Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal Poems

I was stepping in to become young
I thought it is nice journey but too long
I am afraid and take care not to go wrong
I was expecting everything for song
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All dreams may not come true
All credits due may not accrue
But with true reflection in mind
Ideas newer and newer may emerge and find
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Never but at cross road,
Are we at cross road?
Is there any load?
Why not we meet?
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place called "home" is to feel homely,
God's creation standing by to look so lovely,
May be she is with all her elegance,
Everything for sure and no pretence,
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All hopes dash against hopes
It is like tight walking on simple ropes
We may counter stiff resistance at high slope
Bonding may not be possible even if you elope
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Brown eyes with sparkling light,
Standing before me just to right,
Inviting me near but not to fight,
May be closer views and clear sight,
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You suggested to me let us meet anywhere,

A place Where HE is not there,
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It is darkest hour in our history,
Dark nights shrouded with mystery,
Keeping under heels and making mockery,
Liberty torch shine but under label of slavery,
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Blood spilled all over on ground
Bodies scattered and in mutilation found
Fresh wave of violence gaining round
Hatred, distrust reign with system sound
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Can justice be delayed under any circumstances?
Numerous cases can be sighted for instances
Can that not be amounted as justice denied?
Well, conscious should always bite if it is laid
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