- Son Sought Outsourced Farewell
- Letter Rewrote His Conscience
- Pride Dissolved Into Grief
- Smoke Over the Silent Grounds
Article Today, Rajahmundry:
The cremation ground stood still under the harsh afternoon sun. Smoke from burning sandalwood drifted slowly across the open sky. The air carried the sharp scent of ash. Rohan adjusted his Ray-Ban glasses and checked his watch again. Behind the tinted lenses, his eyes revealed more anxiety than sorrow. He had landed from the United States that morning. By evening, he hoped to return.
His father’s body lay on the wooden pyre, wrapped in white cloth. The priest murmured prayers. Workers moved quietly. Yet the loudest sound seemed to come from Rohan’s ticking watch.
A Schedule Over a Goodbye
Rohan, 35, serves as a vice president at a software firm in America. He flew in after receiving news of his father’s death. However, his mind remained divided. A flight at 6 p.m. awaited him. A critical meeting stood on his calendar the next day. He asked the funeral coordinator to proceed quickly.
Observers noticed the urgency. The cremation was not merely a ritual. It was his father’s final journey. Meanwhile, Rohan appeared to measure the moment in minutes.
A Transaction at the Pyre
After lighting the funeral pyre, Rohan stepped aside. Flames rose steadily. Smoke climbed into the sky. He pulled out his cheque book and asked about the bill. He requested the agency to handle the immersion of ashes as well. His tone remained composed.
The coordinator paused before replying. He informed Rohan that the payment had already been made. The father had visited their office five years earlier. He had paid in advance and left a sealed letter for his son.
A Father’s Precaution
According to the coordinator, the elderly man had walked in with difficulty. He had asked only one question: “Will my son face no trouble?” He cleared the dues that day. He did not want his son to struggle with arrangements during a busy career. He left instructions that the letter be handed over at the time of his death.
The Letter That Changed Everything
Rohan opened the envelope with trembling hands. The handwriting appeared fragile but steady in meaning. His father acknowledged his son’s demanding life abroad. He wrote that he did not want his death to interrupt meetings or promotions. He assured him that absence would not invite blame.
Then came a line that cut through the smoke. “When I took you to school, I never let go of your hand. When you light my pyre, your hand must not tremble.”
The words lingered. They carried no accusation. They held no complaint. They reflected quiet love.
Collapse of Certainty
In that moment, Rohan’s confidence faltered. The watch on his wrist lost urgency. The cheque book slipped from his hand into the dust. He realised that his father had prepared for death not out of fear, but out of concern for him.
Meanwhile, the flames continued their steady work. The pyre consumed wood and cloth. Yet something else began to burn. His pride, built over years of corporate success, softened in the heat.
A Night of Reckoning
Rohan did not board the evening flight. He remained seated near the embers until late night. The cremation ground, once a place he wished to leave quickly, became a space of reflection. He confronted the distance that success had quietly created between him and his father.
Therefore, the story is not about a funeral arrangement. It is about modern detachment meeting old-fashioned devotion. The father ensured efficiency. The son discovered emotion.
Love Beyond Logistics
Funeral services can be outsourced. Payments can be settled in advance. However, grief cannot be delegated. Tears cannot be assigned to an agency. They must rise from memory and remorse.
The father anticipated inconvenience. The son encountered conscience. In the fading glow of the pyre, a man understood that some debts are never financial. They are human.
