Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts

May 22, 2026

My friend by Nithila

Took a leap of faith the other day

And called Betty one afternoon.

Don't ask me how I got her number

Or why I dialled her out of the blue.


Her voice sent me right back,

to times, much more pleasant and sweet.

I learnt she is studying business,

But I always pictured her with an Art degree.


I asked her if she shared the same love for writing,

Something we bonded over years ago.

She said something about the lack of time.

Her passion for books, have now gone cold.


She asked me what I wanted to pursue

I told her "A doctor, if all goes well"

"Wow that sounds just like you" she said

I simply laughed, nothing more to tell.


Betty used to love tennis, 

Something I loathed years ago.

But now I found a keen interest in it,

But Betty now played a different sport.


Betty had changed yet so did I,

But our laughter remained the same throughout.

Instead of ringing through the empty classrooms.

They now echoed inside these phone calls.


2024

Feb 10, 2026

Twenty


 

Twenty years ago

you arrived like a miracle—

an answer to a question

I did not know;

A reason for a smile

In the midst of Kabul snow


I look back now and remember:

You 

waiting behind the door

for me to come home,

Clinging to my legs at every goodbye,

Wrapping around my neck when awake,

and resting in my arms when asleep


Time has been chiselling you

before my eyes,

as you step out of my shadow

and grow new wings to fly.


You stand now at the edge of yourself—

half made of who you have been,

half made of who you are brave enough

to become.


The world will try to hurry you.

Let it wait.

You are allowed to move

at the speed of your own becoming.


The world will try to judge you.

Do not wait.

You are allowed to choose your path.

I know you will choose it right.


And if you ever doubt your worth,

remember this:

you have been loved—

loudly, quietly, fiercely—

since the first moment you breathed.


Twenty is not a number.

It is a doorway.

And you do not have to know

what waits on the other side

to step through it shining.


Happy birthday, my daughter.

The best chapters

are just beginning.

- Appa







Aug 24, 2021

Ashokism 50 - Poetic reflection in Art

Happy to announce that my first book in the "Ashokism" series is launched!

Grab your copy and share your feedback!



Buy the book from The Indie Bookstore: 

https://indie-bookstore.com/product/ashokism/

or Amazon.in:

 https://www.amazon.in/dp/B09DD3W57X/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=Ashokism+50&qid=1629735694&sr=8-1


For International buyers both Paperback and eBook available on



Jul 7, 2021

Ashokism 50- poetic reflections in art

Iam very glad to share with my blogmates that my first e-book "ashokism 50" is finally ready. Its a compilation of 50 selected poems published in this blog...and they are presented along with an art of mine for every poem. I have dedicated a few pages to record the comments my fellow poets ,artists and blogger friends had given for my works here in my blog. Paperback will soon be available in Amazon.

Feb 4, 2020

The Empty Well...


I stare all day at the scorching sky
I have shed my last tear
I echo my ache to the passerby
Hoping that he may hear

The nights are dreary dark and dry
Forlorn with shadows grim
I dream of the days long gone by
when water overflowed my brim

Once I was the village star
The maidens thronged my wheel
overheard their tales of love and war
And gossips I can't reveal

Now dried and drained- a life futile
Alone and left to fade
My only guest an odd reptile
that has slithered in for summer shade

Bury me I pray or save me I thirst
I hate this living death
Open I lie with sorrows submersed
A meaningless hole on Earth.

Image from Google

Feb 2, 2020

Unbind...

Gathering thoughts
In your pregnant mind;
Set them free
With your pen Unbind.
The canvas is dirty
Take up the brush;
Reinvent yourself
With colors afresh.
Open your windows
Let the breeze flow;
Purging your temple
Steady and slow.
Only if you listen
Answers you can hear;
Receding echoes
Afar yet so near.
You cannot see
If you open your eyes;
The world is inside
Awaken! Arise!


Jul 18, 2018

At the Red signal...

Clicked on the way...

Where darkness and life meet
her insignificant story she pens
The dirt beneath her feet
Will it find the water to cleanse?

Window to window she goes
With a face impassive and cold
A fairy lost in remorse
In smoke her innocence sold

As i wait at the signal, I sigh
The usual traffic is dead
The potholes ahead, the dark sky
She moves on, again green from red...

Dec 27, 2016

The Woodcutter...


As i drove past,
 there he stood,
Sweating and sinews glistening
in the afternoon sun,
A melting chocolate sculpture
With an axe in hand,
I could not but stop my car
And capture this living art
In a frame forever... 

May 1, 2014

The Kabul Night...


I was in the darkest of my days
lost and lonely
adrift within my bed.

Full was the moon.

The snow…
Iridescent.

This was another Kabul night.

The gas heater hardly kept me warm as I slept
Shivering as I was in the merciless winter cold
I was in a deep dreamless sleep
when death knocked upon my door.

Poison began to fill my lungs.
I was breathing heavy and sinking deep
drugged and dragged by death’s steely touch.

It could have been a painless end
but something happened that very instant
Was it a voice that called my name?
Was it a hand that shook me up?

My head was numb as I opened my eyes
The walls spun in the moon light
My throat was dry
I choked and coughed
I could not shout for help.

I felt like sliding into an abysmal hole
Did I wake up only to see it end?

My thoughts failed as I raised my face
to receive the final fateful punch
when suddenly a voice screamed inside my head
"run, Run, Run"....

And I ran.

I opened my door
dashed down the stairs
and all I remember was knocking on a door.

A day later
when I came around
I was pale and alive in a hospital bed.

Whenever I think of that fateful night
I remember the hand
I remember the voice
I thank the One who watched over me
Even in the darkest of my days.
------------------------------

[This was a real life - near death experience I had in December 2004. I was in Kabul , Afghanistan after the war - Long time readers of this blog will remember... Those were dark days without electricity and we had to depend on Propane Gas heaters as temperatures dropped below zero. One fateful night, my heater leaked and the poisonous gas filled the room. Usually, it's a slow death for a sleeping person. But miraculously I managed to wake up and run out before I collapsed in front of another inmates door. I was rushed to the army hospital and rescued.]

Dec 9, 2013

The Tree...

Art inspired from my travel along Mysore highway...


The lonely tree stands proud
above a carpet of flowers on fire
The leaves shiver as the noisy breeze
filters through them in a gusto waft

The gathering clouds on the grey sky
signal the impending monsoon rain
The birds struggle against the wind
to scamper back to their tree and nest

I stand and stare at this picture frame
as Natures' everyday story unfolds
A dark heaviness descends within
at the thought of the imminent times

Concrete and steel will devour the green
smoke and stink will steal the scene
A paradise that soon will be
prey to man's hunger and greed

I stand in shame before the tree
a helpless pawn in this heartless game
I feel a rain drop on my face
I feel a tear drop in my mind

Jul 4, 2013

Dove Cottage...

One of the advantages of driving by yourself is the chance to explore unplanned spots. The discovery of
"Dove Cottage"...the home of Poet William Wordsworth, happened by chance when we noticed the signage on the way...Set in the beautiful Grasmere Vale , Scotland. Wordsworth came here 1799 along with his sister Dorothy and childhood friend Mary whom he married later. It is here that he wrote some of his wonderful poems...The setting is so beautiful even today, one can imagine how ethereal it would have been two centuries ago. No wonder he was inspired to write the way he did!
















May 5, 2013

To and Fro...

His Pendulum swings
To and fro
My eyeballs swing along
“Focus” says
his steady voice
But my mind is on a song…

I've learnt the trick
To stay awake
And dream with open eyes…
The peace within
A paradise
Away from the maddening noise

In a spell
I hear the piper’s call
A glide away from pain
Scattered thoughts
Careless knots
Untied and tied again…

I shroud myself
In the umbra black
The light a distant dot
In trance I drown
Into the abysmal hole…
Isn't Life but a dreamy plot… ?

He can try
As long as he wants
But he’ll never see my wings!
To and fro
To and fro
In vain his pendulum swings…

Apr 29, 2013

The Walk...
















A silent walk this is
Down the memory lane
My Dried cells awake
With every step I take
Long lost pals I meet
On the receding way
Time has sculpted them
Each in a unique way
Few are glad to see me
And join my simple trot
While few are just distraught
Estranged in their own path
But let me just walk-on
Into the sands of time
Collecting what I can and
Coloring the Sepia land
My own history beckons
As I awake from Oblivion
Let me just walk on
Let me just walk on…

Apr 3, 2013

The Paper Heart...


On the floor lies
A forgotten heart
A crumpled tissue
Used and discarded
Lifeless,
Loveless,
Red.

I take it in my hand
Straighten the wrinkles
Scribbled all over
A tale Blotted with
Tears,
Fears,
Blood

I tear it to bits
And throw it up
The wind carries off
As I walk on…
Hopeless,
Heartless,
Dead…

Mar 5, 2013

I Love...


I love the break of dawn
The golden morning ray
To purge the past- be reborn
A new day, a new way

I love the noise of birds
Closed eyes , a tired mind
Simple songs , meaningless words
All cluttered thoughts refined

I love the ocean waves
To and fro , a tireless dance
Heartaches like footprints - erase
Drenched in a dreamy trance

I love the cooling breeze
A waft of scented air
With open arms, a moment - peace
Silent, exposed and bare

I love the flowered pathway
Meandering thro’ the landscape
Alone in silence - walk away
From burdens a sure escape

I love the showers of rain
Thunderbolts , a steady spell
Cleanse away my earthly pain
The inner blots dispel

I love the horse untamed
Galloping thoughts – dreaming wild
Riot of colors, picture framed
Jump high my inner child

I love the starry night
Infinite, mystic sky
Lost in thoughts - all quiet
Dried teardrop in my eye

Feb 26, 2013

What has gone wrong?


I spotted a few sparrows
At the BIAL- they scrounge
And eat out of dirty plates
At the airport food lounge

I spotted a few squirrels
At the Cantonment station
Scrambling with other vermin
For their every day ration

I spotted a few fishes
At the Bellandur lake
In Foaming stinky polluted
Sullied water they slake

I spotted a few children
At the Bellandur Gate
In monkey and parrot costume
Begging in a sorry state

O! What has gone wrong here?
O! What have we done?
So many aching questions
Yet answers we have none!


[BIAL -Bangalore International Airport Ltd, Cantonment Railway station, Bellandur Lake and Bellandur gate are all located in Bangalore city where I reside now] 

Feb 11, 2013

The Fox & Crow Story!!!

Illustration by Nithila (my daughter)

Once upon a time of yore
There lived a granny very old
Making vadas her daily chore
Two an anna is how she sold
 
Crispy top and a softy core
Tasty vadas hot and brown
She made them sitting on the floor
Humming with a forehead frown
 
There came flying a hungry crow
That sniffed the vadas from half a mile
Hoping that a piece she’ll throw
She cawed at granny for a while
 
The Granny just ignored the crow
And arranged the vadas on a bowl
The crow could feel its hunger grow
The sight of vadas with a hole!
 
As soon as granny turned her back
Swooped the crow with greedy claws
At ease she picked the fattest snack
And away she flew with happy caws!
 
The wily fox soon came to know
From the raven’s reckless caws
Slyly stalked the careless crow
As it happens in jungle laws!
 
Atop a Palmyra palm she perched
In her mouth her pricy catch
Leaf to leaf she loosely lurched
Deciding the seat to eat her snatch
 
“Oh Sinorita with a magical voice”
Howled the fox like a fervent fan
“Sing again and let me rejoice
 My Cuckoo! Blessed be your clan”
 
The mouthful crow blushed in awe
Flattered by his sugary word
“Let me hear that melodious caw”
Begged the fox at the brimming bird
 
The foolish crow fell for the hoax
Opened her throat to the fullest shriek
And to the joy of the crafty fox
Realized not what fell off her beak
 
The crow finished and made a pause
With open wings – the diva faux
When she looked down for applause
The vada had vanished with the fox!
 
The moral of the ditty, my daughter dear :
Ill gotten gain will never remain
And fall not for the blandish you hear
Remember this vada when flatterers feign. 

[One of The most popular kid's moral story ever. I tried to put it into verse to entertain my daughter.] 
Vada (originally Vadai in Tamil) is a popular south Indian Snack meal. They come in different varieties but the most popular is the one made from Urund dal and is shaped like a doughnut. 



Happy Birthday Nithila !!!



Feb 7, 2013

The Artist

art by ashok


In bottled colors my brush I dip 
  
My thoughts infinite and vast 
  
Into my framed canvas a trip 
  
to a land sans a future or past. 
  
With soft strokes and dabs so deft 
  
I am lost in this utopian land 
  
Emotions transient with sorrows bereft 
  
Flow from my meandering hand. 
  
Abstract lines and surreal themes, 
  
Unlock my mind and heart 
  
Stirred by Nature, Life and dreams 
  
Evolves a vision– an art! 

Feb 2, 2013

Time to go...


To and fro 
To and fro 
Swings the pendulum 
on my clock.  

Time to go 
I hear the crow 
Wake up call from 
the rooster cock  

Sure and slow, 
morning glow 
The sun ignites 
the distant rock  

Fresh and lo! 
On my toe 
‘Tis time to take 
my morning walk 

Jan 27, 2013

This Poet...



This Poet is a poor man 
A homeless carefree bird 
He tries as much as he can 
But he only has his word 
  
In silence weaves his vivid verse 
He rhymes and chimes with rain 
Whether they be long or terse 
He pens his joy and pain 
  
This poet is a fearless man
Save his creator, fears none 
Believes himself, rather than 
On providence to get things done 
  
They laugh at him and do call him 
An idealist lost in time 
Fancy’s child of endless whim 
Nature dances to his rhyme 
  
This poet is a vagabond 
His home is with the trees 
At natures bosom and far beyond 
He sits to pen at ease 
  
He stays awake on starry nights 
To gaze at the endless sky 
He drifts along the celestial lights 
Inspiration for the inward eye 
  
This poet speaks nothing but 
The truth and simple things 
He flies away from the daily rut 
On his colorful poetic wings