Short Paragraph on Railway Station in India
A railway platform in India looks very much like a road. How long and black like a road! And how wide, too! But a road is not so crowded. Everybody has to keep to the left. There is control over traffic. But on a platform people stand or sit and even lie down anywhere they like. What a madding crowd! The whole place looks like a village-fair. But even a village-fair is not so dirty. A platform, no doubt, is cleaned daily. But how long does it remain clean? Doesn’t it smell like a fish-market?
Is it not also noisy like a fish-market? Let a train enter the station and then see what happens. An express train enters the Indian Railway station roaring and breathing out fire. Everybody starts shouting. Coolies are shouting. Hawkers are shouting. Children are crying. Beggars are crying. Doors are opened and closed with a terrible sound. And, above all, there is the noisy whistle of the guard and of the engine. You like to run away from this hell. But how can you? Your train has not yet arrived. It is late by two hours. So, you have to wait on the platform.
How dull it is to wait for a train!
Even a sick-bed is not so dull. But you must not lose patience. You must keep waiting and watching. If you do not, how can you enjoy the pleasure of meeting your beloved? It is this hope that gives you a new life. So you forget your troubles and don’t mind the noise and smell around you. The platform, the, begins to look interesting. You move about or only stand and watch.
In the meantime, somebody cries up- “Train coming!” everybody gets ready. You, too, get ready and look about. But lo! It is only an engine, not your beloved you have been waiting for. How foolish you feel, then! So you sit down and keep waiting. How slow time passes! A minute moves like a year. And, the, at last your beloved arrives. How happy you feel! She gives you a place her heart. Your long waiting is rewarded. Then you don’t curse the dirty and noisy platform. The noise and hurry you think is only a sign of life. It has music of its own.