With a roaring sound she blew,
Over the waves tainted blue,
Across forest, between the fields,
From land to land
A bachelorette open to all to woo.

She wore on her a perfume of sweet blossoms
She brought down shower of grace
But of her qualities, so pure and true
Was a playful ming so fickle and new.

There were days of darkness,
Her walk so cold
She crept along the aim streets,
Her aura so very, drying away untold

Then were the days of innocence and joy
Her face glowing bright,
Hoping along the street,
Knowing no brought, her joy took flight.

Shad the beauty of nature,
Singing from every falling strand of her auburn hair,
Radiating front her snow white tone
And screaming from the broad warm smile she wore.

Her daughter bloomed the flowers,
Her anger raged the waves,
She was welcomed in the house of many,
An a pleasant morning with a cup of warm tea,
But torment was her middle name
Although soothing was her first,
Scanning the house, she stud along
Blowing the windows and doors out
His gift of influence was curse of sorts,
Yet her calm a moment to cherish.

The Life of a Farmer

The heroes of our nation, the most important of the lot,
Their existence marks ours; they’re Gods of some sort.
Tirelessly, they work all day and they work all night,
Feeding states across the map, and dealing with heavy family plight.
They rise with the sun, and exert till their arms can be strong,
They can’t quit a task till it’s accomplished to its best, keeping up however long.

They provide us that necessity for life, without which one can’t stay,
They sleep on an empty stomach, after working for the entire day.
Just, they aren’t worshiped; no one offers them gold,
And for all the little costs they set on food, double of which in the market there sold.

But, that is what he does,
Along with duties for the nation, protecting their families with no armor,
Being a common man of the country, that is the life of a farmer.

He awoke one morning, with Great Spirit and smile,
All set to stain his palms in the loam, precious and fertile.
His wife pats his back, as he goes passed, and some play in the hay.
He begins with his daily errands, vigorously he goes on,
Then he checks the growth of the old ones, appreciating the wheat and corn.

A break for lunch needs, and definitely deserves I’d say,
Missing the company of his wife and children, he takes his only big meal of the day.
As time passes, the sun rolls down the sky,
He sets out for the home, as he wipes the trickling sweat droplet from near his eye.

Having their father reach home, all excitement shall arouse,
He is welcomed with a warm hug, for being the hero of the house.
He lay on the ground, as he listened to his children fight,
Fighting over a painful cause, who’s chance, was it to eat tonight.
A tear rolled down the eye of his wife, as she said faking a laugh,
“What’s the argument about, my darlings I shall divide it into half.”
A solution for the day was found, but how long will this last.

Not forever can the starved parents, continue with their pretentious fast.
But, that is what he does,
Along with duties for the nation, protecting their families with no armor,
Being a common man of the country, that is the life of a farmer.

The monsoon rains were almost there,
For a farmer this brings nervousness in the air.
What if it doesn’t rain, he thinks.
Then avoids these ideas, to cause no jinx
It rained all night, in a frightening way,
Nature’s fury turned the rainbows grey.
The sound of the water, made him lose sleep that night,
Early next morning he reached his field, and witnessed a blood-curdling sight.

The crops were washed away, not one was alive,
He pulled his hair out and asked, “Oh God, how will my family survive”
He stood there in dismay, his mind too chocked for thought,
This had caused more damage, than his fear of a drought.
He knows he has stomachs to feed, he could not give up so soon,
He told himself to start again, and work till the rise of the moon.
He ignored the devastating fears that happened to cross his mind,
The courage to hold yourself up, is what in a true hero you find.
He returned home when it was dark, and did not utter to many words,
By now all the men of his ilk, had got used to hazards.
But, that is what he does,
Along with duties for the nation, protecting their families with no armor,
Being a common man of the country, that is the life of a farmer.

The burden of taxes, and the cost of hunger,
The wealth of the farmer, the markets which plunder,
Determination and hard work, could not change much,
The family lost their appetite, the conditions were such,
The food they cry for, are wasted in towns,
Beyond all the spoilt city children, there are rural life frowns.
Pressure to earn, from all direction it comes,
The suffering households surviving, on barely few crumbs.
Just because they’re poor, does not mean they don’t mind depriving their
Families of mirth,
But sadly, their troubles are at greater extremes, because of a less privileged birth.

Too many thoughts crowding his mind, the hero begins to turn weak,
All the hopes and optimism, is now floating down the creek.
No choice left in hand, all he finds is despair,
Hunger had reached the greatest limits, and sadness beyond compare.
He walks one night, to an old tree; he didn’t have much faith, to look before
He’d leap’
He tied a rope, on the branch sticking out, with a hole in the middle for his head,
He tightened it around his neck, as his cheeks began to turn blood red.
He apologized to his loved ones, for taking such a step in pain,
He thought he had no option left, except for this impulsive bane.
He thanked God for the his years, and cried for giving up on the happiness
of his children and wife.
He kicked the rock and died right there, having a final farewell with life.
But, that is what he ends up doing,
Burdened with the duties for the nation, protecting their families with no armor,
Being a common man of the country, that is the death of a farmer.


In the house of the mourned
She stood head bowed down and erects isolate silently
Hands together eyes closed singing the peaceful song of death,
Remembering every memory shared and promise kept
She wept alone on the floor, she was
Shattered to pieces
Gathering altogether their adventures and experiences
Safety in herself locking them inside
Moments of joy and sorrow
There to abide
She knew she’d fine him up above
Looking down at her with his childish smirk
It was the funeral nonetheless
The scent of the flowers landed the rest
The harmony playing in the background
Tears of pity and remembrance all around
But when she stood there to pay her respect
Roses in her hands and a neat black dress
Pyramid proud more than ever
All she could do looking down at his grave
Was smile back at him, being brave
His stories of war flew across the ears
Listening around, but hers int
Knowing deep in her heart
Not in presence but in love,
He was never truly apart.


You laugh, you share,
As a shoulder to support and hand to hold,
You are always there.
We jump and we hop,
Falling along the way,
Picking each other and pulling us back
Together always we stay.
We live in our fantasies,
We love and we lease.
To the rest of the world,
Crazy may we seem
But at least we are together, sharing the same dream
I trust you to help me
On every path of the way,
Fight and argue but forgive every day,
Never judge or comment,
But mostly, to make my fears go away,
To this friendship, I commit.
In laughter and sorrow,
A promise full fit.

What Life Is To Me

Life should to beautiful
As graceful and joyful,
As free and loving,
As fearless and caring
Chasing your goal,
Discovering, the unknown
Being honest and respectful,
Doing all that’s blissful
Laughing along the way,
Falling on the ground, you lay,
Picking yourself and packing in your dreams everyday
Not the end but the journey is to crave,
Time is a friend,
It makes life worthy or a disgrace,
Be charitable, be happy,
Be responsible for your today
Living is to be in reality
Embracing all the perks and faults,
Everything is what it seems,
That is life if it were a dream

A Farmer’s Life

The sun was shining classically,
The wind was blowing peacefully as narrated always,
The trees danced on the beats of the beautiful spring morning,
The weather was to be cherished
Fertility and richness spread till far in all directions
And solace knocked on the door of every hut.

The farmer had a glow on his face
His daughter would go to school that day
It was not a smile he felt the weight of the way
It was some satisfaction that come
He ploughed till his hand begun to hurt
He walked till his bare legs burnt
His head band was soaked in sweat
His shoulder dropped from the burden of his debt
But with all said
He continued dely to be able to afford his daily breed

Life is hard till the end
But even the end is hard to get
But living for in this world full of worry,
There miseries don’t end with those you every
He leaves not only his memory behind,
But also helpless families alone inthis world, blind,
No male, no money, more sorrow and hidden penny,
He was in unimaginable plain
His daily prayer were for some merciful rain
Even during the best days
The tedious jobs still remain
Not appreciated, never thanked
The file of a farmer hangs finely on the usability of a piece of land

Every day is new
Sunny and blue
Every night is bright
Overcast with shining stars in the light/with starlight
Every song is blessed
Birds chirping in their nest
Every dew drops
Nourishing the mildew of summer crops
The sun’s rays reflect
The innocence the pleasant winds get
The innocence and joy
Like that of the poor farm boy
The farm boy who know not more
Than the happiness of the warmth after a good down pour
This meant business
It was time to ready the truck
God finally graced upon him, some good luck
But luck never stands
And pain never leaves
Down came the thunder to strike him with greire
Lord knows what would happen
It was his way of punishing men
For all their greed and gold
Wrapped around their hearts stone cold
But there he was, just a boy
Left alone to tend
In front of god’s wrath he had to bend
In terms of money, he had none
In terms of food
He could make do on state bun
Only a few more days he promised himself
Although the nights felt like years in themselves
He sang himself to sleep
A song by his father about the daffodils and mountain to steep
All he had was a memory
A memory of his father singing of his sheep
It wasn’t much to weep
It was his choices which he reaped
In the depth of his young heart, he knew
A good man, his father
And would have survived
The hardships of a simple farmer’s life
But all the anger he lived
Ate him up much earlier
In his own despair he dived
The thought of his hardly crossed him mind
And all the hate with pitiness was bind
It hung around his neck
Strings knotted in a rope
Tied like a garland of lost hope
It was under badly sad
He was all his son ever had
But life went on
And time flew by
On remembering his misery, one could only but sigh
In the shacks by born that he built
Every night, his heir lay
The little boy trying hard not to die
Hunger was an often acquainted friend
His groaning stomach couldn’t take the pain
Life drove a hard bargain
Full of pure and cruel and more strain
A scarred childhood was the honesty of his life,
It was a never ending strife
Yet he fought on barely escaping the sounds
Like a wounded soldier on the marching grounds
He took to his heart the bullets of poverty
Throughout history, his scars ran deep
A small boy with the will of a man
Never letting go
He continued even till the end

The Evening Snow/Christmas Eve

Hung along the streets,
The bright Christmas light.
There were snowy days and merry nights,
Thick coats of white enroabed the woods
While all the robin hoods,
Swept through the hidden farm house goods.
It was not a selfish pay,
But for the poor who pray.
The year had to end in glee,
All chapel bell ringing free,
The village gathering had begun,
New promises were to come.
Stopped before each house,
Air full of spirit and zeal,
And jolly people of the street
Wishing everyone a good night sleep.
Prayers flew and laughter cheered
Still miles ahead, hope geared,
Joined all around the frozen lake,
Waiting for the first christmas
Day snow flake.

Breaking Away

You know we’ll be legends
When they call out our names
To the depth of our desires
Fire will rage
Not knowing In a world changing by by the second,
We will be embraced what comes tomorrow
We fall ahead
Full throttle and hearts pumping
Mere adventures await
Expectations break us down
But curiosity burlds us back
In the desert of the unknown, we lure
Afraid of our fears back we curl
But it is the greed for a new challenge
That keeps us sunning
Mixed up in our own imaginations
We keep improving
Every journey scars us
With memories that makes us who we are
Chasing away our fears
Facing our etstades
Believing in ourselves, accepting what we see
That is life breaking free


Related image

I am by my own conscience a fetter,
My deeds have made me nothing better.
It is my choice whether to change,
But my will is what remains.
Yesterday was fine, today is the same
Tomorrow is the only thing that can be arranged,
But change is not always better,
Fruits don’t grow on all trees,
I am not good
But good is a perspective,
My luck was never repaying,
But luck is a fickle mind’s playing
My condition was poor,
In faith, I wasn’t any truer.
I am in guilt but I am with reason so.
I am in dread of what I have become,
A man with no morals, silent and numb.

As a young man, I promised myself I would stand on my cost,
Age brings desperation, my principles lost.
It is the need not the want that I must,
The need to be able to stand in society,
Flying in the sky, above the hard crust.
I had to succeed,
Failure wasn’t an option, call it greed.
I gave parts of me away on the way,
Losing more in morality than I gained
A part of me always tried to judge the right from the wrong,
But in vain, a poor man I was no long
Now, a rich man standing strong
I am in dread of what I have become,
A man with no morals, silent and numb.

In expense today, I am a man of credit
Respected for my hard-earned merit,
But society shades away the dark secrets,
Concealing it behind its perfect titles.
I am forgotten as a man of ambition and honesty,
But pay no pity; my actions have made me wealthy.
Riches in its fame is tempting,
But the name itself is unforgiving,
It sheds you of every drop of pride,
Changes your character, strengthens your personality.
Because today, life is an unending strife,
Every opportunity has a price.
It is a battle where every warrior tries,
One emerges victorious and everyone else is left behind.
They can beg, they can pray, they can cry,
But that is the ruthlessness of today’s life
That is the price I paid for my throne,
The bargain I made, sacrifices at the time unknown.
I am in dread of what I have become,
A man with no morals, silent and numb.

Even a rotting plant once was growing green,
Spreading gardens everywhere it gleamed.
Even a criminal once had a mother,
Who held him to her chest praying for him no suffer.
Even a wicked man once had a smile,
One he wore every family night.
I have no one dear,
No one I trust, no one I consider near,
It is my era,
I am a worshiped man of power
But loyalty is faithless,
For out of fear it is worthless.
I am in dread of what I have become,
A man with no morals, silent and numb.

I am what my conditions have driven me to be,
I am who my own people wanted me to be,
I am who people desire to be,
But I am not who I choose to be.
I have a constant burden,
With the duties and expectations of today
With the cruel criticisms, I am laden.
I wish to be honest, subtle and fair.
Remarking this world as a stage not a devil’s lair.
But today is a race and so is tomorrow,
A challenge to be faced,
In joy or in sorrow,
I can choose to stop,
To fall back in grace,
Or I can choose to fight,
To win in hate.

I choose to play,
I choose to race,
Because that is what the world has made me today,
A disgrace to integrity and honor,
An inspiration among modern men
Creeping up in the dark shadows of treachery and betrayal,
Merciless, we crawl ahead,
Man is a greedy monster.
A wrong step, and down with him, you he takes,
I’d rather be a worthless man in this sick world of today
Than a worthy boy living in yesterdays grace
For in today’s times, money pays,
Not honor that is but a reputation to praise
I will always be in dread of what I have chosen to become,
A man with no morals, silent, wealthy and numb.

Ashna Agarwal
May 13,2017.

My meeting with the ‘top cop’, Rakesh Maria

A meeting with the former Commissioner of Police in Mumbai and the Director-General of Home Guards happens normally in one of the two situations; one your actions have landed you behind bars or two, you have done something extremely noble and credible. Hopefully I will never be in the first situation and let’s agree the latter is not a commonly occurring trait in the life of a simple teenage girl like me.

People say, you can tell a wise man when you see one but you can tell a man of experience only when you talk to one. Mr. Rakesh Maria is an example fit for both. I consider myself beyond lucky to get an opportunity to have a small conversation with such an accomplished man, to say the least.

Rakesh Maria, the top cop in Mumbai is not only a strong, self-restrained and decisive man of honor but also a very coherent and eloquent speaker. I had the privilege of meeting with him at the 75th birthday celebration of my maternal grandfather who in his own way has been a friend and support for Mr. Maria.

I only truly realized the grueling lifestyle of a man serving his country through the speech given by Mr. Maria – the hardships, the criticisms, the setbacks, and the strenuousness of this profession are incessant yet impactful.

I could not have imagined that a man of his stature would ever have to face flak. His influential yet very humble personality ought to welcome several accolades for him. I was moved to see how Mr. Maria acknowledged the simple yet selfless and rock solid advice given by my grandfather to stand by your principles and morals in thick or thin.

A life of service and duty is an incredibly honorable yet arduous life but then again it is an opportunity to make a difference. It’s not like the common man doing a regular job has an easy life either but it is the man standing guard on the roads, investigating unending crime who risks his life to save ours, it is he who puts his neck on the line for his nation and its people.

Service towards mankind and above all an undying sense of patriotism are some of the few things that describe Mr. Maria. His line of profession is more painful and exasperating than not and yet he is a happy, satisfied man for he knows that he is not sitting on the sidelines watching and commenting on the acts of horror that we hear of daily.

He is the instrument of change, change that we so desperately need in our society and social fabric.

This stands true for every man today, if you want a change, be the change. The police force of our country is working relentlessly to bring that change we all so carelessly talk about. Mr. Maria and all respected men and women in uniform are truly inspirational. He proved to me today that love and service for your country is not an uncommon trait and that nationalism did not end with the end of the British dominion in India.


This is to Mr. Rakesh Maria,

Thank you Sir for your kind words, I cannot describe the gravity of the impact your words have had on an unmolded mind like mine.

Ashna Agarwal