Srinagar, Oct. 24 -- Friday, 22nd August 2025. 7:05 a.m.

Maa, that morning took you from me. Your hand slipped from mine like a river receding, and my world folded into itself. Your eyes closed slowly, your breath grew lighter, and I stayed there, suspended, unable to move.

I cried in ways no one could hear, the kind of sound that dissolves inside the chest. Only Allah witnessed it, that silent fracture, that absence you left in your leaving.

Since that day, I live inside that hour. Outside, Srinagar stirs as always. The azan calls from the mosques, the chaiwallas carry trays through Lal Chowk, and children race across the streets with laughter like bells. Time flows, people speak, but inside me, nothing moves.

I still feel the warm...