyment. My replies on your queries are as under:

Comment:
When I reached the railway station there was still enough time left with me.
Reply:
It means that, there was still enough time left for the departure of the train from the station.

Comments:
Do they actually give the name of person traveling in the train?
I have no knowledge out passenger trains in India or anywhere. But in the discussion of the side births did not adequately explain their configuration. It sounds fascinating, by the way.
Reply:
Yes. In the platform there is a printed chart listing the names of all passengers, their gender and age, and in which coach number of the train they would be traveling. Again, near the door of each coach is pasted a list of passengers (along with M/F & age) who would be traveling in that particular coach.
The coaches are mostly following four types with fare in ascending order (1 to 4):
1. Sleeper class (non-AC with lower, middle and top berths for sleeping: You can open up the glass windows in this class)
2. Three tier AC ( Air Conditioned again with lower, middle and upper berths)
3. Two tier AC (with lower and upper berths)
4. First AC ( again with Lower and Upper berths: but more spacious and more private).
The side berths are actually passage berths; one upper and one lower with slightly lower lengths compared to main berths.

The train travel from source to destination can be over 48 hours for long distances, across the length of the country.
Journeying by train for full two days – eating, sleeping, relieving oneself, watching the landscape (cultivated fields, lush jungles, deserts, big rivers, mountains, tea gardens etc) roll by and the platforms at railway stations so alive and vibrant with people; seeing the sunrise and sunset and other such scenes would be a memorable experience for people who have never traveled long distances by train.

Comments:
Miss’ before her name began to excite as well puzzle me. To be truthful, I had woven so many fantasies around Alfie in my life but one such fantasy could actually turn true, I found it hard to believe.
[The word tag isn't right. It seems like it should read "but when such a fantasy seems actually to be true...]
Reply:
Yes, the English does not look correct. What if I change the sentence as follows:
To be truthful, I had woven many fantasies around Alfie in my life, but it looked so hard to believe when one such fantasy was on verge of turning true.

Comments:
she had now got transformed
[she had now been transformed...]
Reply:
Agreed & corrected.

Comments:
Her grandparents had come to fetch them. After those days we were meeting again on this day.
[It wasn't immediately clear to me what you meant here. I think you mean "that was the last time that I saw her until meeting here today..."]
Reply:
Yes, that is what is the meaning.

Comments:
[Also I didn't immediately grasp the concept about "love marriage", as opposed to, I suppose, an arranged marriage which you alluded to further on -- also very interesting, and unknown to me. Both of these concepts could be explored more fully to the satisfaction of an American reader]
When rich, well-placed and influential parents of pretty girls of my community were lining up just to get a nod from me, should I leave it all to marry Alfie? The worldly-wise, logical person in me wanted to think things clearly, weigh all pros and cons before arriving at the important decision
Reply:
In India, majority of marriages are still arranged marriages. Parents seek matches for their sons and daughter, mainly in their own communities. Once, the match is fixed there is generally an engagement ceremony followed by wedding. Nowadays, boy and girl meet with each-other or interact with each other through phones (or emails, the modern lot) and come to know each-other prior to their marriages. It may look weird, but for earlier generation, say 20-30 years back, majority of times, a man and woman who would become husband and wife would come face to face with each-other only on their wedding night. Even people would marry without seeing the photographs of their would-be wife or husband.
Arranged marriage has one good point. There is a very good social networking between boy's and girl's families, when they are from same communities. So it is not only marriage of a man with a woman but it is coming together closer of two families. Also in case of minor rifts between boy and girl, their families and relations rally around and help in keeping marriage intact.
Now with world getting more and more modern, love marriages, love-cum-arranged marriages and marriages outside communities are also slowly getting popular in India.

Comments:
[I did not intend to read the whole story just now, I have writing work to do myself, but could not really stop and take my mind off your story... this is good. The store is well written, with great imagery. You began to tell me about a culture I am totally ignorant of. This may not be the intellect of the average reader. For me, you could've gone into more detail regarding the very different courtship process in your country. Also, you were well able to describe yourself as a "good catch", without seeming too egotistical. This is tricky, you are to be commended, and you might consider embellishing some more. All these kinds of things are completely foreign to me. It's true, in America, some women could be considered to be "Fortune Hunters" -- the older we get, the more it seems to matter what's in the bank then in the bed. I'm no expert -- I'm on wife number two. I like your story very much. I felt myself longing to travel in India in this way -- how fantastic -- the green and pools left around after the monsoon season... very compelling.]
Reply:
Well, it is not I. It is the narrator of the story. But yes, some of my colleagues point out to me that I don’t have a big ego, so, may be because of that I was able to express it well. Whatever it is - good or bad; it is one's intrinsic nature.


I will answer some of your points through PM.
If you have any other comments or queries or suggestions, pl feel free to ask or PM.

Maxim


PS: I got this story published in a newspaper way back in 2002. After some editing, I have put it in lit net.