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Continue reading →: The Wayward LeafAfter all the clapping, clanking and clanging died down A crisp, wayward leaf let go of a tree branch and landed in my balcony Like a tooth that hangs by a thread in a child’s mouth It stayed still for a while, all by its lonesome It held its breath…
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Continue reading →: Getting through itI don’t know how to deal with this coronavirus situation. None of us do. All of it seems so surreal. I feel anger, because so many people have lost their lives and their jobs. There’s widespread suffering, fear and panic. I feel grief, because none of them deserved to go…
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Continue reading →: AyeshaI have a pen friend from Pakistan The mirror to my soul, the storm to my storm A kindred spirit, as lost and as doubtful as I am She asks me innocently if we have sevai at home And gol gappe and jalebi and aloo ke parathe As if these…
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Continue reading →: What if?I want to hug myself. I really do. This February, I gave myself one of the best experiences of my life. I went to a 4-day forest festival at the Jim Corbett National Park in Uttarakhand. I went alone, befriended a ton of beautiful souls, had deep, engaging conversations, recited…
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Continue reading →: Hum DekhengeDecember 15th 2019. I was at an Urdu literary festival when the attack on Jamia University took place. Jashn-e-Rekhta. It was a crisp, beautiful winter evening and Piyush Mishra was singing one of his most famous songs: Yaara Maula. “Phir wo aaye bheed ban kar, Haath mein they unke khanjar…
Hello,
I’m Astha
Welcome to my blog. I use this space as a pensieve: a place to store my memories and feelings. It’s a rest house. An easy chair. A watering hole for the soul. I’m glad you’re here. Take a look around, make yourself at home ☕
Butterflies and Hurricanes 