“My grandmother never owned a mobile, yet she listened to me like no one else could…”
She didn’t have WhatsApp, or a front-facing camera, and a video call would’ve baffled her.
But when I spoke, she looked me in the eye—and for that moment, my world was all that mattered.
No filters adorned her face, yet her smile outshone any screen’s glow.
She never sent emojis, but a squeeze of my hand whispered, “It’ll all be alright.”
Earphones were foreign to her; her ears were always open, always tuned to me.
She never typed “I love you” in a text. Instead, she said it every morning—steaming tea in hand, silence shared between us.
Now, I miss her more than any notification’s chime.
Because modern life gave us a thousand ways to speak,
yet somehow, we’ve forgotten how to listen.
This post won’t trend. But it’s true.
