I entered platform 3 as the clock struck 5:10pm. I could see the usual bustle of vendors marketing their wares and middle aged women hurrying to the next platform to catch the express. Punit, the guard stood near the book stall enjoying a smoke with the owner. A little further, a toddler was running around on his fat little legs while his father resignedly chased him.
The humdrum of the station never failed to fascinate me with the potpourri of characters who seem different everyday and yet strikingly similar on closer observation. The carefree teenagers who spice up the proceedings with their loud, inane chatter, the worn women on their way back home from their daily drudgery, the worried frowns in the faces of middle aged men today seem like a replay of a scene from yesterday and the day before.
This is what drives my work as a rail engine, everyday.