The Echoes of Sana:

The Echoes of Sana: Navigating Grief in My Hometown Mumbai, my beloved hometown, felt different this time. Usually, a trip here means collecting little trinkets and treats for Sana. But today, as I walked down familiar streets, a simple encounter brought me to a halt. A shopkeeper, someone from whom I’ve bought countless things for Sana over the years, stopped me. "I have some new,nice dresses for your daughter ," he said. In that moment, tears streamed down my face, unbidden and raw. It wasn't embarrassment I felt, but an overwhelming wave of pain. I retreated to my mother's house, unable to face the outside world. This evening, another moment of quiet sorrow unfolded. My mother, looking at a picture of herself with her four grandchildren in Singapore, paused. Her eyes welled up as she softly whispered, "I miss Sana, I like her so much." It’s a strange phenomenon; we haven't explicitly told her about Sana's passing, yet my mother’s thoughts consistently gravitate towards her. It’s as if her heart intuitively knows. This entire trip has been an emotional rollercoaster. Every corner, every face, every memory seems to trigger a fresh pang of grief for Sana. This morning, I dreamt of her. All I can recall is her voice, clear as day, saying, "Mom, I am okay, don't worry." Those were her constant words of reassurance throughout her sickness, a mantra of comfort that echoes in my soul even now. My therapy session today shed some light on this intense wave of emotions. My therapist reminded me that my last visit in December was brief, and I hadn’t fully processed my grief. This time, being back and encountering so many people, each memory serves as a poignant reminder of Sana. Tomorrow marks a significant step, one I've been procrastinating for far too long. I'm finally starting the project I’ve envisioned: going to the publishers to decide on the layout and cover for Sana’s memory book. This has been the hardest part of this journey, and I’m so grateful my sister, my steadfast support, will be by my side. This book is more than just pages and words; it's a testament to Sana. I want it to be a beautiful memory of her, a reflection of her boundless kindness and love, and a tribute to the countless lives she touched and the many people who cherish her. It's an ode to a life lived with grace, and a way to keep her spirit alive in our hearts.