Queen of Hearts

While all of India celebrated the exuberance of colours, my family and I were given yet another lesson in letting go. I lost my beloved Aunt—my Masi—who had been by my side since I first went to live with her in my teens, guiding me, shaping me, and showing me how to be better.

During the days she was hospitalised, though few, we saw her fight with patience and grace. In those moments, I reflected on the countless ways she had shaped my life....

Masi didn’t just invest in me—she pours love into all of us, her nieces and nephews. Every child in the family is special to her. She knows us more in so many ways that we know ourselves. And yet, somehow, she had the rare gift of making each of us feel like we were her absolute favourite. I always feel I am extra special but then my sister feels the same and I can say with certainty, that my cousins feel the same too.

She notices what we love, celebrates our wins, and rejoices in our happiness. She always knows when we needed encouragement, no matter the distance. There is always a warm feeling of excitement when I have something to share with her. Even separated by continents, our phone calls often begin with her saying, "I was just thinking about you- this week /yesterday / this morning."  

Masi taught me life skills—how to cook, how to take things in stride, and how to manage my emotions, my impatience. She taught me how to be generous, to give with love, without expectation. She led by example—offering her time, energy, and affection abundantly. I am still struggling to follow her example, hoping that someday I can embody even a fraction of the love and grace she carried so effortlessly.

Most importantly, Masi has reinforced to me how to show up for people. Masi shows up—always. Distance, personal struggles, commitments—nothing was ever an obstacle for her.

Masi always says to me, “Queens are born in June.” We shared a birth month, but Masi is a true Queen of Queens—the Queen of Hearts. Her heart was vast enough to hold all of us, each one believing we were loved a little extra, a little more special.

Even in her final days, she was reassuring everyone around her—"I’m okay, I will be okay." When I struggled to mask my concern over a video call (which I am still beating myself for not handling with more composure), she quickly sent me a photo of herself with a bag I had embroidered for her—always finding a way to comfort others, even when she was the one who needed it.

Now, Masi has crossed the golden bridge to the other side, reunited with her parents, sister and our family there. But she will never truly leave us. She lives on—in our hearts, in our memories, in the love she so generously gave.

The Queen of Hearts now lives in many, many hearts—forever cherished, forever loved. 💖