Adjusting my aching bums on the over-bridge’s stairs, a half functioning headphone playing random music in the left ear trying its best to distract me. The right ear is busy listening to the random musings that the other fellow passengers go through or are being made to. ┬áStaring with tiring, curious eyes to the virtual groups that people form among themselves. Each different from the other set, yet echoing symmetrical structures.

There are a series of passengers coming down the over-bridge, carrying something or the other with them. Baggage, of their material properties and some on their mind. Thoughts flowing out of their head as they head down to wait for the train that will take them home or probably away from one. Students, after a hectic day in their schools, colleges, coaching classes, which grind them like anything, going back to their places. Thinking probably of “how to better save time and invest the same in their never ending courses”. Or where they are going wrong, devising ways to achieve the “target” set by their parents or on some rare occasions by themselves. Expectation’s sword hanging in front of them. The stairway ends onto the platform and they mix among the many others.
Others, some fresh-out-of-college fellows, striving hard to make a career for themselves. Standing exhausted after working for hours, smiling with a little effort on the acquaintances that reciprocate the same weary smile. Their smiles are hard to decipher, a ting of sadness perhaps on not achieving something or not having worked hard enough to get the required taste of success that they had desired. Perhaps thinking of getting rid of all these thoughts and making a life of the available situation and resources. Am I reading too much  here ? Probably yes. Or Just echoing shades of my own self through them.
An old couple sitting midway down the stairs. Their tiring eyes examining the people that is crossing their way and mixing into the crowd. The couple do not speak to each other just casually look at each other for a moment, may be telling each other or remembering their days with that glimpse. Probably ruing of what they might have achieved or maybe feeling content with themselves as to the fact that they didn’t had to go through too much struggle to earn their bread.
Mind never lets us be content. One always wants to achieve more. Can we term it as greed ? The greed to make ourselves achieve everything that comes our way or continuously comparing ourselves with others’ achievements?
This was just a normal day at the railway station and one of its platform, probably depicting our life’s complexities in a rather exaggerated tone.