I worried a lot. Will the garden grow, will the rivers
flow in the right direction, will the earth turn
as it was taught, and if not how shall
I correct it?
Was I right, was I wrong, will I be forgiven,
can I do better?
Will I ever be able to sing, even the sparrows
can do it and I am, well,
hopeless.
Is my eyesight fading or am I just imagining it,
am I going to get rheumatism,
lockjaw, dementia?
Finally, I saw that worrying had come to nothing.
And gave it up.
And took my old body
and went out into the morning,
and sang.
How/When/Why of me…
I’m Aqsa – a writer who’s trying perpetually to be more mindful, more present with every moment.
Entering 30s, I am realizing I was never made for hustle. Nobody is, truly.
To me, slowing down is a form of resistance, an attempt to retain the humanness of experiences, an act of beauty.
My house is filled with books that have travelled with me over geographies and conditions, seven plants blossoming forever and teaching me new ways to live every single day, and (the latest) – a rescued cat who is the prettiest manifestation of love (if there could ever be one).
Why Do I Write?
I write to express and to connect.
Writing is my medium. A way to slow down, witness, and hold space for the raw truth of being.
This space is my offering to you: a place where words meet wellness, and where you are invited to slow down and reconnect. A place where language sits with you.
Here, I write about the art of mindful living.
Mindfulness, to me, isn’t a trend or a checklist. It’s the language of presence, the practice of noticing what really matters, and the courage to live honestly.
I believe that when we live mindfully, we begin to change everything: ourselves, our homes, and the world.
Writing is art for me – done in stillness and Tahreek (an Urdu word for movement).
I believe the world, even in its madness, still deserves to be held, witnessed, named.
I attempt to do that through words.
Step Into My World
You are a connection seeking being. So am I. We all find meaning in small things – a poetic verse, an article for the thoughts, a mindful interaction with a bird or an idle Thursday evening.
They all come to us through words. Language. And here is how I perceive that…