"The Lingering Train (DHR)"
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Down from a valley up it runs
Whistling through twists and turns.
Not as fast as a jet
Yet, is the tourists' favorite bait.
Streams seen from high a creek
Hands on hearts, they give a shriek.
From red to black and black to grey
Heaven conceals it for people pray.

Stops a little to quench its thirst
Not the hare, but the tortoise that comes first.
Coughing and choking, it enters the land
A home, where nature is well planned.
Pictures seen of glorious past
Shakes not a bit with it's upright mast.
They say her bones are weak
So weak that you can actually peek,
But still it runs its rusty rails
History stands with its century trails.

[*This poem talks about "Darjeeling Himalayan Railway" which has stolen the
hearts of people. It got its World Heritage Status which was conferred upon
by UNESCO... Darjeeling is proud]