In the prime of summer, with the hot steam creating unbearable humidity, our train tore into the huge platform of Allahabad junction. The station was much bigger than any I had seen before, except that of Calcutta. I assumed that the Allahabad station was bigger because I did not get off at the Calcutta station on our way to and from Kalimpong. The combined hustle, bustle of the crowd of people coming from various parts of India, since Allahabad is an important railway junction and is connected to major cities like Delhi, Calcutta (Howrah), Mumbai and Madras, and the whistle and hissing of the trains, was daunting. We clung on to our dear mother’s hands while the coolies helped carry our two trunks of clothes, utensils, and bedding. We two looked like ragged dolls with disheveled hair and dirty faces. We did not have enough of food or drink for sometime and looked confused, uncertain of what to expect next.