Boarding A Train

Boarding A Train

Essay Writing about Uses Of Boarding A Train By Alifye

     Last year, I had a memorable experience of forcing my way into a lower class compartment of an express train. I think I will never be able to forget it. A full year has not dimmed its memory. I remember it in every detail, as if it had happened only yesterday.

     A friend of mine had invited me to Rawalpindi and unfortunately. I had accepted the invitation, although I had only a few rupees in my pocket. I tried to borrow some money but no one came to my help. All i could borrow was a leather suit-case which my brother lent me on the condition that would replace it if it got damaged. 

     One fateful morning, I packed my clothes and some old magazines in that suit-case, and went to the station. I bought a lower class ticket and went into the waiting room. The train was late by two hours.

     At Last, the train arrived. I picked up my suit-case and ran to the platform. A porter stopped me and offered to carry my luggage for ten rupees. I told him to some other patron for I was young and strong enough to carry my suit-case. One again I rushed towards the train. But it was not a simple matte. The platform presented almost a battle scene. There were hundreds of people in every direction. They looked like a defeat army running for their lives but finding no way to escape.

     After a silent prayer to Allah, I jumped into the arene. I had not taken tow steps when a very fat man bumped straight against me, and sent me in a flying somersault. When I came back to the ground. I struck against a tall elderly gentleman. He staggered like a man mortally wounded, and his umbrella, brief-case and a fruit basket went flying in all directions. Before he could know what had happened to him. I had slipped through his legs.

     Now I was caught between two crowds trying to force their way in opposite directions. I was almost crushed between the two. My suit-case had been pulled and crushed out of shape. Then a strong wave of people swept me off my feet, and the next moment I was standing before a lower class compartment.

     My ordeal had not ended. The door was blocked by a large group of people who attempted to get in simultaneously. At that time. my friend. the porter. who had met me earlier, came to my rescue he repeated his previous offer. This time I gratefully accepted it. He took hold of my shoulders and after a long struggle hurled me over the shoulders of the crowd. and the next moment I was inside rubbing my bruised knees and elbows.