Darjeeling ::
Darjeeling Himalayan Railway
The meter of the rail’s gauge is as narrow as can be,And though the train has great age, it’s the smallest you will see.The guard blows his whistle and the flagman shows it’s “Go!”.Hear the echoes fade and die still across the vistas far below.When the Toy Train gets there and crawls along the street,The children race, they boldly dare on bare and shoeless feet.Yet, over zig-zag sinuous trail Yet, on the hair pinned bends,Chugs Toy Train on its polished rail all clear to journey’s end.Tomorrow, when the dawn breaks over Himalayan skies,The train again, will once more wake and heave a sleepy sigh.
The meter of the rail’s gauge is as narrow as can be,And though the train has great age, it’s the smallest you will see.The guard blows his whistle and the flagman shows it’s “Go!”.Hear the echoes fade and die still across the vistas far below.When the Toy Train gets there and crawls along the street,The children race, they boldly dare on bare and shoeless feet.Yet, over zig-zag sinuous trail Yet, on the hair pinned bends,Chugs Toy Train on its polished rail all clear to journey’s end.Tomorrow, when the dawn breaks over Himalayan skies,The train again, will once more wake and heave a sleepy sigh.
Photo | Amit Gautam
