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, To Have Loved, The Tyranny of Truth, The Mango Grove at Kashipur, The Rabbit's Tale, The Misadventures of a Flying Horse, A Pigeon and I, Till the End of Time, Think Poetry, Think Haikus, The Shepherd Said, Three Cheers for Poetry, The Beauty of Silence and Balm for the Soul. His book Fruit Salad has been translated into both Chinese and Persian. He writes in Urdu too and now has four books to his credit.He has a book of short stories, 11 Short Stories, published in the UK. He has also written books for children in English and Hindi.

Ashok is prolific, no doubt, and his choice of subjects very varied. He has a book of haikus already published and another is on its way. His new interest is blank verse and he threatens a book all a blanka . 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, To Have Loved, The Tyranny of Truth, The Mango Grove at Kashipur, The Rabbit's Tale, The Misadventures of a Flying Horse, A Pigeon and I, Till the End of Time, Think Poetry, Think Haikus, The Shepherd Said, Three Cheers for Poetry and The Beauty of Silence. His book Fruit Salad has been translated into both Chinese and Persian. He writes in Urdu too and now has four books to his credit.He has a book of short stories, 11 Short Stories, published in the UK. He has also written books for children in English and Hindi.

The more he writes, and ages as he does, his writings are becoming more mystic and contemplative, quite naturally so, since that is what time does to us all. The title itself speaks volumes, for silence can be deafening. In his case it seems to be serene and beautiful. His love for art, literature and the ner side of life nds expression in his earlier books: The Sands of Time, As Time Goes By, Fruit Salad, Chequerboard, To Have Loved, The Tyranny of Truth, The Mango Grove at Kashipur, The Rabbit's Tale, The Misadventures of a Flying Horse, A Pigeon and I, Till the End of Time, Think Poetry, Think Haikus, The Shepherd Said and Three Cheers for Poetry. His book Fruit Salad has been translated into both Chinese and Persian. He writes in Urdu too and now has four books to his credit. He has a book of short stories, 11 Short Stories, published in the UK. He has also written books for children in English and Hindi.

Three Cheers for Poetry is instinctive, describing how a chance happening got Ashok Sawhny to start writing, seven years ago, at the ripe old age of seventy. An amalgam of verse, this one is just as diverse as his earlier work. No particular theme is pursued.

It seems as though poetry is Ashok Sawhny's new lease of life. It's a seemingly endless out-pouring of human emotion, commentary on the world today, some bits of philosophical thought and a little preaching (which he has, himself, termed as dangerous for we are human with our foibles and frailties).

Ashok Sawhny has in his six years of writing been prolific in the writing of poetry, both in English & Urdu, with eleven and three books, respectively, having been published. This collection of short stories is the beginning of his writing prose. The stories all seem to be based in England, perhaps, because of the time that he has spent in that country. It is indeed interesting to see a poet turn to writing prose. He is also working on another set of stories based elsewhere.

Ashok Sawhny has in his ten earlier books covered a wide spectrum of subjects, emotions and life itself. This volume is no different. Think Poetry, Think Haikus, also deals with variety. There is pathos, inwardness, a look at the past, optimism, the beauty of Nature and the reality of life, as in the poem, Hibiscus. There is also some writing on the daily happenings of common folks - all of us, for we are all no more than that, as the poet himself says. 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, To Have Loved, The Tyranny of Truth, The Mango Grove at Kashipur, The Rabbit's Tale, The Misadventures of a Flying Horse, a Pigeon, and I and Till the End of Time. His book Fruit Salad has been translated both into Chinese and Persian. He has two books of poetry published in Urdu.

This collection of Ashok Sawhny's poems seems more introspective and diversified than his earlier work. It also covers the full spectrum of life's emotions, desires, failings & frustrations and, while it rightly offers no solutions, it does deal with the need for each one of us to reach our destinies and find our own paths to happiness. An observant onlooker you must be, and see where she takes you, Destiny.

There are three worlds in Ashok's poetic cosmos: the first entails strife, spin and dangerous choices; the second is the place where we're all going, the inn we visit in our old age; and the third is the celestial - where the stars wheel and tumble, where the moon shines its beautiful light and yields to the harsh blaze of the sun, and where creation is still happening. So while Ashok's approach is personal, he also sounds a note of universal concern, applauding nature's majesty; deploring man's lies, arrogance and futile materialism. He also looks over his shoulder at his motherland, to the mango grove at Kashipur, and has a gentle laugh at the expense of Indian politics. Life's a circus, after all, and we must find happiness in 'the little things' as well as the great. Maybe these ninety-plus poems are among those small transports of delight; maybe they're our rickshaws to a better day.

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

For his fifth volume of verse, Ashok Sawhny has brought his poetic skills to bear on a wide variety of subjects, from the diversions of the West to shady politicians on the Indian subcontinent. If the overall tone of this collection is elegiac, it is because the author, as a grandparent observing the world from his conservatory or writing den, has seen much of life, and seen much of it go wrong. Of course, family is a plus point, a blessing; but what of man's dealings with nature? What of his restless, destructive greed - so admirably depicted in the disturbing poem 'Temptation'? While reminding us of the genuine rewards of the natural world and the passions that can lift us off the dusty ground to undreamt-of pinnacles, the author's satirical side is clear in his forty-three stanza poem 'Nonsensical Verses'. Of the longer poems, 'Would I Go Live Elsewhere?' reflects a settler's contentment, while in many of the shorter pieces there is a quiet optimism, a gentle affirmation of faith that speaks to the heart: If in all of this I see, disguised, The Unseen Hand, I am not surprised. ASHOK SAWHNY was born in Lahore, Punjab, in 1937. The family moved to New Delhi, India after Partition in 1947. Schooled at Modern School 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 previous books The Sands of Time, As Time Goes By and Fruit Salad. He also writes in Urdu language.

I've known you now for so very long, I look at you and burst into song. From the moment we digest these opening lines of Ashok Sawhny's paean of praise to London town, we capture the exuberant mood of an author determined to find beauty - and humour - in his surroundings. He may be versifying on the golf swing, the Enstrom 480B helicopter or Indian elections - 'Long live the electorate - so long as they vote for me and my mate ' - or reflecting on the sands of time against a glowing sunset. Whatever the setting, a genial cynicism and wry acceptance of the workings of fate colour and inform these hundred-plus poems. True, there is an aknowledged darker side to life, contrasting with the brightness of our days of love and laughter; hence the Chequerboard. But as the world welcomes a new US President in the White House, the author looks to mankind to respond positively. And that is what his readers are bound to do. AUTHOR BIO: Ashok Sawhny was born in Lahore, Punjab, in 1937. The family moved to New Delhi, India after Partition in 1947. Schooled at Modern School 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 previous books The Sands of Time, As Time Goes By and Fruit Salad. He also writes in Urdu language.

Ashok Sawhny's second volume of poetry focuses on charming scenes from nature and everyday life on the one hand, and the 'big issues' of our times on the other. In the longer pieces he discusses with some vexation the problems of borders and ideological divides [Kashmir and Partition], and possibly his finest work is revealed in the wide-ranging An Interpretation of History. Dictators, peacemakers, film stars, politicos and beasts of the field and jungle all rub shoulders in this refreshing collection, with its quirky metaphors and amusing rhymes. As the collection nears its end we reach a selection of aphorisms in prose and verse that reflect the author's nostalgic but slightly cynical stance as he surveys fallen empires, mankind in self-destruct mode, and the enigmatic web of fate that involves us all.

There is a message of hope in these delightful poems that seems to match the 'I've seen it all and survived' tone of the collection. Writing in agreeably idiosyncratic verse, Ashok Sawhny looks back on the dreamworld of childhood - 'The Stars of Lahore' - and considers carefully the world his own grandchildren have inherited. He pokes fun at Man's greed and destruction - 'Mammon' and 'Global Warming, and all that' - and celebrates Nature, God's creatures, and what he calls 'The Drama of Life'. Indeed, his most touching poems concern the mysteries of time, falling in love and family life. By contrast, the 'Tribute to the Guardians of our Frontiers', a stark evocation of army life, makes a telling reminder that borders printed on maps don't always relate to a reality that has to be fought over. Here we have a book of hours, a chequerboard of nights and days, of jealousy and love, and an eloquent witness to Man's strange amalgam of folly and wisdom: Wise is he who understands The hourglass principle of Time and sands