The Toy Train

For my eighth birthday, I got a new train set
With a gleaming, new engine of red and black.
With many parts with chrome plated effect,
Even the sound of 'choo-choo', it did not lack.

It did not have a whistle to blow,
But, it smelt good of paint and lube oil.
It promised a life of sustained vigour
With its strong spring wound in a coil.

I built bridges with picture blocks
And watched it climb the slopes;
It ran fast and often fell off the tracks
But, took it gamely without losing hope.

To steady it, brand new wagons were added
They made sure it didn't topple and fall;
It took the load in the right spirit
Though its speed slowed down to a crawl.

Over the years its spring became weaker
The train was packed and stored away.
Until one day rummaging the attic
I just happened to find where it lay.

Its bright paint had bleached and weathered
And many patches of rust one could see.
It did not take much time to figure out
It was nearly as old as me.

I cradled the engine in my hands
And blew away the dust off its gears.
Memories of my childhood came flooding in
It was like meeting an old friend after many years.

There are many new products in the market today
With electronic controls, one can get
But, none can evoke the same emotions
As my old toy train set.

~ Krishna ~

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