We went for a lovely swim in the cool, calm waters of the Bay of Bengal and then joined the small crowd around the pyre as they prepared the body for burning.
He was stripped of his hospital robe and placed head down on top of the pile of carefully constructed timbers. Wood was placed beside and over him while a drum beat a slow rhythm and mantras were recited.
As the flames began to leap through the pyre the crowd took tea and then began to drift away, the widow walking upright and tearless accompanied by her two daughters.
Fishermen continued to sort and count their catch and haul their curragh like boat back up the beach leaving its miles of flat sand empty again for a while.
We turned away and went to search for the school we built in 2010.
John Alexander
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| The Funeral Pyre |
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