Not-so-Tender Tidings

August arrived in a frenzy but disappeared unnoticed. Just like the whole of 2020 mostly will. More on 2020 later though. It isn’t always I’m derailed from routine. But at times, it isn’t even under my own control. And no matter how natural that is, it is unnerving. Mostly because, there’s always so much to…

Read More

Trivial Treasures

[III] I think about you. At times, I am thinking all day. Between talks, between breaths, between blinks. Guess that happens when you’re daydreaming, about fantasies, about impossibilities, endlessly. With me, though, there are prolonged spells when it is hard to tell if I really want them or if I just love the idea of…

Read More

Close to Lost – A Memoir

The light’s a dim yellow. Just the way you liked. I leave it that way. Each night. For seven hundred and thirty one nights. Exactly two years. I stare at the ceiling, and then some at the walls. They stare back. Blank. They’re lost too. At times, they move. The window panes on the ceiling,…

Read More

Nights and mornings, all feel the same. I can’t tell one from the other. And yet, when I look at the walls around me, everything’s changed. When and how, is what I’m left with. Feels like an age has passed in the blink of an eye. Some I wish to see, are far far away.…

Read More

Wild

no storms were bold enough no waves as wild as this hundred-year old heart and this five-year old mind   How do you like my new micropoetry format? Like it? No? Do share your thoughts below. Follow @themusingquill on Instagram for more poetry. I await you there. 🙂 ~~~~~ Asha Seth

Read More

कल…

चलते चलते कदम नहीं थकते ठहर जाने से थकते हैं यह सोचकर परेशान नहीं दिल की कल की सुबह आज सी नहीं होगी पर इस सोच में डूबा रेहता है की आज की शाम कल सी हुई तोह क्या डर इस बात का नहीं की कल अपने मुँह मोड़ लें फिक्र इस बात की होती…

Read More

Ruins

when I returned lost and beaten through the woods to reach where I belong no one was there to welcome me except the scorching trail and the ruins beyond ~~~~~ Asha Seth

Read More

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…

Read More

January

December with all its damp left me happier than January with all the sun could 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

Read More

Sweet Nothings!

He looked into my face, turned away, and stared again. I wondered what it was he was searching. Whether he found it. Whether not. I tried to make out from the way his eyes scanned the lines of my face. How did I look to stranger eyes? His gaze rested on my lips. Maybe the…

Read More

One Last Time…

What can be hoped after your last chance is snatched away? What can you say when a debris of words clogs your throat, gnaws at your brain? What remains when your heart’s tired of being numb? What can be done, when that ‘one last time’ never comes? ~~~~~ Asha Seth

Read More

Indifference

it doesn’t matter  whether days fuse into nights or seas dissolve into the skies you carry on breathing the same air eating the same dust as the day you were born like the day after you die ~~~~~ Asha Seth

Read More

पतझड़ और वो…

जब मिले हम उस पतझड़ से कुछ इस कदर डूबे उसकी ख़ूबसूरती में की यह पूछना भूल गए वह आएंगे भी या बस उनकी यादें साथ लाये हो उसकी बाहों में सिमट यह बोलना भूल गए इंतज़ार हमें वो करवाते हैं पर हमारी तन्हाई को सीने से तुम लगा लेते हो ~~~~~ आशा सेठ

Read More

Longings

stars tiptoed behind the clouds as longings were set free night after night ~~~~~ 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  

Read More

Dear papa, This heart’s broken into pieces, forever; there’s no denying that now. It bleeds barrels. I can’t seem to be able to put it together. No matter how hard I try, it crumbles like a castle, into a thousand tiny grains of sand at the slightest memory of you. There’s an ache that threatens…

Read More

The Bus Stop – A Short Story

It struck twelve. ‘Twelve in the night is an odd time to be in a small village, especially for a girl’, a man whispered not very far from me. I cringed at the shaky voice. It heavily smelt of booze. Suddenly, I was not alone anymore, and that frightened me more. The man moved away…

Read More

Forlorn but not Forgotten

Getting back after you’ve fallen down is easy. Getting back trying to live after life’s mercilessly clobbered you in the back, is a different deal altogether. One can’t begin to live just like they did. You realise you can’t so readily trust, not even life. Taking dad away from me was worse than betrayal. I…

Read More

Reunion

after a decade they denied recognition but their happy hounds wagged their tails at the unexpected reunion ~~~~~ 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

Read More

It’s been a while I’ve wanted to write and tell you things. Tell you why I’ve not been around of late. I couldn’t gather the courage. For I know, the pain that I feel, you’d feel too. But here I am. Finally. Making a lackadaisical attempt. Exactly, a year ago, this time, I had jotted…

Read More

Answers with No Questions

Because that’s just how it is…….. Because such is life…….. Because even if for the fraction of a second, you had it, you would want it forever………. Because you have to just accept that’s how things will be…………. Because you have to go on living as if nothing had happened………… Because no matter what you…

Read More

Would it matter?

would it matter if the rising sun was purple the sinking moon amber if what we cried were not salted tears but only plain water would it matter if meadows were black and storms mellow if elephants chirped and squirrels bellowed if lions were striped and zebras spotted if we walked backward to reach ahead would…

Read More