The Moving Train

The Kalkamel train is a steady vein of adventure that pulses with life through the vast villages and grasslands of Bengal. Individuals from all walks of life looking to reach their desired goals and destinations sit next to strangers that will soon become family during the twenty-two hour trip to Delhi. Almost all trains in India provide general class seating, second-class seating, and for the overnighters, a second-class three tier sleeper, or a second-class A.C. sleeper. The second-class sleeper seems to be where all the bustling unfurls with the many beggars, musicians, and hijras (men dressed as women) that parade through asking, and sometimes demanding for donations.
Each stop the train makes welcomes a cash opportunity for the dozens of roaming snack stands that anxiously await for the train to pull up to their platform. With all enthusiasm they heave themselves up the stairs and down the aisles calling out the names of their goods. “Cha! Cha!” says the little man with the deep nasally voice. “Chips! Chips!” yells the rounded belly man. “Pani, bottle! Pani, bottle!” shouts the middle-aged mustached man. The bobbing heads wrapped in colorful Indian blankets peek out of their sleepers to call out the name of their designated snack as they reach for their money. In the next compartment a group of Muslims elegantly sip Chai and comb their pointy beards.
As the train chucks along, the windows become displays of a landscape beautifully polluted by dusty trees, hay stacks, faded skies, multifariously shaped houses, and the colorful figures of people passing stool in the fields. Soon, a congregation of middle-aged Bengali men erupt in folk songs, clapping and harmonizing to the fluctuating tunes of their songs. The day seems to go by slowly yet there isn’t lack of stimulation, nor a deficiency of snacks for the passenger of the Kalkamel train.