It is hot and humid. Endless noise rises up from a swirl of people filling the waiting hall. Dozens of large fans whirr away, adding background noise. Occasional shouts punctuate unintelligible human chatter, and a female motormouth keeps making announcements that no one seems to hear.

Streams of people shuffle towards or away from the platforms. Some look confused, some expressionless, some worried. Oily faces, sweaty faces, tired faces. Not many smiles. Then you notice the other end; bums bulging and bums missing. Few physically fit bodies.

A dark, unshaven man stops to sell tea. He pours out the unappetizing liquid from a steel canister into tiny plastic cups, collects his coins and walks away.

Men and women hurry past. Women in black burkhas and stretch jeans. Men in white, some with skull caps. A young man hurries past, pulling two strolleys, followed by red shirted coolies pushing and pulling their luggage laden trolleys. A turbaned man walks by, smelling of sweat and grime from a long journey, bags slung on each shoulder. Families squat clumped together with bags and baggage. A man lies on his back, on the not so clean floor, lost in tired sleep. Crumpled plastic cups, wrappers and dirt clutter the wall corners and collect under the benches.

The female motormouth on the overhead speakers is very intrusive, finishing each sentence abruptly. You expect her to say something more. But she disappoints and irritates.

A new sound appears, growing louder. The hum of an approaching electric engine, pulling a train in. A hiss of compressed air. The end of yet another journey.

May 19, 2009