Sad Eyes Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

I could read nothing on her face
But eyes could speak with grace
Intense struggle was going on in her mind
Yet her face revealed nothing for me to find

She had resolve of steel metal
Her husband had died of an accident which proved fatal
She could hardly think of anything now to settle
She was on decline and loosing her rose petals

She must be facing now lot many problems
Something struck to remind her of grave troubles
People may try their level to pound on her flash
Soon she may be heading for an open war or clash

Life is not bed of roses for all persons
Some people are blessed with support from sons
Some are looked after well by circumstances
Many are lucky not to have experienced such things even at once

She was not that lucky to have enough support
She may murmur and say when will reach her ship at the port
I listened to these words with much pain
But had no solution to relieve her from drain

She spoke to me with intense projection
She was not leaving the field by inaction
I saw in her eyes thunder storms and lightening
Nothing could deter her now from hardening

She had her own sphere, space and cover
I read her resolve to carry on and move further
No person was expected in her life to explore
I feared nothing unusual coming from her

Some people may loose courage if receive shocks after shocks
Luck also will be sending troubles in bundles from its stocks
It is seen and observed that ill luck would try everything to finish
But strong people may face it bravely and simply not perish

She was from fine blend and held very good character
Many times she would claim her self as an actor
I thought of great circus where each one is expected to play part
With magnificent acts, independent from each other as an art


I made little survey of human feeling
What will be the most fearsome act and almost killing?
I thought of illogical fear with devastating effects
Not realizing the unavoidable circumstances in fact

Life at some point of time comes to an end
You can add flavor to it by making some amends
No one may ask how much you lived on earth
But certainly remark how best you lived up to the time of death

No one will be spared from the jaw of death
We may also be going to lay a wreath
Yet it never occurs to us in mind
That we too may have some place here to find