Under Constant Fear Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

We are living under constant fear
The crowded market places has brunt to bear
It is easy target for terrorists to strike
It is scene of the day and much to our dislike

Some of the disgruntled forces think otherwise
Their ideology is based on weapons to improvise
They think people can be subdued by violence
There terror has to be spread on large scale hence

There have no religion to follow
Some of outdated customs forcefully to allow
No voice against their action to be tolerated
Cut the throats and leave the body mutilated

Some of the provisions made for spread of the terror
The arms, ammunition and training provided to minors
The brain wash and untruth spread in the minds
Where can one survive and only terror to find?

It is not the religion alone behind the game
The age old custom and monopoly to blame
They have no hesitation to kill a person
What will they offer in His audience any valid reason?

It is alright to go in and praise martyrdom
It is essential and necessary for any freedom
It requires sacrifice if not to be called zero
The nation pays homage to such brave heroes

No nation can be cowed down by suicide attacks
It speaks of cowardice act and generally lacks
The strong resolve to attain the desired aim
How can they seriously come forward to claim?

Some futile steps here and there can not weaken
The nationalist sprit can not be shaken
It will strengthen the opinion against them on the contrary
These steps are unwarranted and totally unnecessary

We have witnessed enough of bloodshed
Now there is no scope for counting the dead
How many lives can you take by surprise?
There is no more gain left to summarize

No one may buy the arguments
This is real freedom fighter’s movement
The independence can not be won by wanton killing
It will add to woes and only grief filling


The world at large has realized the point
Some of the nations have yet to join
To offer meaningful solutions to the fight
The honorable place has to be given to the right

We may leave behind troubled land
Burning with fire and no one is to be trusted as friends
History will never pardon us for such a fluid and dangerous situation
How much blood might have been shed till then for such continuation?