The Question

Day after day, I wandered alone - To know the answer to the question 'why'. Sometimes, in pleasure, I used to smile; Sometimes, in sorrow, I used to cry. Temple after temple, I roamed about Asking the question sadly - No one could give me an answer to it; Some tried, some failed badly. Alone on the streets, ragged, barefoot And my dreamy eyes in despair, I searched for someone who could answer and Lighten the burden I had to bear. Some thought I was a saint Some thought I was a beggar; Some threw me coins of no help - Some, to insult me, were eager. To search for the answer, I walked days and nights Shedding toil and tears along the way - I asked many people, I pleaded many But none had anything to say. And I stood, at a corner of this world With not an eye fixed on me Bullets have destroyed my family and my life... I still ask,"Why do 'humans' love treachery?"