A CEMETERY STORY

• Short story

								
Here's the translation of the text from Malayalam to English:


We walked up the steps of Old Church cemetery, surrounded by darkness and clouds that seemed to veil the moon. The tombstones gleamed in the moonlight, like candles lit in memory of the silent souls that lay beneath. We approached a small tomb, and whispered to each other that it belonged to a child who had passed away at the age of 7 or 8. We wondered about the cause of death, and our curiosity led us to a nearby tomb adorned with flowers and candles, which seemed to be the most recent burial.


As we continued our walk, the shadows of the crosses on the tombstones seemed to follow us. We reached the front of the church and sat on the steps, engaging in deep conversations about various topics. We discussed everything from God to the devil, our minds filled with doubt and fear.


Just then, the church vicar approached us. We stood up respectfully. He mentioned that there was a funeral scheduled for the next day and he had come to prepare for it. We knew that a funeral was taking place because of the blue plastic cover that covered the grave, shining like the sun.


We usually stood by the grave during funerals, watching until it was covered. By the time we returned home, night would have fallen, and fear would have taken over.


The vicar walked past us into the church. We began walking again, taking a narrow path with a handrail on one side. As we walked, our conversation shifted from the darkness to other topics. I started talking about my writing, and we moved on to discussing movies and politics.


We thought about staying there for a while longer when my friend suddenly remembered the funeral of an old man who had passed away the previous day. "Should we go see his grave?" he asked. Despite feeling afraid, I agreed, trying to appear brave.


As we walked through the cemetery, our fear grew. We approached the old man's grave, and I noticed another grave nearby, adorned with gold-plated decorations and looking like a 5-star tomb. "Is this a luxury tomb?" we asked each other. It seemed ironic that humans would display their wealth even in death.


My friend asked if cemeteries were supposed to be so lavish. I replied that humans and their creations are inherently social and reflective of our selfish thoughts.


As we walked back, my friend suggested we return to the church, where Christmas carol rehearsals were underway. 

Death : I believe, is a journey from the chaos of life to the silence and stillness of the afterlife.
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