The time at Railway Station.


I hear the faint whispers of hushed conversations around me. ‘Whoever it is, they are not talking to you.’ a small voice says to me. So as I try to go back to sleep…WHAM, I’m jolted awake by the loud horn of the passing train. And as I try to bring my heart-rate down, I get to know the bearings of the current place I am in. And I cannot believe it…I’m at the railway station at night time.

How the hell did I get here?’ that’s the first thought which struck me. And then I realized, I’m here to pick a friend of mine who is late…judging by the time now. So here I am… waiting! But all the while waiting, I cannot help but feel as spectator watching the human interactions unravel itself.

Few people are waiting for the train to arrive, checking their watch with an anxious expression, maybe because the train is running little late. The jingling of locks and chains are providing a certain kind of music, which if listened carefully is soothing and the hawker who is trying to sell them is getting unsuccessful though. But the girl with a basket of oranges is doing a great business. That little one does have a loud voice!

A rustle of papers in the platform and a sudden instinct of train arrival is felt all around. A collective sigh of relief is passed among the crowd. And as the train arrives, the scene before me changes in an instant. The silent night with occasional announcements turn to some kind of beast waking up itself. People rushing out of train before it even stops, as if they are trying to escape from it. And lo and behold, one of them is my late friend who has finally arrived! As we come back home, I can’t stop thinking about the railway station which turned into some kind of sleeping giant back again as the crowd dispersed. Nothing but the rustle of papers can be heard from a distance now.


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