By Sushant Agarwal
Published on | May 26, 2025
Remember the thrill of walking to the station, clutching your bag, hearing the train's whistle — a grand childhood adventure about to begin.
Blue berths, metal bar windows, slow-turning fans, and heads leaning out of windows, chasing the wind. This was comfort in its rawest, realest form.
Nothing thrilled us more than tunnels—the sudden darkness, muffled sounds, and pounding hearts waiting for the light to return.
Parents narrating tales, pointing at rivers and fields — the world outside became a live storybook.
“Chai! Samosa!” — Every halt was a feast. Hot snacks. Dusty trays. Unfiltered joy.
Newspapers unwrapped to reveal puris, aloo sabzi, and mom’s love packed in every bite.
From sharing seats to sharing life stories — unknown uncles and aunties felt like family by journey’s end.
AC coaches were rare dreams. Most traveled in crowded sleepers or generals, with heat and noise, while AC felt like a world apart.
Clickety-clack, clickety-clack… The train sang us to sleep, cradled in its steady embrace.
Stretching legs, spotting familiar faces, and waving goodbye to a journey that felt too short.