Ode to musings in the local- the poem

Dear all,
The story: http://weandwords.blogspot.com/2009/06/ode-to-musings-in-local.html

As I got ready to leave from work for the day
I knew that I had to get back in a different way.
Stood there at the station waiting for me the Mumbai local
to take me back on a trip that, at one time, used to be special.

But this time, I had just had nothing but to heave a sigh
as I had to travel all the way from Navi Mumbai.
I knew, since it was a slow, I would have to pass many a station
and hence made me think of someone who has remained in imagination.

It used to be all the way from Vashi
would travel, everyday to work, she.
But it used to be only when the train crossed over to Mankhurd
that the cell range would allow our voices to be heard.

How she would maintain to remain firm and sturdy
I would wonder as the crowd would pick up at Govdandi.
Those days, sometimes to reach fast, I would know for sure
that she would have thought of taking a bus from Chembur.

During our talks, I would especially hate it whenever
the train would take off from Tilaknagar.
Because by chance, outside, if one saw
It would be the maddening crowds of Kurla.

She would always tell me how it was her felicity
by knowing me as approached slowly Chunabatti.
It would make me laugh when outside she saw someone like me
especially jumping out of the train as came by GTB.

I always remembered telling her a dream I saw
that as usual would be there a hell of a rush at Wadala.
Whenever that ‘dream’, for her, would end up as trouble
all that she had to do is to endure as approached Kings circle.

Moreover, it used to be some sort of a religious hymn
whenever to change the line, I used to tell while at Mahim.
All that she used to say then was a “hmmm”, “oh yeah”
though I knew that it was better to take the fast from Bandra.

But, as usual, she would continue in the train and call me at Khar
and make it feel that, for us, it was near, yet a little far.
As somehow she would have finally have to get to sit near Santa Cruz
she would have told me to sympathize her for the bruise.

Finally, I would have got to know that it was minutes away
and that it had almost set off from Ville Parle.
It used to make me feel so much joy and glee
that finally I would get to see her at Andheri.

Alas ,I go to realize that my dream
had run into many a ream .
Those days, it used to be like cloud nine
when thought that she was there as mine.

As I stand inside and the train gets a green signal to go
an important lesson, to all, it is all set to show.
Though people, in life, come and leave, by the dozen
there are a special few like her who cant be forgotten.