Joyjit Ghosh of The Telegraph spoke to an eyewitness, an employee of a cycle stand on the Burdwan station compound. The young man narrated his experience on condition of anonymity.

I was manning the gate of the cycle stand adjacent to Burdwan railway station. As I stood alert at the gate, daily passengers were coming in one by one and taking away their cycles to ride back home.

I was busy doing my job as I do on any other day when I suddenly heard people screaming. I was surprised and looked up. I still remember that the electric clock atop the station showed it was 7.40pm.

As my eyes shifted little leftwards, towards the old entrance to the station, I saw a big chunk of the portico coming crashing down with a huge thud.

There was panic in the air and the people were running helter-skelter as they tried to run away from the station.

“Bhenge jacche, bhenge jachhe (It’s coming crashing down),” some people were screaming at the top of their voice as they ran for cover.

There was, however, a lull after the storm. Most people around the station area had run out by then, but there was silence all around. As nothing happened in the next few minutes, people slowly started regrouping and stood at a distance waiting for the next fall, which, most people said, was imminent.

People from nearby eateries, shops and vendors also had by then joined the crowd. I, too, ran towards the crowd and saw many take out their mobile phones to click pictures of the station building, which had by then shown signs of caving in.

After close to 10 minutes, a huge portion of the portico, the verandah and the structure above it came crashing down. The area was enveloped in a thick smog.

The entire area was enveloped in a thick smog as people wondered what next. Over the last two hours, no other portion of the building has collapsed, thank God.

I have been working here — around the station — for several years, but have never seen anything like this happen before. I had seen a lot of workers in and around the station, some of whom used to hang out under the portico, as civil repairs of the portico was on for the last few days.

If the collapse had happened when the workers were carrying out the repairs or sipping their evening cup of tea sitting under it, god knows what would have been their fate.

I am still in shock thinking how it happened. Saturday evening at my workplace was no different from any other day. The only visible change was that the compound outside the station building looked less crowded with hawkers missing from action. Police had taken over the area and the place cleared of hawkers because, I was told, that a top railway boss was on an official trip.

Near the portico of the old station building there were several passengers waiting to catch trains and a few farm labourers who come here during the harvest season and spend the nights under the structure that leads into the enquiry on platform number 1.

Thank God that those labourers were around the portico but not under it.