Heart of Chadoora

Through simple acts of love and devotion, she became a guiding light in her community.

- Aaqyb Ashraf

I remember the first time I entered her home. The air smelled faintly of simmering spices and dried rose petals tucked in the corner. Sunlight spilled through the latticed windows, casting warm patterns on the floor.

She walked across the room, folding a shawl and fixing a cushion. Her hands were steady, her eyes calm. She smiled at me, and the space felt safe, like it had been waiting for me.

People in Chadoora called her Mouj. In Kashmiri, the word means mother. It carries warmth, protection, and a sense of home.

Anyone who crossed her threshold seeking reassurance, guidance, or a moment of stillness left with a small piece of comfort.