Poems by Aakriti Sharma

My introduction

a poem by

Aakriti Sharma

I’m the image Aakriti.
Aavriti’s repetition made me
perfect in my field.

Vimal’s pleasant smell
opened me to you.

Renu’s support inculcated in me
the confidence ever required.

And undoubtedly,
without your support
and guiding path.

I would not have been able
to create the Aakrities of nature.

And your blessings
are my Image.

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A Photograph

a poem by

Aakriti Sharma

A girl of eight,
asked her grandpa
may I take a photograph of Ya?
He was pleased and agreed.
He asked Grand Ma,
where are my clothes?
Where are my shoes?
Our Grand D. has come;
to click me.
But, Alas! He failed.
He could find only his shirt.
And asked her to click the upper part.
Say Cheese!!!
and click….
With an air of excitement asked he,
when do I get my photograph?
The answer came-
In a few minutes grandpa!
As the girl came,
she asked for her chocolate money.
When her soul got contented,
She showed the photograph to her grandpa.
Expressionless, worried, smiling,
What do we do now sort of expression.
It was not him.
It was his lower part.

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Rules

a poem by

Aakriti Sharma

My sister did a lot of teasing ‘n’
black mailing.
And if smacked,
cried and scratched my hair,
gave me hard kicks.
So my parents made some rules:
to prevent me from her beating.
I wished they would have made
me one more rule,
to prevent me from her biting.

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My Interview

a poem by

Aakriti Sharma

It was dark night at eight.
When a man came to take
my interview.
And I didn’t know,
what he was up to.
I looked conscious, frightened
and a bit excited.
He asked the questions
for which I had no choice.
I gave what I had.
Now, its up to him
what he feels about my intentions.

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Little Things

a poem by

Aakriti Sharma

Little things do matter,
Even if its day or night.
A kettle if shaken clatters;
which gives a wonderful fright.

Of little things, the people say,
It lightens the mind.
Does; of course, gives a way
Sheer waste of time to find.

As the eggs of hens,
Does matter little things.
Small small pens,
need a bit of ink.

As such your brain,
doesn’t even cost a pence.
It’s not a bowl of drain,
Just needs some common sense.

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Just one

a poem by

Aakriti Sharma

The nation is one,
The foundation is one,
The religion is one,
The region is one.

The worshipper is one,
The monuments are one,
The mountain is one,
The rivers are one.

The theory is one,
The troubles are one,
The life is one,
What’s more???

The people are one.

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Kargil

a poem by

Aakriti Sharma

The latest issue of the Indian philosophy;
is not Mr. Vajpayee or Mr. Bill,
But the very unhandy -KARGIL.
It is unmanageable, unhandy and
moreover uncomfortable.

There are several people
who have gone to the Kargil.
Left Behind their family, Luxury,
entertainments.
And left for the country.

But they,
the connotes,
can just be a role model,
for the whole country.

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History

a poem by

Aakriti Sharma

History is a mystery.
Kings coming one by one,
capturing, plundering,
looting all over.

Queens and specially girls,
cannot come out of their homes.
Why?
No rights? No directives?

But one interesting thing,
they had a well equipped army.
Hoped that we had the same.
Only a hope.

This is History.
A Mystery
solved by a bard.

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Parents are the best

a poem by

Aakriti Sharma

The T.L.C. which they gave me;
was marvellous.
The one who saved me,
from the picky ways of my life;
are they?
They cried for me at times,
and still,
no one came from the heavens.
The one who spend for me,
all of theirs
are they?
The comfort given by them,
can no one give.

Hence…
East or West,
Parents are The Best…

T – Tender
L – Loving
C – Care

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Needy and buskers

a poem by

Aakriti Sharma

A king offers gifts to the poor,
A child shares toys with his friends,
A mother gives all the nutrients to the child,
A father does all the hard work for his family.

A doctor tries as hard to save a life,
A militant doesn’t worry his life,
A chemist finds the cause of tears,
A life guard saves a small life.

No Matter,
How hard they try,
Can they beat the needy?
Can they diatribe the buskers?
Still???

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I worry about…

a poem by

Aakriti Sharma

I worry about the days ‘n’ nights
I worry about the upflying flights
I worry about the children in danger
I worry about the species endangered

I worry about the slipping time
I worry about the words to rhyme
I worry about the spirits o’ today
I worry about the fish in the bay.

There are so many things
to worry in life.
How long do I
keep worrying about things?

There’s no one to help me
in this work
The majority says
STOP WORRYING!
Be what you wanna be
accepting things as they come.

I worry about what I wanna be…

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Happy Christmas

a poem by

Aakriti Sharma

The people are running here ‘n’ there,
The crowd is dancing all over with joy.
The houses, smell tremendously good,
The people are making delicious food.

The people are practicing to eat,
‘Coz they are going to have
A wonderful treat.
Children are eating cakes ‘n’ pastries.
The fruits of their formerly done deeds.

There is no mutt.
People are wearing muslin
Myrtle growing everywhere

People are mustering
Standing in the nave
The river is having a neap tide
What’s all this creation for?
It is Christmas Day.

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Early nouns of the world

a poem by

Aakriti Sharma

The sky happened to be sunny,
Children counted money.
Families planned to go somewhere,
Children ran here ‘n’ there.

I was up to some mischief,
Neither the parents knew
Nor the chief,
I went to the cupboard of jam,
But took out honey ‘n’ ham.

Hopeless to bear that imagination,
That was the last day
Of my examination.

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