The wailing coming from the other end of the veranda was piercing.
Nothing unusual for the keeper at the mortuary. The silence in this abandoned part of the hospital usually gets broken with these familiar noises.
“The post mortem can only be done tomorrow morning” he nonchalantly threw his words at the small crowd outside the room without looking at anyone in particular before bolting the door shut.
He just had received the second body of the day. Someone who had died in an accident early this morning while returning from a marriage. Not that these information matter to him, but he just had overheard from the discussions of the people accompanying the body.
“Do we have to stay here all night?” Someone asked him. Some were dreading the prospect of staking out. Too much for them after what they have been going through since they heard the news. Managing the victim, the bereaved family and the legal procedures involved in such incidents.
“How can I say? Do whatever you wish to.” heaving himself up the raised platform and fishing out his half used bidi from his shirt pocket while replying. He chooses to stretch himself for a while.
Slowly the crowd thins out and silence sets in. Night descends on that part of the campus and the glowing streetlight reminds the keeper to switch on the lone incandescent bulb on the veranda.
“WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE? Didn’t I tell you to come tomorrow”, he shouts admonishingly at the pile of cloth from under which a pair of startled eyes of a frail young woman who looked much older to her age stared with blank expressions. Neither agreeing nor disagreeing.
Disgusted he heads for his outhouse at the back of the mortuary to cook something for the night. The sobbing coming from the veranda was getting audible. Irritated that the woman still hasn’t left, he gets up to confront the woman.
“What will happen to me, now that he died? Who will take care of me and my six months old daughter? She tries to build up a wail but her tired throat failed to match. “This rascal never learnt, he got crushed under a truck while returning drunk! Now what will happen to me?” She was cursing her dead husband and speaking to herself in a tired and broken voice.
“Why do you worry? You are young, someone will surely agree to keep you.” The keeper chooses to give his two pence. “But who will accept me with my child?” the woman speaks unconvinced.
“Check, what you can do with her, someone might want to take her or else …..” he turns back and starts heading towards his unfinished chore.
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