An Indian Railway Station

The banshee shriek of arriving trains, The chug- chug sound of departing ones, The commotion and hullabaloo of swelling crowds, of incessantly falling footsteps, The rising haggle of blue clad porters, The screech of trolleys across tiled floors, The hurried departure and goodbyes of those heading for the sleeper coaches, The thud of falling boots of cops in khaki uniforms, The cries of children jolted out from sleep, The engine’s grate, The hiss and rush; A jumbled medley of scenes and raucous sounds A railway station never is still Always thronged by people, it is the haven for a floating population not only of daily commuters and long distance travellers, but of people who do not have a roof over their heads. As the evening train departs with a long whistle, the crowd vanishes making one wonder where the exodus of people have disappeared in seconds! The din subsides. The rush narrows. As the light dims, wayfarers who have no shelters come and occupy the empty corners They lay down their tired torsos on soiled sheets spread on the floor and soon wafted into sleep and glide into a world of oblivion seemingly complete but broken by disturbing dreams and the bite of swarming mosquitoes. As the daytime business is closed down, the vendors of fruits and snacks, of plastic baubles and stuffed toys, wind their way homewards. Then the night business commences, in the dark pockets around the station! A woman in heavy makeup, and heady perfume lands unseen from somewhere as driftwood on a lonely beach and waits here, at the appointed rendezvous for her prospective customer The railway station thus plays host to all receiving and seeing off thousands set to locations different and missions varied!