My GrandFather

I was sitting on the platform waiting for my train to arrive. I was heading off to Gaya (Bihar), where, I spent a significant part of my early life with my Nana and Nani.

I felt the hustle and bustle around me. People from all walks of life and of all age groups converted the station into a ‘museum of people’. One could spot rich, poor, old, young, teenager, infants, male, and female from all different corners of India. One could not help but notice their differences in appearance, language, attire, and body language. The air was filled with different frequencies of sound and in that indistinct chatter one could make out the twinkling of cold drink bottles, cry and wails of deserving infants, gossips of various flavor, loud call of self-employed entrepreneurs selling anything and everything under the sun, the sizzling of the mashed potatoes for the spicy aloo chat (Indian street food) and announcements meant for the passengers, to name just a few. There was a mobile book store nearby and it had various novels and magazines. The mosaic that the books formed depicted all hues of life- child care, self-help books, career, entertainment, politics, romance, thrill, adventure, crime, etc.