Echoes of Loss

The night he lost his family… the world didn’t go silent. It echoed.

And tell me… have you ever heard an echo that felt like it was calling your name?

Because that’s where his story truly began— in a brown, rain-soaked silence…

that wasn’t silent at all. It started on a dull Thursday evening… when the factory

lights flickered like tired fireflies after a long day. He was sweeping metal dust off the

floor— the same floor he had worked on for 21 years— and he didn’t notice

that tiny red ribbon lying near his boot. It would matter later… more than he could ever imagine.

His name was Raghav. Forty-two. Believed that “a man stands tallest when he stands quietly.”