I Was Shot – A Poem Written by Muhammad Shanazar

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I Was Shot

Written by Muhammad Shanazar

The poem describes, plight of the poor people, the poet presented himself as a protagonist instead of choosing some other character, he goes to steal commodities for his family, but he finds the middle class too, does not have sufficient to eat, the poem is a big slap on the face of governments that make weapons and get themselves prepared for wars and their masses do not have anything to eat. Nice poem, it keeps the reader in suspence from the beginning to the end.


It was night,
The whole nation was in fright,
For starvation prevailed over
Each nook and corner.

I went out with an empty pocket
And a blank bag,
To manage commodities for my own kids,
And walked timidly
Through the lanes and lawns,
I came across men and women
With harrowed pallid faces,
There was stifling in the airs
As if something had rotten
Beneath the crust of time.

I advanced through the streets
To seek an opportunity,
A chance to carry out my intents:
The maiden adventure.

I saw the houses big and small,
But the doors were shut,
At some spots I saw the guards
Watching at the gates with guns.

I found a mansion with the walls
Neither too high nor too small,
Inner contents of the house were visible
And the watchman seemed to be dozing,
In the chair with the mozer in his lap.

I quailing my strength and courage,
Jumped over the bordering wall,
And I stealthily went ahead through
The plants and flowering shrubs;
All the time caring lest sound should disturb
The sleeping indwellers.

I made a sudden survey,
And my eyes located the kitchen,
A place of treasure, it was simply bolted,
Merely hooked without any lock.

I with making a noise least
Searched for the containers
Containing the precious articles,
And discovered many of them empty.

I found a tin-box with a little quantity of flour,
No more than kilo two and a half,
And a bag of sugar laid beside.
I turned up the tin-box,
Poured the flour into my own bag,
And carried along the packed sugar too.

I moved back and strove to leap over the wall,
But my legs staggered
As if they began to revolt against my wills;
In the effort I fell and thump awoke the guard,
He pointed his mozer and fired twice, “Bang, bang”,
One shot hit in the shank of my leg,
I lay on the ground,
Gripping the targeted spot tight,
The piercing pain of the shot woke me up,
I found myself on the floor, instead of in the bed,
But I was holding my leg tight.


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