{Ajanta: A Living Invocation}

For the One Who Remembers

She walks not to arrive but to listen

to the rustle of eucalyptus breath,

to the whisper of the dying,

to the hum of ancestral chords

still echoing in her bones

to the spaces between thunderclaps

to the hush of mountains waiting

to the pull of tides beneath skin

and the language of leaves returning to earth.

They call her many things:

Mother, Scribe, Mystic

but names fall short.

She is a verb, not a noun

she is an unfolding, a becoming,

a sacred act of remembering

a breath woven into the great exhale

a pause between generations

a fire cupped gently in trembling hands.

She has sat with endings

held the hand of the breathless

stitched silence into speech

and wept at the altar of unspoken things.

She knows that grief

is not a wound to be bandaged

but a threshold to be honoured

a gate that opens inward

when the world would rather close.

Sage-hearted,

she speaks in questions that open the soul

and silences that teach

not the brittle quiet of suppression

but the fertile hush of presence

the slow unfolding of a lotus

in the still water of attention.

Her pen is a wand, a scalpel, a bell

a compass for the lost

a lantern for the willing

a howl for the silenced.

It cuts through illusion

and awakens the sleeping

without shame or spectacle.

She is the Alchemist

turning betrayal into beauty

scar into scripture

estrangement into liberation

bitter root into healing salve

and silence into ancestral song.

She does not rush the fire,

she waits inside it

listening for the precise shape of truth

as it burns off the false,

Not flinching from the blaze

but tending it,

as one tends the sacred

She does not rescue, she midwifes

She does not preach, she remembers

and in remembering

she revives what was exiled

she names what was hidden

she blesses what was feared.

And in remembering

she becomes the cave and the echo

the torch and the hand that bears it

the sacred breath

that calls the forgotten

back to themselves

not with thunder

but with the steady voice of one

who never left.

✴︎ Ajanta | Cave Dweller | Torch Bearer | Truth Teller | 2025