I have often written in these columns about my maternal grandmother, the late Zooni Begum—affectionately known to us as Zoon Ded. While I previously profiled her character in a piece titled “An Elderly Role Model,” today I wish to shine a light on her home. It was a haven of laughter, refuge, wisdom, and calm. In an era where everyone is exhausted by the pursuit of material gain, such idyllic sanctuaries are increasingly rare. It was not a palatial house, yet Zoon Ded ruled it like a queen, filling it with a remarkable charm and tranquility blessed by kindness and brotherhood.

I never met my grandfather; my mother told me he passed before I was born. Consequently, my childhood was spent in the close proximity of my grandmother—a combination of warmth, wisdom, and love. I am often reminded of the calm atmosphere that surrounded her home. Such simple lives and caring matriarchs are a rarity today. Though specific memories have faded with time, the mere mention of my grandmother’s house floods me with sights, smells, and sounds that modern society is totally devoid of.

Her house was more than just a physical space; it was an edifice of heritage and a testament to the enduring power of love. It was a reminder of where my heart will forever reside. This........

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