Where are they, the women folk,
who were shopping spree?
The Super-Plazas are free;
The push-carts lie idle, you see.
What a slump of prices
of vegetables and fruits,
the produce of farmers!
But people have no changes.
Waiting before the ATMs
and coming home with bare hands!
Weak minds going wild
for killing kids, aren't afraid.
No work of any kind going on.
Where is money to give wages?
Life of the people paralyzed!
But they speak on strife at borders.
The driver of a vast nation
must feel the pulse of frustration.
Consult the honest economists
and not the bigots to redress.
Don't evade or be silent
when the Commoners query.
Concerns over Terror control them
or else a spark will fire them for a holocaust.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem