I saw a man having a fit in the train. He was looking into my eyes, and I met his tired, dilated & ashen gaze. I was expecting him to die. And nothing in me moved, my insides didn’t churn, my heart rate didn’t change, I felt calm. He coughed and collapsed on the floor. The song in my headphones stopped and I heard someone asking me to pick him up. I did, offered him water. He refused to drink or eat anything. He looked at me, unashamed of his age or ailment and then put his face in his palms. I sat next to him, not feeling pity or empathy. I kept thinking that if he had died, they would’ve thrown him out at the next station, the train would’ve stopped for a minute longer to mourn him and before anyone could notice, started off to keep time.