NS20

This wasn't a part of my routine at any point of my life yet it unknowingly grew on me. (Or, I grew on it.)

I wanted to tell just one story about this station and then I remembered another, until ultimately I realised there's an abundance of tales. Some of which aren't mine, some of which may or may not be true, some of which aren't even in my lifetime or the universe I am living in.

There's a mix of everything here, from a history of Jewish cemeteries to devotion sessions at nearby Catholic churches. Its very name was derived from the latter; Novem, the Latin word for nine, symbolising the prayers said for nine consecutive days.

Ghost stories, involving coffins and phantom trains. Some even claim seeing headless apparitions especially during the last hour of service, because who in their right mind would haunt in broad daylight and peak hours, right?

But you know me. I'm a very personal soul, so the stories that hang heaviest are my own ghosts. Unresting pasts, unexplained dreams, unfulfilled promises.

I know a boy who had to make this place home, along with its crowds and shoving commuters. He didn't want to become one of them with their lifeless eyes and impatience. So he stopped taking the train, escaping getting swept with the floods.

I know another boy who had to make this place home, the smell of the hospital and the heights of the twin towers. Their collision was at its peak, and the thought of his ex best friend being just next door irked him. So he stopped working there, and is now about to soar even higher than the towers of New Phoenix Park.

I know two other boys who had to make this place home, living on the remnants of the dead. Their masks were their only protection, music and each other their only company. It took them a month to realise the stillness of the world outside the station's walls. So they kicked a door open and jumped down, their torchlights accentuating the train tracks.

Even with stories that aren't mine to tell, it's evident that Novena is home. A shelter, a safehouse, even when these boys didn't want it by choice. They managed to leave, but its platforms and crowds continue to thrive.