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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…
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Continue reading →: Twenty NineThe last few weeks have been quite conflicting. Diwali was at home. Amidst a delicious potluck party, gorgeous cotton sarees, tons of chai, and long UNO sessions coupled with soulful conversations, I felt welcome and truly at peace. I realise the value of family every time I go back there…
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Continue reading →: A Guide to Living with AsthaHello there, dear readers On Astha’s 29th birthday, I’ve been given the chance to contribute to her blog as a guest writer. Given the fact that only two others in her life have been invited to write in before me, it’s a matter of great honour and pleasure for me.…
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Continue reading →: QuietI took the day off from work. I woke up feeling completely drained and overwhelmed. Everything in life suddenly felt too… demanding. My doctor told me recently that I’ve been going through a bit of a “hormonal turmoil.” I’m supposed to exercise every day and eat right. Seeing as I’m…
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Continue reading →: If Baba Planned His Own Farewell PartyHe would have planned ahead. Like he always did. He would have retrieved his hardbound notebook and made a guest list first. His ball pen leaving tiny blobs of ink on the paper as he wrote. Baba was all about plans and schedules. Obviously, there would have been a time-table…
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 