INTROSPECTIVE

Chapter 16

It felt like he was watching himself from a distance. An out of body experience.

In his mind, he wasn't there at all.

Those weren't his shoes that were dusty with the red soil of the public cemetery.

Those weren't his arms holding his mother as he bore her weight because she was so weak with grief she couldn't stand on her own.

And that wasn't his father's grave that he was walking towards.

Adam Charo Madoka

The demons in his mind re-awakened at the sight of that name.

They attacked him relentlessly.

"I hate you," they whispered menacingly.

His muscles tense,he faltered in his steps as they twisted the knife of guilt in his stomach.He tried his best to drive them back as hard as he could, back to the recesses of his mind. Convincing himself yet again, that he was somebody else watching all this from afar. He really wasn't there. It was the only thing that would hold him up.

And he repeated this mantra as he let his mind wander away from all that was in front of him, grateful for the shades that hid his bone-dry eyes.

The grumbled words of the mourners were a distant echo to him as he watched the figure moving from one spot to another, its languid movements measured as it advanced slowly from one grave to another.

The wreath on this grave was the grazing cow's target. And it gobbled it up in its characteristic relaxed manner.

Louis tilted his head in interest. He found it odd that they would allow grazing in the cemetery.Wasn't it a tidbit disrespectful?

But the cattle had to find sustenance somehow and if it was only in that public cemetery that the cattle could find luscious green grass to feed on then the herders would gladly lead them there.

He shrugged.If you thought about it, it was almost poetic that the living would derive sustenance from the unliving.

Louis shook his head as he watched the cow eat up the white flowers in the wreath. The flowers were fresh and looked like they had been placed there only recently.

But really grazing animals on people's loved ones' final resting place was the lesser evil compared to other things.

He had heard that pretty coffins attracted thieves. While mourners were busy grieving as they watched the coffin lowered into the grave, a few unscrupulous individuals were plotting how they would steal the ornately detailed gleaming white coffin.Because that's all they saw when they looked at a coffin.It's value not someone's final resting place.

They would just dump the body and if they felt like it, they would take the fine clothes of the dead and sell them as second hand clothes as a bonus.

The insensitivity was shocking to the victims of these thieves.

Louis glanced down at the flowers in his hands wondering if they would even last until the end of the day before the cattle would make a meal out of them.

He looked at the tombstone on his father's grave.It had been one year and he wondered if the coffin was still really six feet under.

These stories affirmed one thing to Louis-the finality of death.

To these thieves, death was so final that they could dishonour the dead to that extent. They didn't fear any consequences. They weren't afraid of being haunted by the spirits of the departed. To them, death was like a burning candle when the flame was snuffed out. Once the flame was gone it was simply, gone.

They didn't care about who you were, where you came from, who loved you and who felt the loss of you.

It was all the same to them.

Nothing mattered to them. It was simply their livelihood.

Death was final to them.Everything else ceased to matter.

Was life really that fickle?Louis wondered.

Again he glanced at the grave before him and the damned flowers that would end up as feed for the cow.

And Louis choked at this notion - the finality of death.It bore a hole through his hard heart giving way to an emotion that was so grounding.

His mother collapsed on her knees in front of the grave.Her sobs silent yet utterly heartbreaking.He joined her on the ground,he could no longer pretend to be somebody else.And finally a lone tear escaped through his eye, making a slow descent down his face.

They said it got easier with time.Then why is it that every time he looked at that name,it felt like everything had only happened yesterday.The wound was still fresh and vulnerable and the pain was still as real as it was a year ago.

Louis tried to be strong for his mother.There was this saying that when a man cries the tears don't streak down their face instead they make their way further down and settle in the stomach.

But the tears weren't getting past his chest.He felt so clogged up.

He was almost wheezing when he felt a slender hand gently grab his shoulder as if to pass comfort through touch.

Still kneeling on the ground,he put his trembling hand on top of the hand,grasping for anything he could get.

"I'm so sorry."

Louis immediately shot up.It was as if an electric shock had been passed through his body.

What the hell was she doing here?

But before he could voice his thoughts,his mother had already grabbed on to her sister and buried her face in her shoulder.

She had the guts to show her face here?

All grief was cleared out and in its place was anger.Anger directed on the person whom he was glaring at over his mother's shoulders.

The irony was not lost on him as he watched her comfort his mom,the very person who betrayed her the way she did.

There was no way he was letting this pass by so easily he thought as he looked into those eyes.