kabraAltaf
A letter to my sister on the day she got married.
Between a Maghrib azaan in the old lanes of Nowhatta, childhood memories, endless fights, shared laughter, and the quiet ache of watching her leave home, I began to understand what it means to say goodbye to a sister.
This is about the home we grew up in, the sister I have always known, and my hope that her new home will hold her gently.
Because marriage should never mean forgetting the home you came from. Sometimes, it means finding another place where your heart can rest.