Chapter 12: Loss Upon Loss

Sneha’s father, as if showing off, brought a thick stack of condolence money, but felt it inappropriate to give it to me, so he asked, “Where’s your mom?”

He held the notes awkwardly, looking around for someone of suitable status to receive them. His discomfort was palpable, his generosity performative.

Only then did people remember this was my family’s funeral.

A ripple of realization passed through the crowd. For a moment, eyes turned to me—not with sympathy, but with mild embarrassment, as if they had forgotten their lines in a play.

Someone hurried off to look for my mother, when suddenly a scream rang out from the back hall.

The shriek cut through the solemnity, sending a jolt through the mourners. Plates clattered, whispers turned to shouts, as everyone rushed towards the source of the commotion.

I saw my mom being carried out.

Her body sagged in the arms of two women, her saree stained with blood. Her face was twisted in pain, her eyes wide and glassy.

She had vomited a lot of blood and was already dead.

The doctors tried in vain, but it was too late. She clung to my sister until the very end, their bodies entwined in death as they never could be in life.

She clung tightly to my sister. People tried to separate her from my sister and take her to the hospital, but they couldn’t pry her hands apart.

Even in death, she refused to let go. The women struggled, muttering prayers and curses, but her grip held firm—a final act of defiance against the world that had destroyed her family.

Amid the chaos, I stood up and numbly walked to my mother’s side.

The world spun around me, but I moved through it untouched. I knelt beside her, the blood soaking into my clothes, my hands shaking as I reached for hers.

I heard Sneha whisper behind me to her friends, “Great, she’s dead. Papa was going to buy her a BMW, now he doesn’t have to.”

Her words were soft, but they carried. They stabbed deeper than any knife, leaving wounds that would never heal.

Her friends exclaimed, “Wow, a BMW!”

Their voices bubbled with excitement, oblivious to the tragedy before them. The allure of wealth and status drowned out any shred of empathy.