Station Announcement:
"Attention passengers entering non-ticketed zones: memories may replace maps. Proceed with full heart."
Old Delhi Railway Station rose before them like an ancient beast — iron ribs, stone spine, and a pulse that had not stopped for over a century.Trains screeched in and out, brakes crying like wounded metal.Vendors shouted over one another.Passengers rushed like waves, colliding, separating, swallowing space.
But Platform Eleven was nothing like the others.
It sat at the far end of the station — quiet, dimly lit, brushed by the shadow of an overhead bridge.An unspoken territory.A refuge.A warning.
Ravi walked slightly ahead, his steps confident despite his fragile frame.
"Children used to gather here," he said softly."Runaways. Lost ones. Those who didn't know where else to go."
Kannan held the sketchbook tightly against his chest.
Arun walked close enough to steady him without drawing attention.
Sara stayed behind them, silent but protective.
Arjun and Basil observed carefully.Nish and Leena scanned every corner, every face, every sound.
Ananya didn't lift her camera once.She didn't need to.Some moments refused to be captured.
1. The Chalk Circle
They stepped into the neglected zone of Platform Eleven.
Shadows.Broken benches.Stray dogs curled under them.A group of boys huddled around a fire made from torn cardboard.
Ravi pointed toward a dusty patch near the wall.
"He used to sit here," he said quietly."Always drawing."
Arun knelt.
"What is this?" he whispered.
A faint chalk outline — the same circle seen in his earlier sketch.
Inside it, tiny lines.Not random.Deliberate.
A compass.
North.South.East.West.
Kannan whispered, breaking:
"He was trying to find me."
Sara placed a steady hand on his shoulder.
Ravi nodded.
"He said if he stayed inside the circle, Appa would come to the right direction."
Arun blinked back tears.
"For a child to believe that…"
Arjun murmured, "Faith is the only compass some children have."
2. The Woman at the Stall
A middle-aged woman selling chai nearby observed them intently.
She approached slowly.
"You're looking for someone," she said in a half-whisper.
Kannan steadied himself.
"Yes," he said. "My son. Akshay."
She studied his face.
Then nodded.
"I remember him."
Kannan stiffened.
"You… you saw him?"
"Yes. A small boy. Thin. Always hungry. Always watching passengers. Sometimes sketching."
Kannan's breath caught.
"Do you know what happened to him?" Sara asked gently.
The woman exhaled, looking away for a moment.
"He didn't stay long."
"Why?" Arun asked.
"Because someone came."
Kannan's breath stopped.
"Who?" he whispered.
She hesitated.
"A man."
Arun's heart thudded painfully.
"A man…?" Nish echoed.
She nodded.
"A man in a khaki shirt. Not police. Railway staff."
Arjun frowned sharply.
"RPF?" (Railway Protection Force)
She shook her head.
"No. Not RPF. Someone else. He claimed he was taking lost children to a 'safer place.'"
Kannan's voice broke into a whisper:
"What did Akshay do?"
"He refused at first," she said. "But the man insisted. Spoke kindly. Gave him biscuits. I saw the boy trust him."
Arun clenched his fists.
"And then?"
She shook her head slowly.
"I never saw him again."
Kannan staggered back.
Sara caught him before he fell.
But the woman wasn't finished.
"There's something else," she said."He left something behind."
Arun blinked."What?"
The woman reached under her counter and pulled out a small cloth pouch — old but preserved.
"I kept it," she said."Something told me it mattered."
She handed it to Kannan.
His hands trembled violently.
He opened it.
Inside was—
A charcoal pencil.Worn to half its size.Used until the very end.
Arun whispered:
"That was his."
Kannan clutched it like a lifeline.
"My boy… you were here… you were so close…"
3. The Shadow of a Uniform
Before they could ask another question, a small voice tugged at Arjun's sleeve.
A boy — maybe ten — stood there with wary eyes.
"I know about him," the boy whispered.
Everyone froze.
Sara knelt to his level.
"Akshay?" she asked gently. "Do you remember him?"
The boy nodded.
"A long time ago. Before I came here. The man in the khaki shirt took him."
Kannan's voice shook.
"Where did he take him?"
The boy pointed behind the tracks.
"To the old yard. The one with the broken sheds. The place where the RPF say not to go."
Arun's breath caught.
"Why there?"
The boy's voice lowered.
"That's where lost children go first… before anyone decides what to do with them."
A heavy silence fell.
Nish exchanged a glance with Arjun.
Sara exhaled slowly.
And Kannan whispered, terrified:
"Is he… alive?"
The boy shrugged softly.
"I don't know. But…"He pointed toward the wall — the one where the chalk circle sat.
"He came back once."
Kannan's heart stopped.
"What?" he whispered."He came back?"
The boy nodded.
"Yes. For one night. He sat inside the circle. He cried. He said Appa didn't come."
A sound escaped Kannan — a broken, crushed whisper.
The boy continued:
"He left before sunrise. He wrote something on the wall, then left again with the man in the khaki shirt."
"What did he write?" Nish asked, voice shaking.
The boy pointed to a far corner.
"There. Under the peeling paint."
Arun ran ahead.
He brushed dust off the wall.
And slowly…
letters emerged.
Uneven.Childlike.Written with the last of a charcoal pencil.
It said:
"Appa, I will wait where children sleep under the red light.Maybe you will pass there."
Arun's breath vanished.
Sara's face paled.
Arjun closed his eyes.
Ananya whispered, horrified:
"That's… that's a red-light district."
Nish nodded grimly.
"Yes."
Leena whispered:
"He went to find his father through places no child should ever go."
Kannan collapsed to his knees.
Arun caught him, holding him tightly as he shook.
"He went everywhere," Kannan sobbed."Everywhere… alone… because of me…"
Sara knelt beside him.
"Kannan," she whispered, voice steady despite the tremor,"You cannot change the roads he walked.But you can be on the road he walks now."
Kannan pressed the charcoal pencil and the umbrella to his chest.
"Where do we go next?" he whispered.
Nish answered with quiet finality:
"To the place he mentioned."
Arun nodded fiercely, wiping his tears.
"We follow him."
The city hummed around them — trains roaring above, voices shouting across platforms, dogs barking, engines growling.
But through all of it…
One direction emerged.
One next piece.
One terrifying but necessary destination.