One terror outfit loses rest and peace
when another group blasts the bomb
and kills more than a hundred people.
Those kidnap kids for a few lakhs
chunter on those who hijack flights.
The pick-pockets feel envy at the burglars.
Knife-wielders for currencies of low value
get aggravated at the gun-toting smuglers.
Those who hunt snakes for their skin
are aggrieved at those who hunt deers.
Those whose palms greased by a few dollars
grouse about the ministers swindling billions.
All of you take a hike from your wonted trade
and keep this earth a nourishing mother to all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem