[1] New Dehli’s Paharganj rail station is
humming with sound and crawling with
people. The gray platforms are bathed in
white light. The train engines belch smoke
[5] and whistle like impatient bulls.
If you were to search for me in the
crowded maze, where would you look? You
would probably try to find me among the
dozens of street children who are stretched
[10] out on the smooth concrete floor in various
stages of rest and slumber. You might even
imagine me as an adolescent vendor,
peddling plastic bottles containing tap water
from the station’s toilet as pure Himalayan
[15] mineral water. You could visualize me as one
of the sweepers in dirty shirts and torn pants
shuffling ........ the platform, with a long
swishing broom transferring dirt from the
pavement ........ the track. Or you could look
[20] for me among the regiments of red-
uniformed porters bustling about with heavy
loads on their heads.
Well, think again, because I am neither a
vendor, nor porter, nor sweeper. Today I am
[25] a genuine passenger, travelling to Mumbai, in
the sleeper class no less, and with a proper
reservation. I am wearing a starched white
bush shirt made 100% cotton and Levi’s
jeans-yes, Levi’s jeans, bought from the
[30] Tibetan Market. I am walking purposefully
........ platform number five to board the
Paschim Express for Mumbai. There is a
porter trudging along by my side carrying a
light-brown suitcase on his head. The porter
[35] has been hired by me, and the suitcase on his
head belongs to me. The suitcase does not
contain any money. I have heard too many
stories about robbers on trains that drug you
at night and make off with your belongings to
[40] take the chance of keeping the most precious
cargo of my life-my salary from the Taylors-in
my suitcase. It is inside my underwear. I take
a quick look ........ the loose notes in my front
pocket. I reckon I will have just enough to
[45] take an auto-rickshaw from Bandra Terminus
to Salim’s room in the Ghatkopar slum. Won’t
Salim be surprised to see me arrive in a
three-wheeler instead of on the local train?
And when he sees the game I bought for
[50] him, I hope he doesn’t faint from happiness.
Adapted from: SWARUP, Vikas. Slumdog Millionaire. 2005. p. 148-149.
Observe the segments below.
1 - [...].various stages of rest and slumber (l. 10-11)
2 - [...].pure Himalayan mineral water (l. 14-15)
3 - [...].the regiments of red-uniformed porters (l. 20-21)
The main words of the segments are, respectively,
