So, there I was, sitting on the edge of the upper berth in the general coach, the train’s rhythmic clattering lulling me into a state of half-sleep. The compartment was filled with the soft snores of the family sharing the space with me, their bodies huddled together for warmth in the chilly night air. I was wrapped in a thin blanket, my mind racing with thoughts of my father in the hospital and the uncertainty of our financial situation.

The sudden jolt of the train braking made my eyes snap open. It was midnight, and the Ticket Checker was making their rounds. I sat up, my heart pounding in my chest as I waited for the inevitable confrontation. The compartment door slid open, and in stepped a woman. I was taken aback. The TC was always an intimidating figure, but this woman had an approachable air about her. She was in her late twenties, her uniform fitting snugly, her hair pulled back into a neat bun.