Hello Minimalist, i found out about this community yesterday and read a blog by @ginika which inspires to write today.
My peaceful moments mean more to me than anything else. Yet, people often misunderstand this.
“You’re unsocial.”
“You don’t like people.”
“You don’t have emotions.”
These are the words I hear whispered behind my back, all because I don’t give everyone the attention they feel entitled to.
One early morning, some years ago while I was asleep, I heard the door to my room open. My mom called my name twice, her voice soft yet heavy. I hummed in response, not wanting to speak. Deep down, I already knew what she was about to say.
I braced myself for the heartbreak: my grandma had passed away. That old woman has done so much for me and now she's gone and i haven't done much for her.
She had been sick for a long time. The last time I saw her, I felt it in my gut; it wouldn’t be long. It hurt, but I’m not one for outward displays of grief. Sympathy, tears, drama… they’re not my way of coping. I hate looking weak, and if anyone starts crying in a room I’m in, I’d rather leave than stay and endure it.
I got out of my bed and walked to the room where she was. She lay still, covered by a blanket. I stood there silently for a couple of minutes, unable to bring myself to get closer. The cries and commotion around me became too much, so I turned and left the room.
Back in my own space, I sat quietly. My heart was pounding, my emotions tangled. I wanted to cry, to let it all out, but the tears wouldn’t come. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shed a single tear. I stayed away from everyone in the house to avoided having a chat about the incident. I knew anyone who came close to me to console or give condolences will end it with a tear—but i don't want that.

I decided to take a bath, letting the warm water calm me. Then I got dressed and stepped outside, seeking escape from the noise of grieving family and neighbors flooding into the house.
All pictures are mine
Grandma was buried that same day. Afterward, I went to my cousin’s house, needing distance from the overwhelming atmosphere at home. I stayed there for three days, just enough time for the house to empty of visitors.
Grief is complicated. For me, it’s not about tears or being surrounded by people. It’s about finding peace amidst the chaos and holding on to the quiet strength within.