This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 38; the thirty-seventh edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is “The Woman on Platform number 10”
I was strolling at the New Delhi Railway station for over 2 hours, waiting for the Kanpur bound Shatabdi Express. Lately I got to learn that the train was delayed by 3 hours. Helplessly, I dawdled outside the New Delhi railway station, leering at the bystanders. Few minutes later, I left for the reservation centre where I saw a pool of people stranded. There was a complete mayhem as I tried to find my way inside amidst the crowds moving helter-skelter. During this process, I collided with several people of different sizes and shapes. This lot included many fragile women whose perfumes mesmerized me. I neatly organized my hair before I located a seat near the right corner of the reservation centre. I was wearing a dapper outfit dashing enough to impress girls. I wore my Ray ban sun glasses and sat on the seat adjacent to a 60 yr old woman. She looked at me as if I belonged to some alien planet. I scanned and observed a young girl of around 5, smiling and waving hands at me. I smiled back at her. I saw a cantankerous Muslim man, sporting a mullah beard outrageously involved in a verbal skirmish with a fellow passenger. The little girl’s attention was diverted and for once all eyes were glued on him. He was equally attacked by his victim who screamed abuses and curses at him. I sneered at them and head for platform number 10. I ruffled the little girl’s hair and bid her good bye. I was carrying my bag pack and a heavy luggage bag which made me feel uncomfortable. I took few pauses as I climbed the stairs. I waited for 5 minutes at the connecting bridge. I was visibly distracted by an ensemble of good looking adolescent girls who were walking towards me. I moved ahead, my eyes spotted a newly married couple cheerfully talking to each other. As I walked, someone pushed me from behind. The man, tall and stocky, looked behind and apologized. His face was craggy and sported a 4 day old stubble. He was followed by his wife and 3 young daughters each carrying a plastic bag. At a closer glance, I realized that the woman was holding a new born baby. “Be Careful!” I screamed at her.
The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Introduced By: VIPUL GROVER, Participation Count: 13