…I walked over and stood near some railway police who were standing chatting. The boy gave me a sideways glance as if to say “nicely played, foreigner”…
“does this train depart at 16:35 or 17:00”? “Yeah, yeah, 16:35. Just like your ticket.” “But the departure screen shows 17:00”. “Yeah, it’s 17:00, just read the screen”.
I felt a firm but gentle push in my back that propelled me through the mass of humanity inside the train and onto the platform
I pulled out a couple of 10 rupee notes, but the little man said disapprovingly “it’s expensive to keep this mosque maintained”…
the Station Master looked at me like I was an idiot, “yes, TC… Ticket Collector”
What do you mean 550 rupees? You said 100!
It was like one of those moments in a Western movie, when the bad guy walks into the saloon; the piano player stops and everyone turns to look.