Travelling through the slums had left us shell shocked again. We had arrived back in Delhi in the morning, spent all day with the ASHA Deep Foundation and were to meet with the rest of the group at the hotel before moving on again.

Being crushed on the metro had just become another of those experiences that India just threw at us. At each step you felt it could not be ramped up any more, and then it did, and then it did it a bit more.

We met up with the others who were in good spirits as they had found a pizza restaurant. My mind was so full that I barely took in what they had done.

As if under the spell of perpetual motion, we went from the hotel to the Delhi train station to get on the train for Kalka.

I don’t know if we had just got used to the mass of people but it did seem easier to move within the throng of people. Maybe it was later, but it was still busier than any station I had witnessed before or since in any other country.

There are 16 platforms and when the trains come in the passenger lists are pasted to the wall and you can find your way to the correct carriage.

We gathered on the platform awaiting the SHTBDI 12311 train to Kalka and our onward trip to Shimla and the foothills of the Himalayas. And we waited, And we waited.

Walking up the platform somebody in an official uniform said that it would be a couple of hours late. You have to remember that these trains travel the length of the country and can be in motion for days on end.

We gathered in a group, sitting on the platform floor. There was more interest in us here, men would come and stare at the girls, so we formed a circle with the girls inside and the boys on the outside.

As night came on, the monkeys in the rafters became more vocal and it was an amusing sideshow to watch them. Unfortunately the other wildlife were the rats who were growong bolder moving out of the shadows and looking for food.

We tried to find what information we could on our phones. A group of old men stood near us staring at this group of westerners sat on the floor.

Trains came and went on the platform opposite. We watched in disbelief as people surged to the front and rear carriage, where I presumed the cheapest seats were. Babies were passed overhead, bags and food thrown forward.

Families gripped hold of each other to ensure they were not split up. The trains would go on time no matter if there were still people trying to get onboard. There seemed an order in the chaos, this was the reality of Indian trains.

I sat sideways to the opposite platforms. I was talking to one of the girls as we watched the scrum of people trying to board a train. It started to pull away. An older and younger woman started to run from the front of the train to the rear as it started moving. I was not really watching them but as they held hands I thought I saw them fall from the platform and under the train. It did not register what I thought I had just seen. I looked at the student, our eyes asking the question but not knowing if it had been real…

I turned my back and was not in a position to want to know what had happened. I still do not know to this day if it really happened as I remember or not.

Reports came in that the train would be fours late, then six and then eight. It did arrive, after eight hours of us waiting for it on that platform. The rats got closer, the congestion eased, but we boarded and were on our way north to the cooler edges of the Himalayas.