He inhaled slow, and exhaled, his eyes searching for a spot in the busy Manikarnika Ghat. His 90th birthday brought him to Varanasi.
And the search for salvation.
He was tired. A week here, and he was still alive. Why wasn't he dying?
He observed deeply, and got the answer. The cremations took place amidst families and friends.
Who will cry for him? He had none.
He spread his food around. Soon, hungry birds, dogs and cats came . He watched them eating in content.
The next dawn he breathed his last, amidst his weeping friends - birds, dogs and cats.
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Poignant and moved me to tears. The ghats live on in my memories from visits decades ago - and from the photos that I sill have in the dawn mist.
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