Sitting beside me was my grandfather. Always humming melodies that danced in the air. The happy birds completed the chorus. And the chorus of ladies joined in the murmur.
He stopped for a moment. The wind sang at the foot of the mountain. Jarinu had never been so quiet. The bell rang two more times. My grandfather expired.
The procession didn’t have time to pass. He had looked at his family, his body at the sea. Nothing was possible but to go and pray.