The human connection

A long rail bridge across the Ganga separated the city and me from the rest of the world.

After a tiring second-class journey, the train dropped me at this historical city of chaos and colours.

Between life and death, this eternal city stood, giving thousands of men and women the promise of solace. 

After a quick face wash, I took an early morning stroll towards the river.

The mist was still in the air and my watch was showing half past four.

The first light of the day slowly appeared on the eastern horizon.

Crossing narrow streets and dark corridors I entered an open space; the sandy banks of the Ganga.

The air was filled with an unfamiliar and unpleasant odour.

Unknown people from unknown places were wandering.

Three men were dipping a rat trap in the river, liberating the soul of an unfortunate rat that was fooled by the bait.

I walked directionless till something stopped me.

Here in front of my eyes lay a human being without the vibrations of life, fully draped in a plain white cloth without even an inch of the body visible to the outside world.

On a pile of wood, it rested, getting ready to be eaten by mighty flames.

Abandoned flowers and glitter paper that adorned the body till a few minutes back were scattered around.

A few goats were eating those abandoned flowers.

An old woman was collecting the cheap silk cloth used to adorn the dead.

The attire was going to end up in one of the seconds-sale shops in the city, to give the final send-off to another dead.

The flames from the burning wood started eating up that body like a hungry predator.

Molten fat was flowing to the ground like a small stream.

Two men came forward, carrying long wooden poles as if they couldn’t wait anymore.

They started beating the burning body to make it into fine pieces so that it would burn fast.

For the poor relatives of that dead body, saving fuel wood meant saving a few bucks.

Crows and other birds were flying high over the thick smoke.

Soon that body became fine grey powder.

There was no way to know whether it was a man or woman, or a young or old.

For a moment I felt a connection to that unknown person; a bond of having a common destiny.

A few drops of tears fell on the sandy bank of the Ganga.

I had to keep walking. Another morning was slowly beginning for the rest of the world.