In boredom, we indulge in poetry and paragraphs

Oh to visit the graveyard

Renuka's mother stood at the center of the small group of women and children on looking the funeral procession on the opposite mountain. She was holding Baba in one hand and Asanka was holding onto the other. Renuka slowly moved to her mother's side trying her level best to be as silent as the wind, something about the trancelike expression the others had on their faces was unsettling. Absentmindedly her little hand clenched the pallu of her mother's sari. Her eyes focused on the procession, mainly on the glinting casket. The wind carried the low melancholic chants of the men towards the women, making them shiver and pull their clothes tighter around them. Red sunlight drenched the mountainside as the sun struggled to hold onto a gap as it tumbled onto the earth. The calls of birds and the swish of the trees from the enclosing woods blurred into a musical of white noise, and Renuka felt at ease as she slowly rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet.

From the opposite mountain she could see her father, leading the procession to the graveyard at the very top of the mountain. It seemed like a steep climb, but Renuka wouldn't know, after all women weren't allowed there. One of her cousins, a boy a few years older than her had the glorious chance to follow the funeral procession last year when his schoolteacher passed away. It was all he would talk about for the next two weeks. According to his lengthy tales the graveyard had a small house in it, the kind that the people in the city had, with blindingly white walls, little red terra cotta tiles on the roof and grand windows with wooden bars on them. Unfortunately no one could validate his claims; even her father would neither confirm nor deny them.

The only way Renuka could ever hope to see this mysterious place for herself was to die, which she knew wouldn't happen soon. After all didn't people pass away in order? Now that her grandpa died, she assumed that it would be her grandma next; she was already so fragile that they had to leave her at home. She was the one that Renuka would talk to about everything that happened at her village school and at home. Grandma had milky eyes like liquid wax and would always smile a thin watery smile at Renuka's little tantrums. Renuka knew that she was her favourite grandchild, well, maybe after her oldest brother who left for a job in the capital three years ago. He was close to father too. Renuka could vividly remember her father rushing out of their house, sarong tugged up and scarf flailing, to the garden when her brother arrived home for the holidays last month. One day they would be gone too. Her oldest brother was already ancient, and he liked to act like an adult and 'mother' his siblings whenever he could. Renuka couldn't even begin to imagine what would happen if her father left too, well, maybe everyone would be self sufficient like her oldest brother at that time, but no one she knew was as good a trader as her dear father. What would mother do without him, her mother who would wait outside until the dark fell, scanning the endless mountain range for her husband's lantern light. Her mother, who would write a small list of items to buy from the city every month in her neat handwriting on an exercise paper ripped out of a book and hand it to father wishing him good luck for his work. She would be devastated if father left the family as well, perhaps it would be better if she left with him too. Apparently mother had a close call with death once, when she got sick as a young woman. Grandpa said that she lost all the meat in her body and became something quite like the stick figures Renuka drew in her books. She didn't want to think about the terrifying possibility that her mother would get sick again. If she got sick Renuka would have to help her older sister look after everyone, until they all grew old as well. Renuka didn't want them to grow old. The mere thought of her young and energetic siblings becoming bedridden like her grandpa was painful. She couldn't comprehend that they too will one day cease to exist, leaving Renuka alone in the world.

A cold whisper of loneliness slithered into Renuka's heart as she imagined being the only one alive after everything. Alone to fend of the evils of the world her mother would so often speak about, no one to laugh and play with. She could imagine herself walking up the path to her house, her bones brittle and heavy inside her skin, wrinkled like a soggy prune. Her fingers would shake as she lighted the lantern hung above the doorway. The light will cast long shadows over the porch and keep the footpath from being illuminated. She would still sleep in the room she shares with her siblings, but the usually claustrophobic room would suddenly be as vast as a plain, the bed will be cold and hard. The chatter that never ended in her room would give in to a ghostly silence_