Bustling Salem station,

With hawkers, passengers and what not,

Perplexed and amused I used to feel,

Seeing that station rush.

A partially ignored Higginbothams,

Lured me towards it,

And in a jiffy I was back to the madness,

Clutching tight, my prized possessions – Books.

The overflowing Ganga Kaveri express,

Chugged into the platform,

Lo behold, the a surge to board,

And I prayed not to get lost.

Holding my mom’s hand tight,

Trying to spot the coolie uncle,

Well, all of them looked the same,

Dr Watson and Holmes would fail too.

As we reached out seats,

I quickly climbed up to the top berth,

My bag and books kept my spot,

And I came back to the window in the lowest.

Those were the second class compartments,

And we had some people who just boarded,

Unreserved, said my dad

And they would get down soon it seems.

As the train slowly departed

My favourite part arrived,

Sitting by the window, 

I loved seeing the sights outside.

“Chai chai chaaiye,

Sada dosa, masala dosa and

Vada, samosa, ice-creams,

Hawkers had a lots to sell.

I counted the trees,

And wondered how they moved backwards,

The laws of Physics seemed weird

When the sun moved at the train’s speed.

At the turn, u could spot the engine,

And tried to count till my bogie,

By then our curd rice box came out,

Cajoling me to have it full.

Post lunch, my books called me,

And yea, I had to spend time with them,

Playing cards with mom and dad,

Well, that was indeed fun.

Night fell, I was scared,

What if I topple down from upper berth.

My parents assured me that I won’t,

And I read till I felt asleep.

Morning we reach Andhra, and

We did try to spot Thirumala,

The other sights weren’t so great,

Somethings that I wished not to view.

The railway breakfast of bread omlette,

Was devoured in minutes

And my eyes fell on a girl of my age,

Sitting opposite and reading Enid Blyton.

How quick we were to introduce ourselves,

And became friends,

Our parents were at peace,

As we wouldn’t trouble them ahead.

Reading and playing continued,

Till we reached Varanasi junction.

The train slowed down

Indicating the arrival of a junction.

 I peered through the windows,

Trying to spot my mamu,

And I spotted the Enid Blyton in his hand,

Well, i didn’t mind reading it again.

The onward journey came to an end,

But the memories are still alive.

Those wonderful train journeys,

Will remain with me forever and ever.

Photo by Omkar Jadhav on Unsplash