"It would take about one and half hour to reach Charles de Gaulle" informed the black women sitting behind the ticket window in her heavily French accented English.

"No probs" replied Vitthal and headed towards the metro platform. He was going to the airport from Passy, a metro station in the posh Paris area of Lambale. The Taxi as always is a costly option in Paris so he decide to move well ahead of the flight so that even the sleepiest metro wont miss it.

He boarded the train and settled himself comfortably on the first available seat. Sitting on his left was an old lady wearing a tanned Casaco and a brown turban looking piece of cloth on her head.'May be an Algerian' thought Vitthal. She was looking outside the window and was lost in her own dream. Sitting infront of him was an middle aged white man, with lines of burden over his face and forehead and was intently reading the morning news paper. Next to him was a girl, in her twenties, with typical tight jeans and short t-shirt....with an oversized belt. She had a novel in her hand and was sumerged in it. Vitthal had always liked this habit of the city of lights, wherever you go in buses, metros, trains...people are always reading and lost in their books....as if self indulgance is the perpetual fashion.

As the train moved towards the suburbs, the crowd started receding....his immediate loss was the old women, two stops later the girl also left. Now he and the middle aged man were the only two left. On the next stop the middle aged man sprang up from his seat and moved towards the door.

Vitthal immediately noticed that a black coloured purse lying on the seat vacated by the man. He wanted to call but the man was already out and doors were closing.

'What should I do?....should I pick it up and give it to the police...no no i have a flight to catch.......why should I bother.....poor chap......he wont get it back for sure....even if i dont pick it up he would loose it so why shouldnt i keep it with myself......come on how can you even think that.....its size tells that it must be having around 300 Euros and looks like it has the metro pass also...i can atleast use the metro pass who would notice......no its wrong...come on just dont look at it.........'.....he tried looking outside the window but the purse was like a sharp knife stuck in his brain...good or bad...right or wrong...at times even a crooked piece of leather can be the centre of  the whole moral dilemma on this earth...........

the train stopped with a thud and the doors opened.....a man in his late thirties zipped inside the compartment and sat on the 'hot' seat. Vitthal's heart missed a beat, the man was now holding the purse in his hands.....'how did he managed it?'...in a fraction of a second he occupied the seat and was able to pick up the purse also. The man was wearing an old black coat with rugged edges and a dark green jeans, unshaven but atheletic....now he was holding the purse in his hands......as if trying to analyse it or perhaps trying to see if the owner is still around to claim it......

Vitthal saw him in his eyes...but the man immediately turned to the other side.

'Bastard'..should i tell him to give the purse to me...or should i call the police.....

the train stopped at the next stop and the man rose to leave.....

Vitthal wanted to stop him but somehow the sound didnt appear from his throat......

the doors closed again................

© Shashank Vikram