Day 622: When Dad left for his Maker

There is this song that makes me miss you so much. The song I speak of is Alone by Alan Walker. I do not know who's the singer. But something is different about the music. It takes me to a place I so want to be. And I know that place is nowhere. Because no... Continue Reading →

Memories – Micropoetry

A thousand roses couldn't smell so poignantly as some memories did from a hundred years ago Follow @badbookthief on Instagram for more micropoetry. Happy writing till we meet next. Until then, carpe diem! 🙂 ~~~~~ © Asha Seth Stay in touch. Subscribe Now: Youtube| Twitter| Instagram| Facebook| Tumblr

पुरानी यादों को निचोड़कर कभी ख़ुशी तो कभी ग़म पी लिया करते हैं जब याद तुम आते हो दुनिया से छिपकर रो लिया करते हैं अपनी खामियों पर खुद को जी भरके कोस लिया करते हैं जब याद तुम आते हो दुनिया से छिपकर रो लिया करते हैं तुम्हारे वादों में ज़िन्दगी का मकसद ढूंढ... Continue Reading →

365 Days. 93 Books. 14 Cities.

2019 steps out the door and I am thinking of events that happened this year. I've known people to calibrate their year based on the good and bad times. I feel that is rather depressing because psychologically, in the end you are left pondering about everything that turned out different from your expectations. I don't... Continue Reading →

Day 365: When Dad left for his Maker…

Dear Dad, You're gone a year today and you'll want to know this. I don't cry today. I don't look back. I don't ponder over the ifs and whys? I don't think it matters. I don't curse anyone. Nor do I regret life. But let me tell you this, I also feel I don't have... Continue Reading →

Day 282: When Dad left for his Maker

Imagining life without someone, when have we ever given that a thought? I was the same. But with you gone, life has taken an unexpected turn. I am now looking at things, I never gave a thought. I am reminiscing over events, that once craved my attention. I am lusting for certain aches, that once... Continue Reading →


दीवारों की दरारों में छुपी ज़र्द यादें पास जाकर देखा कभी मेरा बचपन सतह पर तैरता कभी दादी का बुढ़ापा कनखियों से झाँकता खिड़कियों के पार से सन्नाटे ताकते कभी होली में रंगे माँ-बाबा की झलक तो कभी बिदाई में सजी अन्नू का अक्स खाली कमरों में गूंजते हँसी के पटाखे कभी पापा के ठहाके... Continue Reading →


चुपके से दबे पाओं आकर मेरे दिल में तुम्हारी बातें कुछ ऐसे बसेरा कर गयीं की आज मुझसे ज़्यादा कहीं तुम हो झलकती उन आइनों से जिनमें मैं कभी खुदको तलाशता था ~~~~~ आशा सेठ

The Hate I Harbored

Time wasn't on our side. Today, when it is too late, I convince myself thus. Maybe I wasn't the right age to understand. Maybe you were too harsh that I suffered in vain. Maybe I comprehended you wrong. Maybe you misunderstood me much. I believed you knew what you were doing. Unleashing a world of... Continue Reading →

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