Mountain Train Poems


Four short poems about the narrow / meter gauge railway. The memories of mountain railways in the quint towns of the Himalayas. .

The sky was stained with the blue of berries

on that peppery winter noon,

when we sat on that small wooden bench,

outside the teashop overlooking the valley, 

watching the toy train slowly trundle past 

the pines, conifers, and flaming rhododendrons,

the hot masala chai melts all our inner strife

in a fragrant rhapsody for the time being.

2

The narrow gauge waits among the shadows

and lattices of light like a poem uncoiling

into oblivion, spell bound.

In the soundlessness of the falling snow

I listen for a heartbeat no longer there,

the silence too strong for me,

just like the tea from the old teashop. 

3

The edge of the rain slices the ruddy sun 

with delicate knife like precision,

and turns one side of the valley grey,

on the sunlit side the shivering green

tries to cling to the fading light,

the wind snores, shifts, snarls,

 rain filled clouds clamber up 

towards the mountain peaks,

in the valley below, a lone train crawls through 

the dappled grey whistling its old song. 

4

A wayward brushstroke, 

on a spring-like pallet, 

the little mountain train,

is homeward; 

along the wandering waters,

Past purple Jacarandas,

into the  valley of yellow and gold,

and then you see a little town,

pastel painted,

tumbling down the forested hill,

there and gone again,

losing its way 

in the mountain’s mist 

and the steam from my tea. 

 

 

Fist Published in Knot, a biannual web based magazine published by Kristen Scott from Marmaris, Turkiye .

Some New Poems


I took a much needed break to the mountains and promptly fell sick after returning to the killing heat of Delhi. The city and I have a love hate relationship.

I have not really posted much on the blog too which I shall correct now. There is a three part travelogue coming up soon along with some other surprises.

Just another day in the beautiful town of Ranikhet

Meanwhile you can enjoy some of the poems that recently got published in two prestigious online magazines.

A set of four toy train poems found home in biannual web based magazine Knot. Knot is the brainchild of poet, writer Kristen Scott. The magazine is published from Turkey.

You can read the poems here – 

TOY TRAIN POEMS  

Do check out other content in this fabulous magazine.

Another set of five poems were published in Poets International’s The Peregrine Muse (Art / Humanities website)  Do check out this journal for some excellent poetry from across the world.

Find my poems by clicking on this link :

FIVE REMEMBERANCES

I am thankful to Kristen Scott and Imene Bennani (poetry editor) of  Knot magazine & Ananya Guha and Scott Thomas Outlar of The Peregrine Muse for including my poetry.

It is always a good feeling when your work is appreciated and accepted for publication.

I am working on my second book of poems and hope to bring it out by early next year.

Keep visiting the blog and do leave your views in the comment section.

Two Poems


First published in Le Zap XVI 

Observations 

1. Metro Poem

Laden with shopping bags

this poem rides the rush hour tide

at the metro station.

Coffee in hand, a packet of sugar

gripped between its teeth, a bag

strapped across its chest, hair

struggling to escape the floral bandana,

talking relentlessly into the bluetooth headset,

it makes its effortful way into the waiting train,

leaving behind a silage of memory.

 

 

  1. Train Poem

Inside the stuffy train compartment

a woman reaches inside her blouse for the

hidden money and gives a frowning glare

to the man staring from the seat facing her,

a  little boy  gazes out of the window

with a look of wonder at the world

 unfolding before him, his sibling

toys with her mermaid length braid,

twirls it between her lips and nose

like a mustache and looks around with a

glint of mischief in her eyes, two women

inch their way through the crowd, tagging

a couple of noisy kids, find an empty seat

and settle there, wedged together like a sections

of orange, the train passes enters a tunnel

and in the dark a teenager’s face glows

in the light of his mobile, disappearing

as quickly, a man dozes off on the shoulder

of his companion who is staring at his own reflection

staring at him from the darkness outside,

an elderly man in bright red shirt adjusts

his reading glasses and buries himself

in a popular newspaper, a woman

smiles to herself as she closes the novel

she is reading, her thumb carefully marking the page,

the man in the suit, a laptop bag hanging from

the shoulder suddenly abuses loudly,

hastily lowers his voice and continues to pour

his anger into the iphone,

In Contrast, a dry, bleak lifelessness prevails

outside the window, the hellish

summer sun spitting fire, devouring all

life on earth, bare trees, barren fields,

small towns, each a glimpse and then gone.

I close my eyes, the music of the wheels goes on

clickity-clak clickity-clak clickity-clak.