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?"
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