I put up my things in a small box and asked the servant to bring a rickshaw for station.
Little children were grazing their cows and buffaloes.
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As such, they are very fond of making journeys frequently. I have frequently travelled by bus with my parents to different places. My father bought tickets for mother and me as also for himself.
It is not without much bustle and excitement that all the travelers, after taking their tickets and having their luggage weighed, get themselves and their many parcels packed into the compartments of the carriages, and it is a great relief when at last the bell rings and the train with a loud whistle glides smoothly out of the station.
Let us suppose that you are now comfortably or uncomfortably settled in your seat.As the poorer people of India have little regard for time, long before the moment of departure many of them have come to the station, and may be seen waiting patiently in clusters round their pots and pans and other luggage.Besides the actual passengers, the station is also crowded with those who have come to see their friends off. In the way I told my sousing all the experiences of the journey. We had an occasion to make friends with some boys in the cabin. We shared some eatables and it was good to converse with them. We reached the Kamalapur railway station by a taxi. I gazed and gazed at the houses, trees and meadows. When we stood on the platform to wait for the train there were thousands of passengers with lot of luggage; children, women , youth and old were all eager to board the train for Jammu. The people seemed happier than the urbanites probably because the life did not seem to be so complex as we experience. We took many cups of tea and enjoyed some seasonal fruits sold there. I and some of my friends decided to go to my sister’s house in Chittagong by train. Then the train began running through the green field of the rural areas. Last Sunday I had an occasion, since I with my friend Satish had planned to visit Vaishanv Delhi Railway Station well in advance and after staying in the queue for about half an hour we got the tickets. Good houses, roads, schools and colleges, markets and bazaars were seen everywhere. The rural India seemed to be prosperous with all urban facilities available with them. We got down from the train and went to my sister’s house by a taxi. Even at big stations and junctions, it halted only for a few minutes.When a large mail train is about to start, a railway station is generally a scene of considerable confusion. There came an invitation from my maternal uncle at Allahabad to join the marriage ceremony of his son. I went to the booking office to buy a ticket for myself. He gave me some money and many instructions about the ceremonies. I reached the station one hour before the time of the arrival of the train.