Post Demise Rituals

What will happen to these clothes?
What will we do with his favourite plate?
What will we do with the specs and phone?
What will happen to his bedroll?
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Chaos has ensued for now,
Tears dripping and lungs wailing out.
People have gathered, even amidst lockdown,
Distancing each other despite being close and around.
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Words flow freely and old talks spill,
Tales and myths were brought out from still,
His secrets and confidential matters,
Brought out of cupboard!
His absence to explain a few things disrupted comfort.
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Silence!
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Day time was spent in running around,
Following priests and talking with relatives to calm down.
But when the sleep brought pseudo peace to mind,
The nerves tremble and memories disturb the blind.
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Even if the ghost form fills the dreams,
We want to capture and savour even that memory.
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Toughest goodbyes are for people closest to them,
The newest leaves easily shake away the grief,
Laughter and bold talks can be heard
Along with her shuddered sobs.
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Life goes on,
People carry on,
For a few lucky minutes,
Even she forgets,
But as her hand habitually goes to his bed,
The coldness beside her leaves her scared,
Gasping for breath,
She wakes up in haste,
The reality dawns upon her, and the eyes swell,
What drips down those eyes are not just tears,
They are their memories,
Memories that are yet to be shed.
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- Raj Nandani
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