The train chugs in with men hanging from it
As if they are fleas hanging on the lion’s eyes
Its eyes closing in on patient understanding.
I like its leisurely pipe smokes in a winter sky
And roars of annoyance as men come its way.
It is not a train to take me to the world’s end
Where mountains lose their peaks to the sky.
With only a tiny fire in its belly it is just a toy.
(The train is the Darjeeling- Himalayan railway between New Jalpaiguri and Darjeeling, nick named “toy train”)