the book instantly reminded me of gillu — that same tenderness mahadevi verma carried, but this time extended to real people who crossed her path. atith ke chalchitra is a set of non-fiction sketches about the guests and figures who entered her life.
each portrait feels alive. whether it’s a helper, a student, or just a stranger she notices small quirks and turns them into lasting impressions. her empathy is the thread that runs through everything.
that said, it do start to feel repetitive — the rhythm of affection, connection, and loss repeats itself. it doesn’t take away from the warmth, but it does make the reading a little predictable.