A Grandmother's Eid

The sun rose gently, soft and warm, But the house feels quiet, missing her charm. Eid mornings filled with light and grace, Now hold echoes of her smiling face. She'd sit by the door, hands soft and old, A shawl wrapped tight against the cold. Her eyes would shine with joy anew, As we lined up, eager for what we knew. A crisp ten-rupee note, folded with care, Slipped into our hands with a loving stare. To the world, it was small – just a simple bill, But in our hearts, it holds value still. We’d run and laugh, feeling so grand, That tiny treasure safe in hand. To her, it wasn’t the amount she gave, But the love and blessings that she saved. Now Eid arrives, but she’s not here, Her absence is sharp, yet love draws near. I close my eyes and I can see, Her gentle smile, watching over me. The ten rupees may fade away, But the memories will always stay. Her kindness lingers, soft and deep, A love eternal, ours to keep. So as we gather, side by side, We know she’s with us, full of pride. And every Eid, in hearts and prayer, We found our great-grandmother there.