Don’t Make Profession A Curse Poem by Aftab Alam

Again salt is put on my wounds, again I bleed
Yesterday only event took place, I am sullied
A poor husbby’s wife had a labour pain
Brought to a Hospital, for greeting gain

All were happy outside, inside medical check
Baby was ready to come out, to see the world
At utter surprise, doctor gave a beastly peck
Mother must be operated, ‘a stone was hurled’

Then came a nurse, Sister Magothi and said
Case is not complex, not to be operated, treat
Poor lots at Govt. hospital come with hope
Why money? Help humanity, you’re paid

Doctor replied, if this would be simple delivery
I will pay the amount charged, I promise, agree
Hopeless, they took the lady, at the risk of God
Lady delivered the Baby on the pavement in a pod

I salute Magothi for his deeds, a blithe soul
I curse the doctor, curse to his profession
I praise to Allah brought the baby in this earth
I praise all those condemned the act and cursed

Priceless humanity is so costly, measured with money
Shame to the profession that drains humanity honey