They call it the magic train
Ambling gently into station
It has been a long ride
Through the parched desert of Rajasthan
Until its arrival in Mondsor.
Here its short-term residency
Is a cause for local celebration.
For many it is the end
Of a long, dark night.
For others, it is the beginning
Of a new dawn.
The magic train is a purveyor of hope
A haven of revival
For the sick, the elderly, the poor
The blind, the dispossessed, the deaf
The downtrodden.
For Dashrath, a door will soon open
To a new world of sound
After years of solitude.
Sapna will walk again
No longer dragging her leg
Behind her, the curse of polio
Taking away her childhood and adolescence.
Shiva’s cleft lip is now just a scar
Soon to heal over time
Until he is ready to fulfil
His mother premonition
When she went into labour
The night he was born.
He will be our saviour
Unlike his divine namesake
The ultimate destroyer.
For the doctors and nurses
The respite is brief
As the train leaves Mondsor
Chugging towards Bharatpur
Where new challenges await.
Man may have sold his soul
But has found salvation
In a remote corner
Of a vast continent.
This is awesome...hope is d best gift tht u cn giv 2 someone.. keep up d gud work! ! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
hope is a beautiful thing.. and u portrayed it spectacularly..brilliant write!