The Night Train at Deoli

The Night Train at Deoli As narrated by the girl with the basket It was one of those once-in-a-lifetime incidents that one experiences over the course of their life. I used to stay at Deoli when this happened. I was an orphan who lost my parents in an attack by some wild animals, and so I lived with my middle-aged aunty. We had acres of bamboo plantation so we decided to use those canes to make baskets as my aunt was a good weaver. But, then the question arose: Who would buy our hand-made baskets? Deoli was a small town where handmade baskets were quite common. So, I decided to sell these baskets at the one-place I knew (or I thought I knew) people would buy: the solitary railway platform! I was a girl who just hit my adolescence phase so it was quite an experience to go daily to the platform to sell baskets. Before I tell you the things I noticed there, let me give you an introduction as to what comprised the Deoli railway station. There was a mango tree, perha...