One fine morning....

I opened my eyes and saw I was in a train and not the requirement room of Hogwarts hiding from the bombings at Pakistan's Quetta. Oh the meaningless sleep.I noticed the train had fewer and different people than I saw last night.I asked one of them if there was time for kanpur station. "kanpur gaya bhaiya bahut der pahele." WTF!I came to know I am about 100kms away. With a perplexed look people continued their talk .It was 5 in the morning. I saw outside it were clouds all over and a diffused light could be seen announcing advent of the day. What a fool I must be. I am late ...and then I thought "For what m I late?". It were vacations and I am going to an 'unknown station' . A cool breeze was brushing the hair. After an hour the train halted with no sign of a station. I saw a passengers train across ready to take the tracks for the opposite direction. I asked an old man if that train would go to kanpur central. He told me it does but would take about 2 hours to reach. With my small bag on the shoulders I boarded the empty passengers train.
There was only one man inside sitting by the window. Before I could choose a seat the train started . I sat across the man as I watched my express train going away from me.The man was in his fifties, wearing a yellow shirt with an off-white pyjama. he had mustache ,half beard and a rustic look. He stared at me for a while and asked where I wished to go. I told him I missed my station and want to reach kanpur central. He told me the train is mainly for the milkmen .I inquired if I am not supposed to be sitting in that compartment. He looked at me and smiled. He pacified me that the milkmen would not mind sparing a seat for me. He had quite a different dialect but fully understandable. I saw outside my window which had no frame for being an emergency relief. The breeze started flushing my face with water and in no time it started pouring. It was cool as I saw rain striking the stones on the tracks and the field across. If one passes the vast fields of Ganga plains during rains he can never forget the refreshing smell of soil. Continuous tilled farms with mangoes laden trees in between is for welcoming the monsoon.Men and women sowing rice in the knee-dip water filled paddy fields came across.A few moments and I could see the vista of farmers silhouetted against the dark clouds. The rainfall was heavy and the man across lowered the glass pane to cover half of his window. The train started slowing down. It was about to stop completely when some voices became louder and about a dozen milkmen thronged the coach.The train suddenly got life.
They were drenched and before settling down they arranged their big milk cans all across the compartment. Some of them took out their shirts and hanged anywhere they could find a place. Train started and they started drying themselves . Some of them were shouting names and inquiring about families' well being from the people sitting at the other end of the coach. Others opened their milk cans. In no time the air was filled with smell of fresh milk. The person across me was watching me. He started telling me the mundane activities of the milkmen . I inquired if they all are going to kanpur or some place between. As I expected they all had to deliver the milk at some or the other contractor in kanpur. I was feeling hungry and remembered I had a full box of burfi in my bag. I never thought burfis in the morning could ever taste so good. I passed some to the people sitting in the compartment. One of them told me they could cook much better sweets than I had. The train did not even catch its full speed when the brakes were put again. This time some school going youngsters also boarded with the milkmen. All drenched in their uniforms they settled down.Two girls and three boys sat the other side . After discussions and gossips about everything they went through the day ,the voice of the milkmen could be heard again. I realized one of the girls was looking at me. Through the corner of my eye I could see her . She wore a cold look wanting to tell me that I am an alien and should get off the train. Thank the gods looks do not kill! I swayed to the window side and watched the fields again for some time.The clouds were rumbling and mustering for heavier down pour.I saw a swing ,roped in a mango tree, hanging down waiting for someone to just give a push. In the evening girls must be having fun there. I tilted my head to see the girl still keeping her eyes affixed at me . I wondered if she actually wanted to kill me. The train stopped .The school group left and life was good again. Two peacocks were roaming in a field , kids under a tree were throwing all they could find to bring mangoes down. The images of the campus came flooding and to my surprise I heard a voice "Kuchh din pahele jab pradhanmantri aaye the yahaan kisi school me tab mayawati ko bhi aana tha par use mana kar diya gaya". The politics cannot leave any train's compartment without some discussion.
I saw the station of Chakheri and knew I am about to reach the central. Some time later milkmen were ready to jump off the train and before it came to a hault the train was empty. I got down to see a rush and muddy platform. The rain stopped and even at eight in the morning the jostling crowd could be seen. The beautiful journey ended. I took an auto-rickshaw ,kept thinking about the last two beautiful hours. It was an unexpected beautiful journey. I never thought sleeping late and missing out the destination station could give such a refreshing experience. The rain started again and I was at the gates of IIT Kanpur.