In the quiet corridors of memory,
Where echoes of laughter once danced,
We wander through a world without Asha,
A landscape drained of colour and chance.
Asha, our shared compass in the labyrinth of days,
The one who spun constellations from mundane threads,
Your absence leaves a void, a cosmic ache,
As if the stars themselves have lost their stead.
Without you, the sun forgets to rise,
And moonbeams falter in their nightly waltz,
The seasons blur, their hues fading to gray,
For you were the palette that painted life's pulse.
In this world without Asha, the birds fall silent,
Their songs tangled in the branches of sorrow,
And the rivers weep, their currents adrift,
Seeking the touch of your fingers, your borrowed tomorrow.
We trace the contours of your absence,
A map of longing etched upon our collective skin,
Each heartbeat a whispered prayer,
Begging the universe to rewind and begin.
Asha, my dearest cuz, a dazzling star.
You were the ink, the needle that tattooed our soul's compassion & passion,
Now I write soliloquies to the wind,
Hoping they'll find you across time's vast domain.
Perhaps in parallel realms, you still exist,
A guardian of forgotten constellations,
Guiding lost souls toward celestial shores,
Where love transcends the boundaries of nations.
So here's to you, Asha, my dear cuz,
In this world or the next, our souls entwine,
For even in absence, your light persists,
A beacon that forever ignites the divine.
Your odd cousin
30th March 2024