“Somewhere between right and wrong, there is a garden, and I will meet you there.”
— Rumi
I was passing near the railway tracks in Lahore Cantonment when I suddenly noticed two trains approaching each other from opposite directions. Both were moving at their own pace. The clattering of wheels against the tracks, the rumble of the engines, and the rush of air as the trains sped forward created a scene that was difficult to ignore. Then, all at once, a loud sound echoed through the air. The two trains passed each other and continued in opposite directions.
I watched them disappear into the distance, and for a moment, I felt as though I were watching two people, once bound by the same attraction, moving away from each other after a disagreement. Both were firm in their positions, both travelling along their own paths, yet heading in opposite directions.
As I continued walking, observing the railway tracks closely, a member of the staff at the ticket booking office told me that trains no longer stopped at that platform. There had been a time when trains used to halt there, but that was no longer the case. The area around the station is now home to many well-known and prominent people. Perhaps, with the passage of time, the area’s changing significance and growing population had contributed to the end of train stops here.
For me, however, this place was more than just a railway station. It held memories of my childhood. We used to travel from the loco shed to this station, and our home was only a short walk away. Time changes places. Their liveliness fades, their purpose changes, and familiar scenes gradually disappear. Yet the memories attached to them often remain somewhere in the heart.
But perhaps it is better to return to the point where this reflection began.
As the two trains passed each other, a thought crossed my mind. Are disagreements between husbands and wives not sometimes like this? Two people who begin their lives as companions can, over a disagreement, become so firmly attached to their own opinions that instead of listening to and understanding each other, they begin moving in opposite directions.
Both believe they are right. Both have reasons to support their arguments, and both want to stand by their positions. In such moments, they may forget that the person standing before them is not a stranger, but someone with whom they once chose to share their life. A disagreement may begin with something small, but gradually, ego, stubbornness, and silence can create a growing distance between them.
The trains passed one another and continued towards their respective destinations, but human relationships are not always so simple. Distance in a relationship does not always emerge because people take different paths; sometimes, it develops because their attitudes begin to change.
Two people may continue living under the same roof, carrying out their daily routines and fulfilling their responsibilities, while an invisible wall of silence rises between them. Conversations become limited to necessities, responsibilities continue to be fulfilled, yet the warmth and ease that once made their relationship beautiful begin to disappear.
After all, disagreements are a natural part of life. How can two people, with different personalities, experiences, and ways of thinking, always see things in the same way? The real problem is not disagreement itself, but giving up on the effort to understand each other afterwards.
Standing by one’s opinion is not necessarily wrong. But is it always necessary to prove oneself right? Is it possible that the other person, too, may have a point that we fail to recognise simply because we are too determined to defend our own position?
When a husband and wife give each other time after a disagreement, listen with patience, and refuse to let their egos become greater than their relationship, many problems can be resolved before they grow into something bigger. Winning every argument is not necessary. Sometimes, preserving a relationship matters far more than proving a point. A gentle sentence, a softer tone, or the courage to admit a mistake can sometimes end days of resentment.
My thoughts returned to the trains. After completing their journeys, trains also return to a loco shed, where they rest. Their wheels stop turning, their engines fall silent, and they prepare for the next journey.
Human beings, too, spend their lives constantly travelling. Work, family responsibilities, raising children, social obligations, and countless worries keep them moving from one task to another. If there is no peace even within the walls of their own homes, where can they go to find rest?
Perhaps the beauty of a relationship lies in being more than just travelling companions. A husband and wife can become a source of comfort for each other. Respect can survive disagreement, the way back to one another can remain open despite anger, and the desire to win an argument need not overshadow the feelings of the person standing beside us.
Every person needs a place where they can put down the weight of their day, where they do not have to prove themselves right all the time, where someone listens to them, and where silence does not feel like estrangement. When two people can offer each other such a space, many of life’s difficulties become easier to bear.
Those two trains passing each other on the railway tracks of Lahore Cantonment eventually disappeared in their respective directions, but the scene stayed with me long after they were gone. I kept thinking about how often we, too, find ourselves standing face-to-face over something that may seem insignificant. Both people have so much to say, yet perhaps neither has enough time to listen.
Then another thought came to me. The tracks determine the direction in which trains travel, but in relationships, the way back to one another is not always closed. Sometimes, a gentle sentence, a brief conversation after a period of silence, or simply the presence of someone we love can reduce the distance between two hearts.
Perhaps this is one of the quiet beauties of life: we do not always have to move ahead of one another. Sometimes, walking at the same pace with someone we love is enough.
And so, I continued walking, my eyes still drawn to those railway tracks, carrying a simple thought with me: perhaps the most beautiful part of reaching a destination is not the arrival itself, but having someone beside us with whom we can find a little peace along the way.