Eight year old Krishna had opened his eyes on this very platform where his single mother begged for survival. He was habitual to noise, sound of whistling railway engines, and shouts of the hawkers who rushed towards the train that stopped there. Krishna was about five when he was initiated into begging by his mother. He would spread his open palms in front of the passengers who waited for their trains. The little boy’s innocent face and torn trousers and soiled shirt aroused pity and he often succeeded in earning twenty to thirty rupees per day. He would obediently bring that money to his mother who stored it in a black box which she always carried next to her bosom. She would give Krishna two rupees every evening so that he could eat the goodies of his choice.

At the age of five, Krishna’s vocabulary was limited to the words which his mother spoke and which he repeatedly heard from the mouths of the people around him. He did not like it when the Railway Police shooed the beggars away from the platform. They returned to the platform after an hour or so. That platform was their only world and they could not even think of going anywhere else.

Krishna had just once crossed the big road in front of the railway station when he was not well and his mother took him to a roadside doctor, a kind of herbalist. He liked the world outside that railway station but he did not have courage to step out of the station alone.

When he was five, one evening his mother fell sick. Her body was burning and the little Krishna did not know what to do. Once she asked for water and he ran toward the tap to bring water for her. It was not easy for him to carry a large bottle of water back. She remained still for two days, without eating anything, and, unfortunately, she died the third evening. Little Krishna did not understand what had happened.

He was playing near his mother’s dead body when he saw a few policemen approach him. He got scared and ran away from there. When he came back after about two hours, his mother’s body was not there. He looked in the direction of the fellow beggars who often talked with his mother but they were unable to make him understand that his mother had passed away. The word ‘death’ was not there in his vocabulary and it was not easy to make him understand. He began to look for his mother everywhere on the platform but without any result. He searched for two days and after that he abandoned his quest.

The fellow beggars had given him things to eat.

On fourth day, an elder boy told him to start begging. In the evening, the little boy had a few rupees in his pocket and he did not know what to do with the money. He gave that money to that elder boy. His senior provided him food and a place to sleep.

In the following two years, Krishna learned how to survive in this cruel world. Though he was seven, he seemed to be thrice mature than his age.

Having left his bench, he stretched his body and ran towards the public toilets. He had to hurry because he knew that a number of people would be standing in queue if he got late.

Having washed himself from the water from the public tap, he went towards the tea stall and ordered a cup of tea and a packet of biscuits. It was going to be his ration till midday. If he were able to earn some money through begging, he would enjoy delicious food at the restaurant at the platform, otherwise he would have to remain hungry till evening.

Unfortunately, the railway workers announced indefinite strike that day and all trains were stopped. It continued for three days. Little Krishna was very hungry because in last three days he was not able to earn even for food. He had tried to borrow some money from his beggar friends but no one helped him.

On the fourth morning, it was declared that the trains would start running in an hour. Krishna was starving and if he did not eat anything soon, he was sure that he would not be able to stand on his feet.

The news of the resumed train services brought back the hawkers and food sellers. Krishna was looking at the loaves of breads which were being stacked by the owner of the food stall on the platform. He could not resist the temptation and he picked a loaf of bread and began to run away from the platform. Soon he was running along the railway lines. The shopkeeper had noticed him and a few people were chasing little Krishna.

The little boy was sweating and panting; he wanted some place to hide. Suddenly, he saw a train approach. He wanted to go across the railway lines and leave the train between him and the people who were chasing him.

The whistle of the train subdued the last cry of the little boy who had fallen between the railway tracks. His body was transformed into crushed and minced meat. The loaf of bread lay a few feet away from him. No one was there to grieve over his death.