The Crying Child

Friday Morning 10:00 AM

BANNERGHATTA CREMATORIUM, Bangalore

People were grieving as the button was pressed and the dead body heated to intense red and turned into flames. There was a tremendous uproar. Ladies of the house were crying insane. It was the sound of death. It tears the heart and the soul in its merciless music.

 The melody of death was the favorite music for Vibhu’s ears. He stood there – in the form of a child – a young boy at it – watching the proceedings calmly. He haunted the crematoria as a crying child – filling the heart of the survivors with the sadness of death.

Just as the attendance to the funeral attrited , Rajat left the mourning family. He was among the last ones to leave as he was so close to the deceased. As he took the turn towards the lawns that lead to the parking outside the crematorium gates – he heard a squeal. The saddest and the most painful one he had ever heard. It resonated with a great loss. It resonated with emptiness and longing which can never be fulfilled - a wail that would invoke sympathy even in the hearts of the most merciless people. The wind was in the trees. It was a beautiful day. He turned around and saw the most beautiful and yet the saddest face of a boy he had ever seen. Fair, but pale, with red lips and black hair. He wore white kurta- pyjama. His mourning seemed complete.

An instant sense of sadness at the loss of the boy filled Rajat’s heart with extreme sympathy. He approached him and sat down on the ground on his knees facing the boy. He gently wiped the boy’s tears and amidst his sobs, he asked him, “Don’t cry my child. Where are your parents? Why are you alone?”

The boy had a white rose in his hand. He asked Rajat, “Was he your brother?” He was still sobbing.

Rajat answered, “He was my friend - a really close friend.”

“It’s so sad.” The boy said and burst into a sad squeal.

Rajat was a bit confused. Was he from the family? But then why was he alone? He asked, “You know him?”

The boy moved his head in denial.

“Then why are you crying for him?” Rajat asked. He was really confused by now.

“He will never find peace……” the boy burst into the saddest cry. “ He will never be able to cross to the other side.”

Rajat’s face turned white. The words reverberated in his mind. He looked like a dead man already. His hands turned cold. His speech stopped.

“This is your friend’s flower. I’ll take him with me.”

He remembered that a dead man’s flower is his ashes.

He ran off stumbling and falling a little distance away. He heard the boy’s words. “Its so sad. I’ll take you too. I cry for you as well.” And then burst into a loud crackling cry. The cry filled Rajat’s heart with absolute sadness. He stopped running and stood still. He didn’t want to live anymore.

The boy came over to him and gently took his hand. He led him to cremation table where his friend lay minutes back. The family was gone. There were no ashes there.