Train To Darjeeling Poem by Chhavi Anupam

I stand
on the grassland,
moist deep
tender leaves,
green all over,
in distance
the alluring hills,
gush their fragrance.

The whistle
of the train,
alerts me,
from my
afternoon nap,
my anklets
my armlets
clink.

The beads
in my neck,
sigh up and down
my chest,
my grazing goats
jingle, a bit
turn their
chins up.

But
busy themselves
soon with munching.
There he is
…..I can see
his blue uniform,
his white
ornamented hat.
He stands at
the door
of the engine,
which chugs along
so slow,
as if he’ll
leap out
into my grassland.

But
no.….he does not.
Our eyes meet,
he smiles,
a bright
twinkle in
his eyes,
……what light.

As the pink lips
part,
I see
his white teeth
flash,
he waves also
as the engine
slams on.

I always feel,
when he passes,
that this time
he shall extend
an arm,
and shall
pull me up
from this farm,


but,
what he does
instead,
is that
he smiles
and waves his hand
and I too
wave heartily, in turn.

My goats jingle,
and the
lazy engine
heaves on,
like a brat,
on a picnic hike,
saturated,
whistles on.

For sometime,
I keep watching
the beautiful,
blue train,
roll on,
musical
in its passage,
as it roves on.

I want to
be lapped up,
I want to
journey ahead,
beyond
this grassland,
but the train
merrily rambles on.

Then as it
passes,
I watch the
last coach,
then the
back of the coach
painted black,
with a cross on.

The red lights
which remain visible
even from
a distance
….gradually fade on,
but I do not give up
I press my ears
on the track.

To hear and feel
the vibrations
and that strange joy
but that too
trails away.
And alone
I stand
on the tracks.

Staring in
the direction
the train moved on,
the direction
which swallowed,
the engine
the coaches
the driver, with his cap on.

My goats signal
time to shepherd
them home.
On my way
back to home
oh! train to Darjeeling
come, fetch me
in your alluring arms.

Sure, I’ll sing
…pause,
and again sing
as you’ll chug on
Oh! my train to Darjeeling,
you are a dream,
I want to live,
all along!

****



I stand
on the grassland,
moist deep
tender leaves,
green all over,
in distance
the alluring hills,
gush their fragrance.

The whistle
of the train,
alerts me,
from my
afternoon nap,
my anklets
my armlets
clink.

The beads
in my neck,
sigh up and down
my chest,
my grazing goats
jingle, a bit
turn their
chins up.

But
busy themselves
soon with munching.
There he is
…..I can see
his blue uniform,
his white
ornamented hat.
He stands at
the door
of the engine,
which chugs along
so slow,
as if he’ll
leap out
into my grassland.

But
no.….he does not.
Our eyes meet,
he smiles,
a bright
twinkle in
his eyes,
……what light.

As the pink lips
part,
I see
his white teeth
flash,
he waves also
as the engine
slams on.

I always feel,
when he passes,
that this time
he shall extend
an arm,
and shall
pull me up
from this farm,


but,
what he does
instead,
is that
he smiles
and waves his hand
and I too
wave heartily, in turn.

My goats jingle,
and the
lazy engine
heaves on,
like a brat,
on a picnic hike,
saturated,
whistles on.

For sometime,
I keep watching
the beautiful,
blue train,
roll on,
musical
in its passage,
as it roves on.

I want to
be lapped up,
I want to
journey ahead,
beyond
this grassland,
but the train
merrily rambles on.

Then as it
passes,
I watch the
last coach,
then the
back of the coach
painted black,
with a cross on.

The red lights
which remain visible
even from
a distance
….gradually fade on,
but I do not give up
I press my ears
on the track.

To hear and feel
the vibrations
and that strange joy
but that too
trails away.
And alone
I stand
on the tracks.

Staring in
the direction
the train moved on,
the direction
which swallowed,
the engine
the coaches
the driver, with his cap on.

My goats signal
time to shepherd
them home.
On my way
back to home
oh! train to Darjeeling
come, fetch me
in your alluring arms.

Sure, I’ll sing
…pause,
and again sing
as you’ll chug on
Oh! my train to Darjeeling,
you are a dream,
I want to live,
all along!

****




I stand
on the grassland,
moist deep
tender leaves,
green all over,
in distance
the alluring hills,
gush their fragrance.

The whistle
of the train,
alerts me,
from my
afternoon nap,
my anklets
my armlets
clink.

The beads
in my neck,
sigh up and down
my chest,
my grazing goats
jingle, a bit
turn their
chins up.

But
busy themselves
soon with munching.
There he is
…..I can see
his blue uniform,
his white
ornamented hat.
He stands at
the door
of the engine,
which chugs along
so slow,
as if he’ll
leap out
into my grassland.

But
no.….he does not.
Our eyes meet,
he smiles,
a bright
twinkle in
his eyes,
……what light.

As the pink lips
part,
I see
his white teeth
flash,
he waves also
as the engine
slams on.

I always feel,
when he passes,
that this time
he shall extend
an arm,
and shall
pull me up
from this farm,


but,
what he does
instead,
is that
he smiles
and waves his hand
and I too
wave heartily, in turn.

My goats jingle,
and the
lazy engine
heaves on,
like a brat,
on a picnic hike,
saturated,
whistles on.

For sometime,
I keep watching
the beautiful,
blue train,
roll on,
musical
in its passage,
as it roves on.

I want to
be lapped up,
I want to
journey ahead,
beyond
this grassland,
but the train
merrily rambles on.

Then as it
passes,
I watch the
last coach,
then the
back of the coach
painted black,
with a cross on.

The red lights
which remain visible
even from
a distance
….gradually fade on,
but I do not give up
I press my ears
on the track.

To hear and feel
the vibrations
and that strange joy
but that too
trails away.
And alone
I stand
on the tracks.

Staring in
the direction
the train moved on,
the direction
which swallowed,
the engine
the coaches
the driver, with his cap on.

My goats signal
time to shepherd
them home.
On my way
back to home
oh! train to Darjeeling
come, fetch me
in your alluring arms.

Sure, I’ll sing
…pause,
and again sing
as you’ll chug on
Oh! my train to Darjeeling,
you are a dream,
I want to live,
all along!

****


























I stand
on the grassland,
moist deep
tender leaves,
green all over,
in distance
the alluring hills,
gush their fragrance.

The whistle
of the train,
alerts me,
from my
afternoon nap,
my anklets
my armlets
clink.

The beads
in my neck,
sigh up and down
my chest,
my grazing goats
jingle, a bit
turn their
chins up.

But
busy themselves
soon with munching.
There he is
…..I can see
his blue uniform,
his white
ornamented hat.
He stands at
the door
of the engine,
which chugs along
so slow,
as if he’ll
leap out
into my grassland.

But
no.….he does not.
Our eyes meet,
he smiles,
a bright
twinkle in
his eyes,
……what light.

As the pink lips
part,
I see
his white teeth
flash,
he waves also
as the engine
slams on.

I always feel,
when he passes,
that this time
he shall extend
an arm,
and shall
pull me up
from this farm,


but,
what he does
instead,
is that
he smiles
and waves his hand
and I too
wave heartily, in turn.

My goats jingle,
and the
lazy engine
heaves on,
like a brat,
on a picnic hike,
saturated,
whistles on.

For sometime,
I keep watching
the beautiful,
blue train,
roll on,
musical
in its passage,
as it roves on.

I want to
be lapped up,
I want to
journey ahead,
beyond
this grassland,
but the train
merrily rambles on.

Then as it
passes,
I watch the
last coach,
then the
back of the coach
painted black,
with a cross on.

The red lights
which remain visible
even from
a distance
….gradually fade on,
but I do not give up
I press my ears
on the track.

To hear and feel
the vibrations
and that strange joy
but that too
trails away.
And alone
I stand
on the tracks.

Staring in
the direction
the train moved on,
the direction
which swallowed,
the engine
the coaches
the driver, with his cap on.

My goats signal
time to shepherd
them home.
On my way
back to home
oh! train to Darjeeling
come, fetch me
in your alluring arms.

Sure, I’ll sing
…pause,
and again sing
as you’ll chug on
Oh! my train to Darjeeling,
you are a dream,
I want to live,
all along!

****