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There’s something deeply desi & weirdly intimate about Indian Railways announcements. They aren't elegant. They're not trying to be. They don’t try to seduce you with swanky British diction like airports. No polished voices saying “Gate 3” or “Final Boarding Call.” Nope. They just go “गाड़ी संख्या…” & your body knows: Time to move. Time to arrive. Time to be. I don't care what your Spotify Wrapped says. If you haven’t zoned out on a platform while listening to the sasta Indian ASMR loop of “Train number… Platform number…” you're missing out on some of the finest ambient music India has to offer.
And I know I’m not the only one. Somewhere out there, there’s another tired human playing "Indian train announcement ambience 2 hours loop" on YouTube to fall asleep.
It’s weirdly healing.
Maybe it's because the announcement always carries a promise of going somewhere. Escaping, arriving, running away or just moving forward. Every single one of those lines has motion packed into it. You hear that & you're already on the move. Even if you’re stuck in the same city, same routine, same corporate crap. For that one minute, your soul boards that Express.
We’ve all had our fair share of nightmarish train journeys. The berths that never match what you booked. The guy on the middle berth who keeps swinging his legs in your face. The weird yellow stains on the railway pillow. The loo that smells like regret & paap. That uncle who starts snoring just as you fall asleep. That one co passenger who has no concept of personal space. Some aunty playing candy crush on full voloume. And still… still we romanticise it. Why? Because train journeys feel real. They don’t pretend to be perfect. They’re messy, sweaty, cramped, loud, unpredictable, just like life. And the announcements? They’re like the thread that holds it all together.

You know what else is weird?
I associate train announcements with movement. Not just literal travel but the kind of movement that feels like change. Like something is finally shifting. Even if I’m not going anywhere. Even if I’m stuck in the middle of a long, boring day. Playing train announcements somehow makes me feel like I’m still part of that big, never stopping, moving world. It’s escapism, yes. But it’s also connection.
Because here’s what most people don’t understand, when you travel as much as I do, 'home' becomes a feeling more than a place. And sometimes, home sounds like:
"Train … is arriving on platform number ..."
There are days, more than I’d like to admit where I just sit on the Dadar platform. Buy a ₹10 platform ticket, grab something to eat and just sit. I don't check my phone. I don't talk to anyone. I just listen. Announcement after announcement rolls in like waves. Have you noticed this? CSMT. Dadar. Thane. Each station’s announcement voice has a signature. Some are soft spoken. Some have the high pitched mechanical “Kreeeee kripya dhyan dein” starting note. You know what, those announcements? They aren’t just train details. They’re metaphors. Every “is arriving on Platform Number…” feels like life offering you a new chance. Every “is delayed by…” teaches you patience. Every “is now departing…” reminds you that not all things are meant to stay.
And if you feel this too… You're not a psycho. You're just one of us. The platform sitters. The sound hoarders. The travellers who find peace in noise. So next time you see someone sitting quietly on a platform, headphones off, eyes closed, maybe even smiling like a psycho, don’t judge. Maybe they’re not waiting for someone. Maybe they’re just listening. Listening to trains they’re not even on, places they may never go. Or maybe… they’re just like me. Slightly cracked. Deeply tired. Weirdly comforted by the Indian Railways. And always ready to move.
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P.S. If you ever feel like everything’s falling apart, play a train announcement clip. Close your eyes. Pretend you’re on your way somewhere. You are. Even if that “somewhere” is just healing. From whatever life just threw at you.
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