Home is not the same without you, but I still can’t call it a house

Because, the walls are still scented with you

The stairs are painted with the mark of your footsteps

The glass is stained with your Bindi gum marks

The cupboards smell the same way your sarees did

The room is filled with the echo of  your laughter

The bedroom still has the smell of your medicines

The kitchen still has the aroma of your achaar

Nothing of yours left us, but you did grandma

Tanvi Jeph is a high school sophomore who enjoys writing poetry and riding bicycles. She also has her own organization The Dried Review which she founded in April 2022.