Departed on Earth, United in Spirit
A Journey of Love Beyond Time
Ammi <3 : my grandmother who held me close to her heart and raised me in love for the first 10 years of my life! After the first 10 years in India, it was my time to move to Saudi Arabia and life revealed Ammi’s path to join us in Saudi within a few years.
When I say Ammi transitioned, it still feels surreal — not in the sense of disbelief, but in the awe of how beautiful her passing truly was. Subhanallah, what a journey it was. So natural. So full of grace. So in tune with divine timing. Watching her slowly return to the Source filled me with something I never expected: Peace. Acceptance. A soft realization that death is not the end. It's a coming home. If her transition was this gentle, this synchronistic — then perhaps death really isn’t something to fear. It’s something to embrace, as a sacred unfolding.
Ammi’s journey brought me closer to the mystery of life — and death — in a way that I never could’ve imagined. There were no hospital regrets, no one to blame. Her time was divinely chosen. Even in her burial, the universe whispered that everything was as it should be. Her body now rests next to Baba — her life partner — who left this earth when I was barely five. Imagine that: 30 years later, the spot next to him was naturally held… for her. That realization melted something in me. Their reunion was destined. Her place was already waiting.
I’m still processing it all, but what stands out most is how love never truly ends. The distribution of gifts that Ammi brought from Saudi Arabia for her relatives — a tradition she deeply cherished, where she would joyfully share something with relatives during her visits to India. This time, after her departure, it was we — her children — who carried out that ritual. We distributed those gifts on her behalf. And something so unexpected, so quietly beautiful happened: every person who received them felt like they were receiving directly from her. Her love was so tangible, so present. It was as if her essence flowed through every offering. That was who Ammi was — a giver of love. She is love. And love like that… never dies. It just finds new ways to be shared.
Losing Ammi cracked me open. And through that crack, something new began to awaken.
Since the beginning of 2024, I’ve felt the veils between worlds thinning. I’ve been more sensitive to energy, more aware of the subtle dimensions that surround us. I was already connecting with Baba in deep meditative spaces — feeling his calm, grounded presence, like an anchor to my being. And when Ammi’s health started deteriorating, I remember telling a friend, “The ones who’ve passed… they’re not ‘somewhere else’. It’s all here, all now. The way to connect is inside-out.” Now I feel that these words were more for me to realize, ground and prepare myself for the mysteries to unfold.
After her final rituals, I returned to Goa. My body was run-down, grieving, sick on antibiotics. But then something whispered to me… and I listened. I followed that inner nudge to prepare a nourishing meal for myself — something Ammi would cook when I was unwell. And as I stood there cooking, I just knew: “This is my real medicine.” I felt her. Not as a memory, but as a presence. Sitting with that meal, I was wrapped in her love more intimately than ever before. That moment started to alchemize my grief into joy. I wasn't just remembering her — I was with her. I wasn’t just crying in grief; I was also laughing in rejoice.
Since then, the connection has only deepened — with both Ammi and Baba. One day, I had to wake up early, and alongside my alarm, I asked my subconscious and unseen guides to wake me gently. I sometimes do this — to keep the thread alive. That morning, I woke up to the feeling of someone gently nudging me, like Baba’s calm energy surrounding me. It was subtle… but real. I smiled through sleepy eyes. It was him. And in that moment, I felt so held. So not alone.
We often think that living alone means being alone. But I’ve come to know this truth in my bones: I am guided and loved 24/7. We all are.
This chapter of my life has cracked me wide open — not just to grief, but to reunion. To presence. To the knowing that love doesn't leave when the body does. It stays. It multiplies. It surrounds.
A picture of me with my Ammi & Baba :)
Ammi and Baba may have departed this earth — but they’ve never been closer.
They walk with me. Cook with me. Wake me up. And remind me every day:
You are never alone!