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Continue reading →: DadiFor some reason, what I remember most vividly about her is her eyelids. They reminded me of aam papad. The sweet, moist snack made of mangoes and sugar syrup. As I begrudgingly lay next to her for our afternoon nap, she often narrated an old folklore to me, with her…
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Continue reading →: Zabaan
कुछ अजीब सा रिश्ता है तुम्हारे साथ, अकेले में जब बैठती हूँ, तो प्यार से बाहें फैला के तुम ही मेरे पास आती हो, रात के सन्नाटे में जब नींद नहीं आती, तुम्हारी ही गोद में सोती हूँ, तुम्हारे साथ वक़्त कम मिलता है अब, लेकिन जब भी दिल के…
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Continue reading →: Tossed Salads & Scrambled EggsWell, well, well. A moment of silence for all my grandiose plans of updating my blog timely. It seems the older I get, the more difficult it gets to express my truest emotions. It’s as if my thoughts are getting chunkier, and the sieve of my mind, finer. When I…
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Continue reading →: Dear 21-Year-Old-Me
Dear 21-year-old me, I knew I was going to write this letter to you many years ago, and when do I finally write it? On the very last day. Some things about you are never going to change. Well, never is still too strong a word, but they won’t change…
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Continue reading →: The MonasteryI find myself standing in a long queue in a dimly-lit hall. There’s an aisle leading up to a door framed by thick, heavy curtains. Long, steely corridors. Red granite floors. Sunlight struggling to permeate through the dark tapestries. I see a young man in a maroon toga, scrambling down…
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 