Srinagar, June 10 -- It happened four days before Eid ul Azha. The house was already carrying the scent of preparations, laughter here and there, the usual hopeful mess that comes before a festival. And then came the phone call.

My grandmother had passed away.

Even now, it feels strange to say it. She was the kind of person you thought would always be there. Sitting in her spot, calm, wrapped in a soft shawl, watching the world with eyes that had seen much more than they ever let on.

I grew up under the same roof as her. A joint family means shared meals, shared rooms, and sometimes, shared toothbrushes if you're unlucky. But it also means you get to live inside the warm circle of someone like her for years. My cousins and I were alway...