Busy Train station

Hello reader, I believe that it is not only the quality of writing of the writer but the visualization, curiosity, imagination and interpretation of the reader that makes any piece of writing special and magical. So, thank you for deciding to read this descriptive writing written by me during my 9th grade. It describes a busy train station.

Train Station

Youngsters put their bag in front of them, cautious of thieves who could easily abscond in the crowd.one could easily be mistaken as they looked like a pregnant lady. The tiny children were effortlessly carried by their mums hand and moving crowd whereas the old people waited behind for the crowd to diffuse in the train.

Siting there, I pondered deeply over the meaning of life, the life of the crowd, the stall owners, and the old people. Was life supposed to be so gruelling? Or was it supposed to be relaxing and royal as mine? I started doubting myself but then I realised, they are the hardworking people who will put their blood sweat and tears to build a palace for their family, like my dad.

The loose tiles below were beating up and down like the hearts of the busy people on the train station. I was sitting beside the pillar, waiting for my train. The trains whizzed by on the tracks, in fleeting moments, difficult to catch sight of. Seeing this scene, a foreigner would assume a natural disaster had occurred and everyone is rushing here and there, saving their precious lives; but here the mumbaikars were rushing to save their rides and go to their workplaces.

The seeming endless crowd would put their blood and sweat to catch the train while the stalls on the station would entice the drained people waiting for their train with their gift of gab."Garam garam samosas will energise you in seconds, only 10 rupees" yelled a stall owner just besides me. A hot and spicy aroma diffuses from the hot frying pan but the crowd was very busy to look there.

A deafening honk poked in my hears and I came out of my thoughts, by the time I was lost in my thoughts, the crowed had disappeared, and there she was! My mom called me out and I entered the empty first-class train. Thank god mom came to my rescue from the daunting and head-aching crowd!

As I peeked out of the window, a new crowed came running. Although I had been on the station for only a few minutes, I have learned a lot about life which I could never learn if I would have been in my own bubble.