I met you on a Sunday or a day before that. I don’t remember. These days it’s easy to forget. You were alone on that train. You seemed lonely but when you smiled, your eyes glittered. When you got on board, everyone stared at you as if you were an alien. But don’t worry, I liked you. You sat opposite to me and embraced me with a broad smile. I smiled back. By the window, there was a Mother who was playing with her son and feeding him parathas. You looked at them full of hope for some love. The mother felt uncomfortable so she went away right across us ignoring your glistening eyes full of love. Then you looked back at me and I could see the sadness behind that smile. Hopelessness spread across your face. Your eyes glittered from tears. You looked out of the window. I guess you missed your mother. I didn’t know who you were or how to talk to you. Anyhow, I gathered the courage to ask if you were okay. You nodded with your broken smile and asked for water. After that, it felt like you wanted to talk so I continued talking. You informed me that you lived with some kids and tried to earn money because you didn’t have any parents. Then, you started talking about your friends and your life. As a kid, you knew so much about this terrible world. You enjoyed talking. You were looking for someone who would listen to you. We talked for about half an hour and then my station came. I wish I could have stayed. As I stood up, you followed me to the door to say goodbye. I got down. The train started moving while you screamed “Bye Didi” with a broad smile as kids frequently do. You looked so happy. It has been years since that day. I wish I had written down your name or clicked a picture with you. I could have at least asked you about your address. I haven’t forgotten you yet I can’t remember your face. We, humans, wait for these moments to happen often and yet, when it does, we forget to ask the details and only remember what that moment made us feel. I still think about you.