The fire crackled softly in the dimly lit room as Misthi gathered her shawl tightly around her shoulders, watching her grandchild, Abhira, huddling close. The cold outside seemed harsher tonight, but here, with these little ones, her heart felt warm. She glanced at them, their curious eyes filled with wonder and innocence, so like his.

“Tell us, Dadi” Abhiraa urged, his voice barely a whisper. “Tell us about him.”

Misthi’s lips trembled into a smile, one that carried both joy and a hidden ache. “Your grandfather,” she began, her voice soft, “was a man who saw beauty even in the darkest of places. I met him on a winter’s morning in Kashmir, where the snow fell like little promises from the sky.” She paused, her eyes gazing into a memory far beyond their reach. “He was brave, yet his laughter was gentle—like music that lingers long after the notes have stopped.”

Abhira, wide-eyed, clutched her grandmother’s hand. “Did he love you very much, Dadi!?”

Misthi’s gaze softened, her fingers tracing small circles on Abhira’s hand. “Oh, he loved me more than the stars love the night,” she whispered. “But our time together was short, and war doesn’t wait for love, no matter how true it may be.”

The room fell silent, the children holding their breath as Misthi continued, her words painted with sadness and pride. “The night before he left, he told me, ‘Misthi, remember that love knows no boundaries. Even if I am taken away, I will live in every heartbeat, in every whispered breeze.’ And when he left…” Her voice broke, a tear slipping down her cheek before she quickly wiped it away.

“But maa” Abhir whispered, “why did he have to go? Why didn’t he stay with you?”

Misthi closed her eyes, hearing the echo of her own questions from a lifetime ago. “Because some loves are called upon to serve beyond themselves,” she replied softly. “Some loves are tested by distance, by time… and by sacrifice. He stayed, Abhir, but not in the way you might think. He stayed here,” she placed a hand over her heart, “and he has never really left.”

The children listened, their hearts filled with questions they couldn’t yet ask, questions that only time and the weight of life would help them understand. And as Misthi looked into their innocent faces, she knew the story she was about to tell would bring her closer to Abir, if only in the words and memories that still kept him alive.