ADVAITA'S MUSINGS

  Grandma… I wish you were here, Grandma… not in memory, not in silence, but here, with your hands, your voice, your eyes that saw, more than the world revealed. You loved without asking, you cared without pause, a presence steady as breath, as the turning earth. Now that you’re gone, every space feels louder. If you were the rain, I would walk without cover, welcoming every drop. If you were sunlight, I would stand still, let it burn gently into my skin— your warmth, your peace. If you were wind, I’d never move again, just to feel, your quiet joy brush past, once more. I wish… But wishes only echo where your voice once lived.

  Weary eyes The heart feels heavy, weighed down by thoughts that speak too loudly to ignore. Sleep hovers somewhere far off. Eyes blur with quiet sorrow, each tear a small release of what cannot be said aloud. Eyelids begin to fall. Night settles in, and the shadows draw close, holding every fear in their arms. It’s difficult to stay present. The mind drifts, listening to the voice of dreams as they call gently from the edges. The will to stay awake slips away. The body grows still, and the soul, worn thin, leans toward silence. Let the heart ease its grip. Let it breathe in this moment without struggle. Let the eyes, tired and warm, close softly into the dark.

  Richie Like a whisper of life, he came, A companion pup without a name, For the baby that bloomed inside of me, Capturing hearts with his playful nature . A few months old, so small, so sly, With twinkling mischief in each eye. Whimpers curled in midnight air, Daylight brought his hungry stare, Wagging and jumping out of excitement, For treats so tempting. He danced through clothes and chewed on shoes, A rebel pup with no excuse. He barked at strangers, proud and free, Keeping us safe and guarded. Time moved on, as my baby grew, And Richie watched, with shining eyes. He sniffed the window, fogged the glass, Watching tiny fingers pass. A tiny handshake and a pat, Was all that delighted him most. They spoke in tongues that they could construe, A secret code, profound. He’d wait for snacks at dawn and dusk, Munching them at his favourite corner. Interactions minimal, but a bond intense, A silent friend, so calm, so hushed. With every word we ever said, He’d tilt his head, as if he r...