“Why is Papa wrapped in the national flag, Ma?” asks Mithun plaintively. “Why do you say that?” I say, wondering if he is being facetious. But he doesn’t even know the meaning of facetious. He is genuinely perturbed. He has seen the tri-colour flying at the Red Fort. He has seen it in movies. But he has never seen it wrapped around a man. “Is he feeling cold?” he asks. This time I frown while looking at him. He is definitely being cheeky. But I suppose I am being unnecessarily suspicious. He is just six years old. He does not know the meaning of death. This is the first time he has seen a dead man. His father. I look at Rajesh closely. The flag is wrapped tightly around him, like a shroud. And that is what it is. His eyes are tightly shut. Maybe it is…
By Vandana Jena
