"𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐛 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮."
.✧.
"Where are you going, lisichka?" His voice, a gravelly murmur, sent chills down my spine as I turned to face...
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"Your image is imprinted on my soul, a constant reminder that I am forever bound to you."
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He ran a hand through his silvering hair, the setting sun casting long shadows across the dusty street. The once vibrant house stood before him, its paint faded but its presence unwavering. It held a lifetime of memories, both joyous and heartbreaking, threatening to overwhelm him.
A small hand tugged at his expensive Armani coat. Kabir, his ten-year-old grandson, looked up at him with furrowed brows. Anticipation and a touch of worry flickered in his dark eyes.
"Why are you crying, dadu?" Kabir asked, his voice laced with concern.
( dadu - paternal grandfather )
"Oh, my child," Raghavendra said, forcing a smile. Relief washed over him as he squeezed Kabir's small hand, grounding himself in the present. "That was my ancestral home. Your great-grandfather, he lived here." He chuckled, a dry, humorless sound.
Kabir's entire focus shifted, his eyes sparkling with the promise of an exciting story. His great-grandfather was a legendary figure in his young mind, a man who built an empire from scratch.
"That's where I spent my childhood," Raghavendra continued as they walked, the cooling evening air whispering through the trees. "Every corner holds a memory. Even your father was born here."
The vibrant orange and red hues painted the sky a breathtaking masterpiece. Birds chirped merrily, a symphony unheard by Kabir's city-tuned ears.
"Ah, this view," Raghavendra sighed, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. It was a stark contrast to the towering steel structures that dominated his usual life. Today marked the eighth anniversary of his wife's passing. He craved the solace of his ancestral home, a place where the hustle and bustle of the city faded away.
They were nearing their car, parked half a kilometer away due to the narrow street. As they passed a small flower shop, a burst of color caught Raghavendra's eye. White lilies, his granddaughter Kashish's favorite, were displayed prominently in the window.
