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When someone loses their grandmother…
I don’t just feel sad,
I lose my ammachi all over again…

Last day when I watched Asha Bhosle’s
granddaughter Zanai Bhosle grieve…
something inside me went silent.
So than the loss of one my favourite singer
it’s a personal loss to me also….

Because I wasn’t just watching Zanai,
I was looking at my 10 year old self
standing in a world that suddenly felt too empty.

The day my ammachi left
she didn’t go alone…
she took my childhood with her,
my sense of safety,
the only place where love didn’t have conditions.

I remember reading a story as a child
a world where death didn’t exist…
until one mistake cursed everyone to lose
the people they love.

I used to read it again and again,
searching for a loophole…
not to stop death
but just to bring her back.

Because no one has ever loved me like she did.
And maybe that’s why I kept looking for her
in every person I met…
and every time I failed,
it broke me a little more.

Some loves are not meant to be replaced.
They are meant to be remembered…
and missed for a lifetime.

Even now after 21 years,
I wait like a child who refuses
to grow up from that moment…
hoping one day she will knock on my door,
and I will open it to find her there,
smiling like she never left.

I miss the warmth of her hands…
the soft comfort of her presence…
the faint Cuticura smell that felt like home.

And the hardest part…
Realising that kind of love
was a once in a lifetime miracle.

When I lost her,
I didn’t just lose a person
I lost the only place I ever truly belonged.

And somewhere inside me,
that little girl is still waiting…
just for one more hug,
one more moment,
one more chance
to feel at home again.