AN ANGLO-INDIAN ICON

This poem is inspired by a recent photograph of the railway institute in Arkonam. I do not know if such is the state of railway institutes elsewhere in India. However, I am sure many in AJJ will relate to this poem.

I stand here now, lonely, lost and decrepit
For I no longer seem good enough and fit
To be the host of any joyful celebration
Such is my fate, such is my station.

Weddings I have hosted, many dances too
Under my eye, many lads and lasses grew
And at Chrismas time, I was so full of cheer
For it was the best time of the year

Alone and with heavy heart, I now recall
Crowning the May Queen, hosting the June ball
Watching parading lads and lasses in fancy dress
Smiling, when a priest, would another wedding cake bless

I was the heart and soul of any festive season
And to many people I was the reason
They could shout “Housie” or dance the night away
Or with fun and frolic, Wheel of Fortune, play

Yes, my red brick walls and my creaky wooden floor
Saw a wonderful, enterprising community grow
One that filled me with their music, cheer and dance
But, alas, now I am no longer given the chance

Which is why I can only stand here and simply cry
While the grass that does, around me, wither and dry
And wonder where all those people have now gone
As I gaze out at the railway tracks, with a memory forlorn

Yes, as the trains whizz past, taking people here and there
I can only silently stand, gaze and stare
At a period in time, when I could proudly boast
That, of the entire town, I was the toast

So, my friend, if anything, let this my verse pay tribute
To an Anglo-Indian icon – the good, old, railway institute.