Upasna Kakroo is a writer, storyteller, and the CEO of nonprofit Peerbagh, which encourages reading and celebrates storytelling. She is the managing editor of Bento, the world’s only South-Asia–inspired children’s print magazine, and co-hosts kidlit podcast Zubaani with author Salma Hussain. Upasna brings nearly two decades of branding and strategy experience across four countries, having worked with organizations including McKinsey, the University of Michigan, and Rocket Internet.
Pronouns: She/her
What is the thing you like doing most in the world?
Kissing my son, sharing my favorite songs, and reading with him make me feel joy.
Writing fiction set in the city of my birth makes me feel alive. I have a young adult manuscript set in 1947 in Srinagar, Kashmir, when women were discouraged from education out of fear that they would not finish chores at home. The girl in this book is secretly educated by her friend using coded grocery lists. Many women at that time chose to alter their dress (as a symbol of progressiveness) and learn privately in schools that doubled as sewing centers. This quiet resistance transformed an entire community. In the past year, I enrolled in a class for writing in Nastaliq (an Urdu script). Apart from opening a literary door, it allowed me to experience my character’s feelings of being able to read words for the first time. Spoiler: it’s glorious!
Many people tell me that children or young adults are not reading historical fiction. But how do you know where you are if you don’t know where you’ve been? How do we honor the sacrifice of those before us? Stories from characters or settings different from what we see now are not just important for those with the same heritage but for everyone. As a part of our collective consciousness, they give us a chance to keep learning and unlearning to stay human. Doing this work with Peerbagh, Bento, and all my writing, is a privilege of a lifetime.
What is the first memory you have of being creative?
Starring my grandmother in a leading role, I plotted entire storylines with dialogues about a sick husband needing boiled chickpeas to fight a cold. At eight, I wanted to be a shapeshifting snake to transform from snake to human at a whim (generously borrowed from my favorite film and subcontinental myths). My sister and I spent a lot of time inventing games. We would play various versions of song games like Antakshari, and I still know so many Hindi film lyrics and tunes by heart! Songs have become the bedrock of all things I write and how I express emotions. Through school, I remember helping my mom (a teacher) create school timetables or charts for display. I often illustrated and continue with that practice now simply to be in the moment. A character sketch for Maggie Tulliver from The Mill on the Floss in grade 7 was the first serious writing piece I remember.
What is your biggest regret?
I don’t spend much energy on regrets. But since my sister died at a young age, I wish I had travelled more with her. There’s always time, if we prioritize it.
I’ve gone through an intense phase of decluttering as a part of my grief process. My life has little space for people who do not reciprocate and prioritize time in a relationship as I do. If it’s not mutual, it’s probably not a good energy match. It’s okay to choose our needs and expect kindness. I wish I had practiced this more when I was younger.
How have you gotten over heartbreak?
We live our lives knowing that one day we will lose all that we love. Yet, when loss meets us, it surprises us. I spent lots of days in the hospital with my sister when she was sick, and an urge to document took over me. I wrote on my iPhone notes app because I was afraid I was already forgetting things. All the things she shared in her state of hallucination, her nightmares, calls to me, everything I could write down, I did. One day, I woke up in her hospital room to see that she had stopped breathing. When I reached home, her daughter (3) and my son (4) were out in the backyard playing with chalk. And I clicked a photo of them that I keep on my phone. I told myself that life goes on. And it’s also a heartbreak that never ends. In the film Coco, they say, your ancestors are there as long as you remember them. I find myself with the need to remember all those I have lost. So, every day, I let the heart break and talk to me.
What makes you cry?
Songs with words that say more with less and show the infinite wonder of ordinary moments. I can be in the middle of something and hear a song by Gulzar Sahab, or anything in Rafi’s voice, and that’s the end of that. Music takes me to places that are harder to access otherwise.
I was editing a piece on the cultural history of Railways in the Indian subcontinent for Bento, when I came upon the last letter written by Indian freedom fighter, Ram Prasad Bismil. Even though it was written in 1927, it remains relevant today. It is said that Bismil mumbled the first few lines of a Ghazal by poet Bismil Azimabadi before he was hanged by the colonial empire. These couple of lines from the poem made me cry:
rahrav-e-rāh-e-mohabbat rah na jaanā raah meñ
lazzat-e-sahrā-navardī dūrī-e-manzil meñ hai
O’ traveler on the path of love, do not stop midway;
the true pleasure of wandering in the desert is in the distance to the destination.
How long does the pride and joy of accomplishing something last for you?
I metabolize success quickly. Part of owning my creativity has also been unlearning the corporate urge to go to the next item on the to-do list before giving myself space for reflection.
Do you believe in an afterlife, and if so, what does that look like to you?
I think our souls are forever, and like we change clothes, souls change bodies. I also think our loved ones speak to us in dreams and songs. I believe a tree, a stone, a monkey, and an elephant can all have the Paramatma, or the universal soul or gods within them. The idea of a soul existing beyond us shows us how we are connected to everything around us. To me, it feels like the humility of not knowing all the secrets of the Universe. All this comes from the culture I was raised in, so I’ve not had to invent the myths but to understand them.
What do you hate most about yourself?
I do not hate much. Sometimes I wish that I was less impulsive and more prepared. But I learn more from failures than perfect attempts, so it’s not something I worry about. I’ve worked hard in therapy to see anger as a masking emotion and to focus on where it’s coming from. Without help, I wasn’t always in control of resentful emotions.
What do you love most about yourself?
My ability to stay optimistic and have the courage to make a change. In 2022, a colleague of mine said, ‘non-native English speakers can’t be creative.’ This was the little push I needed to start a nonprofit that supports creatives and brings South-Asia-inspired stories to our communities. There are many days when I question leaving a 20-year-old corporate career to make a change, but even on the worst days, it feels right.
What is your absolute favorite meal?
Kashmiri haakh, batta, bum-tchoonth nadur. Haakh (type of collard greens), rice, and quince and lotus stem curry (savory). Usually, I’ll get the best version in my mom’s kitchen.
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