The train is crowded people troubled,
Yet the dream of a homely Puja does not seem far fetched.
Amidst strain and undue harassment,
sacrificing for a forthcoming unbound excitement
Home is the goal,
On the mind of every single traveling soul.
Hurdles and discomfort seems trivial,
The long cherished wish of a festive celebration turning out to be real.

Dimly lit stations stand as mute spectators,
Our train daunting away without a tinge of fear.
Expectant parents wait eagerly,
keeping their fingers crossed for their child's safe homeward journey.
The night dawns making us sleepy,
Need to restore some energy for tomorrow's uncertainty.
The train halts surrounded by calm,
There seems no signal to sound an alarm.
out of the dead the whistle roars,
Train advances with furor.

Sleepless night a pitiable plight,
Faces however smiling, visualizing home in sight.
Passengers finding it difficult to maneuver,
Adding to the misery of the waitlisted travelers.
Hawkers merrily walk up and down,
their livelihood in question, makes them oblivious to the population around.

When will such a day adorn,
Every person will have a throne.
Living in peace with minimum discomfort,
Getting proper worth for their tireless efforts.
Its a dream our nation conceives,
Our duty ends if we are able to achieve.