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The evening train rolled slowly through the rain-soaked countryside while small lights flickered inside distant homes. A child near the window counted electric poles one by one, losing track whenever thunder cracked across the sky. Across the aisle, an old man carefully folded a newspaper that carried stories of elections, cricket victories, and markets rising again. The smell of cardamom tea drifted through the compartment as vendors moved from seat to seat calling out their prices in tired but practiced voices. Some passengers slept with their heads against backpacks, while others stared silently into the darkness beyond the glass.

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