He reaches his pocket and takes out the last cigarette he has, as he crashes on the sack of sheets used to wrap dead bodies. Ramesh is tired today. The last couple of hours were very busy for him as he is the only one in the graveyard.
He thinks of Sumaiya, the one he laid under the willow today, as he lights the cigarette. He never imagined of doing this, but he is the only one in town. Sumaiya was killed by a mob, like so many others, in the Ustad Nawab colony, that night. Yet another communal clash.
She was blind but could recognize Ramesh’s arrival, somehow. He used to get jalebi for her and she always made him eat half of it. He lost his mother today. He could not imagine how people can kill for religion – he was angry and weary as he laid almost 20 bodies today.
As he puffs the last drag, he gets up to get to his small room at the other end of the graveyard. Suddenly, a red coupe stops in front of the big rusty gate of the compound. He approaches the car, little terrified as he had never seen a shiny, long car like the one in front of him.
The glass of the car rolls down as the drizzle picks up, making it difficult to see who is inside the car. A hand, probably of a rich female, comes out with a black polythene bag, now getting wet due to the falling droplets. As he holds the bag, the lady in the car hands out another packet to Ramesh – a bundle of notes.
He now has to dig another grave for this foetus, which looked like a girl! He put the bundle of notes with the feotus.
As he lies on the mat in his room, he wonders what is the value of life, where people have become killers!