The bag consisted of several frivolous things; some birthday greeting cards, some dried flowers and leaves wrapped in paper folds, candy and chocolate wrappers, many silk bands to tie on a brother's wrist during Rakshabandhan, 2 black and white photographs and a plastic case stashed with paper. No valuables were there, nothing useful as such. They now looked at the photographs. Both were very old and mostly taken by a 35 mm. Both the pictures had a boy and girl posing for them. The girl looked around 5 years of age and the boy not more than 8 years.

Their eyes now fell on the plastic case. That would be the only thing that might help. Shaurya gestured Amrita to take the lead and she open the zipper to take out its contents. The top folded paper was some kind of a drawing. The drawing materialized into a sort of painting by budding hand, they could make out some landscape and hills. It was dull; the colors have lost their brightness and mostly stuck to each other as they lay in folding for long; nothing more there. Their eyes now fell on the rest of the stack' neatly folded into almost squares, their whitish color paled over time and their sides yellowish. One or two thinned with decay such that ink had seeped to the other end of the paper and one can see a slanting handwriting with broken words from the other side. These were probably letters.

Amrita looked at Shaurya hesitating, but he nodded at her gesturing her to open the first. It was like opening a locked door forcefully, like unveiling someone's secret. She had never read another's letter like this and her hands trembled slightly as she unfolded it. If it were some other day, she would have resisted doing so and put the letter with the others where they belong, not to be disturbed. But today was no other day, today was a day of great loss and new beginning for her. It seemed very awkward, meeting a stranger and then looking through someone else's stuffs, but she let the feeling pass. The folds in the letter had become permanent lines across the unsteady script written with a pencil. The letters have faded along the folds and the paper dirty as the lead imprints everywhere from the script, making it somewhat difficult to understand. It looked like a letter written in a very immature hand, likely that of a child.

Amrita cleared her voice and read as lowly as possible, not to intrigue the people around. Shaurya shifted close to her so that their sleeves brushed. By now, they had forgotten that they were strangers; this was more of a treasure hunt quest of their childhoods. Amrita's swollen and tired eyes finally had brightened up a little. It was a letter from a sister to her brother. She read –

Dadabhai,

I drew the picture today. I drew the picture like Papa used to tell us. I have painted the hills purple. Can the hills be purple? Mother told me that you are going to another school. I don't like my new school here, I miss our school. I like to talk to you as we ride the school bus. But I have to go alone now. I don't like the big girls in it, they bully me a lot. I hate them and I hate this school.

Mother does not talk about you. She has taken all your photos from me. She gave away my bicycle to the night guard's boy because I won't ride it without you. I want to come back home. I don't like this home, it is small, I don't see sunlight, she closes the windows always. She is not home now. It is good. She won't know that I am writing a letter to you. She will take it from me and the picture too, if she finds out. Without the picture, I will not remember the place.

I want to grow up faster now, so that I can leave from here. I want to go to those hills. Will you go with me to search for the treasure? You have to be careful then. You need to grow up too, taller and stronger. You need to get a big gun with you and I will take a sword. There are robbers there, remember and that big fat tiger?

Write me a reply and tell me when can we start for the hills. I miss you and Baba.

Love,

Piya.

Tears welled up in her eyes as Amrita finished reading. She has never read something so nice yet painful ever. It hurt inside her thinking of the girl who wrote this. She thought of her brother and her childhood. How much is she going to miss him now? The little girl's longing seemed to have found way into her heart and it twisted with sorrow.

A friendly hand rested over her palm and she tried to look up. But what she could managed was "The girl must be missing her family so much" and she picked up one of the photos. She was quite certain that the girl in the picture was the author of this letter, and the boy her brother; they had some facial resemblance.

"Sure, she would have" Shaurya replied looking a little lost himself. Then he added, "This was written quite some time back".

"Hmm. Do you think she is with her brother now?"

"I hope she is, wherever they are now" he smiled at her, but his smile had a sadness that reflected Amrita's own feelings.

"What do we do with the bag then? I don't think that the little girl had put an address in this" she shook of her earlier thoughts and flipped the letter to check.

"I am not sure. Why don't we look through the other letters and see if something is there, what do you say?" he asked her back.

Amrita looks at the bag thoughtfully. It was best to leave this in the station office, so that whoever may have lost it would get a chance to retrieve it. She doesn't want to go through more private moments from somebody's life. She runs her hand over the contents of the bad. This time, she notices small brown paper pouch. Surprisingly, she had not noticed that when she searched the bag earlier. She picked it up; there was something heavy inside. She turned it upside down and something cold gathered in the cup of her hand. A gold chain with a pendant, a blue stone shining from the center of the pendant, the jewelry was certainly costly. She surely couldn't leave the bag at the station authority now. What if, the person had already caught a previous train and didn't plan to come back soon? She felt that Shaurya was right, they must look into the other letters and check for any addresses or phone numbers written. At least they could contact someone and inform about the missing possessions.

She shifted in her place, picked up another letter and offered it to Shaurya "Would like to read?" He denied politely "I think you would do a fairer job". The last chance to escape from violating someone's privacy is gone. She blinked and focused on the text. It read in a more neat hand this time –

Dadabhai,

I don't know why I am writing this for I will probably not post it. I want to, believe me. But I never heard from you in two years after we left. Are they treating you well or have you forgotten me? I called home few times, but someone else picked up. The lady told that they have sent you to boarding school. She didn't tell me which school. I didn't like the tone of her voice and I am sure she hates me. Is she the one who came with the others when they took away father?

I feel like crying almost every day and I bravely tell myself that I shouldn't. Father would be sad if he comes to know. Does he know about us, that we are separated? Why doesn't he come back? Yesterday, mother got a call from our uncle. I heard her talking about some papers. Then she was crying, she hid in the bedroom entire night and didn't speak to me. I think she hates me too. I know this is all my fault that father is gone and you too.

I wanted to go to our home, I really had the urge many times, I think I can manage by myself. I would take a bus after school at reach there. But then I would be late to return as it is quite far from my new house. Mother would surely come to know and it will hurt her very much. Every time I imagine her crying I don't want to go there.

But how do I see you then? I prayed to God last night asking for a favor that one day He lets me see you, whenever that day is.

I miss you.

Piya.

Amrita sat still after finishing the letter. The account was so vivid, she could feel the hurt and the treat the girl and her mother would have received. It was heartbreaking to know that someone could leave behind a pretty girl like that and take away her family from her. Her mother must have gone through a trauma. Why did the father leave them? The girl wrote that he was taken away. Where to?

She looked at Shaurya pain visible in her eyes. He looked at her passively, his eyes clear of any stirring in them, but his eyebrows creased as if he is thinking something deeply.

"There is no address here too. Why don't we just look at the beginning or end of the letters and see if there is any address?"

Shaurya looked dubiously as desperation rang in her voice. She went red in her cheeks and ears and picked at her fingernails, "I am sorry, I don't think I can read anymore".

As if breaking from a trance he promptly responded, "Please no, I am sorry that I insisted. Of course, you can't read more. It is very uncomfortable to read someone else's letter. I was stupid. You're right, let us look for addresses". He handed over a letter to her and took one himself and they looked through them. There were totally seven letters. The handwriting slightly varied from one letter to another, indicating more matured grip of the hand that wrote them. The last letter had an envelope lying in its heart. Thankfully, there was an address mentioned in it. Amrita was about to let out a sigh of relief, when she held her breath. The address was of Mumbai along with a phone number.

The receiver was some Ashutosh Bhattacharya. Was it a mere coincidence or something else? Something in her heart nudged her.

Shauryapoked her "What are you thinking? It's good that we got the address and anumber. Let's try the number though I doubt that whether it works", he pullsout his phone to dial the number. Suddenly the platform hummed with a loudmechanical sound followed by a shrill female voice over the microphone. "Ithink our time is up", he concludes and puts back the phone in his pocket.