Late November arrived, and the environment gradually shifted towards a chilly disposition. Diwali also came, marking the second festival of lights the family would observe without Zahra. 🙌
Yugh's mother prepared the oil lamps for the evening ritual. Yugh, now without a job to rush to, helped by adding some simple decorations to the front of the house, finding a strange solace in the mundane task.
As night fell, they observed the festival in a quiet, subdued manner; a simple meal, the soft glow of the lamps. Yet, amid the gentle light, Zahra's absence was a palpable shadow. đź•Ż
For Yugh's mother, memories of fourteen Diwalis celebrated with her daughter-in-law surfaced unbidden, the laughter, the shared sweets, the rituals performed together.
Those years of ingrained memory could not be erased in one. The flickering flames seemed to illuminate not just the room, but the hollow space where a familiar presence should have been, making the celebration feel less like a festival and more like a quiet, collective remembrance of a light that had gone out. ✨