The grating rises. Inside, great coils sear with redness. The shroud is ripped off and thrown to a side. His hands are wrenched away from the tiny toes. With a firm push, the trolley races into the coils. Huge flames erupt, licking the shrivelled body. A lever is swung, the grating crashes down.
Morning. An ashen-faced man scans a shelf. An urn, neatly labelled, is placed on the counter. Ashes and a bone fragment.
A priest chants by a river. A brinjal and some white flowers float away.
A bitch howls
by a dead puppy.