A student grew up believing,
Truth was something to defend,
Teachers said—
'Ask questions, think freely, '
That's how progress begins.
A journalist chased a story,
A citizen raised a doubt,
A whistleblower spoke too loudly,
And suddenly they were singled out.
No stones were thrown,
No hatred spread,
They simply asked—
'What's going wrong ahead? '
But answers never came,
Only labels arrived—
'Anti-national.'
'Traitor.'
'Pick a side.'
They didn't hate their country,
They wanted it to improve,
Yet every honest question
Became something to disprove.
A reporter wrote the truth,
And became the headline instead.
A whistleblower exposed corruption,
And found a target on his head.
The question isn't
Why people ask.
The question is
Why answers never last.
If criticism is hatred,
Then what is patriotism for?
If questions are the problem,
Then what's democracy for?
We don't ask because we hate.
We ask because we care.
Because silence builds fear,
But questions bring repair.
And when questions become dangerous,
And labels replace replies,
A democracy doesn't collapse overnight—
A democracy slowly dies.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem