Waves of Life

Waves of Life  

From the crest of the cliff, Mahima heard the distant crash of waves against the rocks—  
a sound that echoed the storm inside her heart.  

She was a widow, with one daughter.  
That night, as the cold wind brushed her cheeks,  
she remembered the day her world had quietly cracked—  
the day she was separated from Manit.  

She hadn’t cried then.  
She had simply held their three-year-old close,  
pretending that strength was something mothers were born with.  

But tonight, years later, standing alone above the roaring sea,  
memory opened like a forgotten door.  

She could still see Manit’s tired smile that last morning—  
the way he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear,  
the way he whispered, “Take care of our little world,”  
as if he already knew he would never return.  

The waves below rose and fell, carrying fragments of his voice.  

Mahima closed her eyes.  
Her daughter was asleep back home, safe and dreaming.  
And here she was—standing between past and present,  
between loss and courage.  

For the first time in years, she let one tear fall—  
not out of weakness,  
but out of gratitude for the love that had once held her life together.  

She turned away from the cliff.  
Behind her, the storm inside began to quieten.  
Ahead of her, a small light—home—waited.  

And in that moment she realized:  
Even broken hearts can learn to rise again… just like waves.  

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