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In the silence of the midnight hour,
Her soft footsteps could still be heard,
Far from sleep, awake for us all,
Quietly weaving dreams for everyone.
Her bond with the fire was unbreakable,
Reflected in the flame of the stove,
Her image lost in the rising smoke,
Working tirelessly, never stopping, never resting.
Head bowed, she toiled all day,
No complaints, no desires of her own,
She gave everything she had,
Like a silent lamp, burning away quietly.
Now she's no longer here,
But her presence fills every corner,
The shade of her sari, the warmth of her smile,
Still felt in every memory, every trace of her.
Her departure was only of the body,
Her soul still embraces us,
She was, she is, and will always be,
From the kitchen to the heart, her echo remains.
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