❝ 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔'𝒏𝒕 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒐𝒂𝒓𝒅 - 𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒂 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒈𝒍𝒚. ❞
•••
Sometimes love doesn't knock on the right door. Sometimes it slips in through a misdial, a l...
जब साँसें भी चुप्पियों में उलझने लगीं, माँ की मुस्कान भी दर्द छुपा न सकी.. जो हमेशा मज़बूत था, अब थका-सा लगता है, और माँ... अब ख़ुद को ही संभालती है...
𓇢𓆸
When Grief Followed Us Home
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Author's POV-
Two weeks had passed since Arjun's father's demise. The once lively house in Kanpur now stood silent, each corner echoing memories too painful to bear. The laughter, the conversations, the very essence of life seemed to have vanished, leaving behind a void that neither Arjun nor his mother could fill.
But now it had become unbearable. Not because of the people or the memories — but because of the silence.
A silence that screamed.
Every corner of the house echoed with a voice that no longer existed. The rooms that once echoed with soft chuckles and cricket commentary had turned hollow. Arjun couldn't walk into a room without expecting to hear him call out, "Aur sunaa, champ?"
Every object stood like a timestamp, frozen in the past — his father's past. His chair at the dining table. His favorite mug. The half-read novel beside the recliner. His glasses that still lay on the nightstand like he'd return to pick them up any moment.
But he wouldn't.
Arjun's mother had said it first.
"Yahan saans lena bhi bhaari lagta hai, beta..."
(It feels hard to even breathe here, beta...)
There had been no discussion after that. Just a knowing glance between mother and son. And the next morning, their bags were packed.
They moved.
Mumbai was chaos, but at least it didn't echo.
Mumbai.
The city that never slept. But for Arjun and his mother, sleep had abandoned them long before their arrival.
It offered noise. And Arjun needed noise. He needed a city that wouldn't let him think.
But grief... grief follows you. Even here.
Mira didn't question Arjun's decision.
Infact, she had been the first one at their door the very next morning. She hadn't asked for permission. She just came. Carrying food, a candle she claimed was for "vibe maintenance," and that strange, stubborn warmth that had become her signature.
