The Tyranny of Truth and Other Poems
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How close was I to the end today? Was life in danger of losing its way? Wandering, whistling in the dark, A lonely soul on Noah's ark. Your words, says Ashok Sawhny, are what matter most, and these poems in his latest collection have a distinctly philosophical, sometimes elegiac, air, whether he's dealing with Man and his Maker, an MRI scan or a missing feathered friend. The author views with misgivings the Grim Reaper - don't we all? - but has plenty of time to enjoy Nature, the teeming subcontinent of his birth and the recollection of a first kiss. Here then is life, here is truth dressed as...
How close was I to the end today? Was life in danger of losing its way? Wandering, whistling in the dark, A lonely soul on Noah's ark. Your words, says Ashok Sawhny, are what matter most, and these poems in his latest collection have a distinctly philosophical, sometimes elegiac, air, whether he's dealing with Man and his Maker, an MRI scan or a missing feathered friend. The author views with misgivings the Grim Reaper - don't we all? - but has plenty of time to enjoy Nature, the teeming subcontinent of his birth and the recollection of a first kiss. Here then is life, here is truth dressed as poetry for us all to enjoy. Ashok Sawhny was born in Lahore, Punjab, in 1937. The family moved to New Delhi, India after Partition in 1947. Schooled at Modern School, New Delhi, and graduating in Economics from St Stephen's College, Delhi, he worked with Indian industry until 1977 and then started his own international trading company, Monarch International, of which he is president. His love for art, literature and the finer side of life finds expression in his earlier books, The Sands of Time, As Time Goes By, Fruit Salad, Chequerboard and To Have Loved. He also writes in Urdu language. `Ashok Sawhny not only is prolific in his output of poems, his work provokes us into new realms of thinking about the world and our lives.¿ David McNally, EVEN EAGLES NEED A PUSH
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