As I lay on this -
the so called berth,
thoughts pop in my mind
questioning the love of tracks;
the durable bond of theirs;
parallel they run;
rarely they meet;
valueless without each other!
For miles and miles after,
They survive the warmth,
the warmth and scorching heat,
the scorching heat of the sun;
neither the lightening
nor the thunder shakes them;
for the determination is strong,
strong to behold them close,
beyond the threshold of imagination!
Days and months pass by;
their help is enormous,
expecting nothing in return;
for life has always been about love and hope,
the love for the other;
the one a metre away;
and hope of a crossing,
where they might meet;
only to depart again;
to help the discriminating souls!
From north to south
and back again;
they run unaltered,
uniting the country
on grounds other than that of terror!
For they are a lifeline,
for the poor and the rich alike;
running across borders,
borders of language and race
and of colour and faith.
As I close my eyes
on the so called berth,
I wonder about this love again;
the bond that serves the greedy,
by sacrificing their own need
of being together;
the love that unites them;
for they remain together,
yet apart;
for all years to come -
for time immemorial;
leaving a legacy of its own!
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