When I Met A Widow Mother Poem by Sambidhan Acharya

I met with a widow mother,
Her eyes was searching for some one,
I feared whether it was her son, to whom I shot,
But shooting was the only order I followed,
I didn’t knew who was he,
If I would know my single bullet could kill four,
Than I would never obey the order,
Four! Don’t get surprised its he, his mother, wife and daughter.

Can I get out of this sin I asked to myself in vain,
Coz' I knew it’s the only thing I was taught,
But, I could serve them, throughout my life,
But, halted my feet because I too have family waiting in the grounds.
Weep was heard when I posed near,
Tears from eyes could be seen as my bonus of the order I had followed.

I slowly handed his mother her son's corpse,
She in trembling voice inquired me,
'Is my son a terrorist? '
I could see the answer she wanted to hear,
So, risking my post I uttered
'No, madam, he was a great hero of the country.'