​A Visit to a Busy Railway Station: A Descriptive Experience

​A Visit to a Busy Railway Station: A Descriptive Experience

A Visit to a Busy Railway Station: A Descriptive Experience

​A Visit to a Busy Railway Station: A Descriptive Experience

[Notes: Name of the station-scenes of confusion: unruly crowd-porters, hawkers, beggars-unruly scene before the ticket counters-scene of confusion when a train is put into the platform.]


The other day I visited the Howrah Railway Station. What I saw there was a scene of confusion. The whole station was flooded with men, women and children. They moved up and down in the most disorderly manner. They spat on the floor of the station, though there were spit-boxes at fixed places. Here and there were seen groups of persons talking to one another. Now and then somebody's pocket was picked and consequently a hue and cry was raised.


Porters came in and went out with heavy loads on their heads. The time of arrival and departure of different trains was continuously announced through loudspeakers. Hawkers cried with shrill voice to attract buyers. Beggars hung on to every gentleman looking person till they were given something. A small crowd of people were seen in front of a book-stall. Smartly dressed young men and ladies turned over the pages of film magazines and political periodicals there. Long queues were seen before ticket counters. The persons in the queues went on jostling and pushing. Often a well-dressed woman thrust herself through a queue at the ticket counter and went away shortly. after, looking as if she had conquered a battle.


The scene of all the scenes was seen when a train was put into the platform. Then there surged up a huge crowd of passengers and they all rushed towards the platform like mad elephants. Some jumped into the moving train, some threw their bags into its compartments through windows.

About the author

Irisha Tania
"আমি সেই মেয়ে, যে শব্দে বাঁচে। কলম আমার অস্ত্র, আর কাগজ আমার স্বপ্নের আকাশ। প্রতিটি অনুভব, প্রতিটি চিন্তা আমি সাজিয়ে রাখি অক্ষরের গাঁথুনিতে। কখনো গল্পে, কখনো কবিতায়, আবার কখনো নিঃশব্দের ভেতরে। আমি লিখি, কারণ লেখার মাঝে আমি নিজেকে খুঁজে পাই। …

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