Where Do All The Dead Go?

Look! What did I find? Grandfather, It was not flying or crawling. It was sitting on the mud.I blew air softly. The wings shook. So I picked it up. It was Neha, my granddaughter.

She was holding a dead butterfly in her palm.
Her face said she had a lot more to say. So I did not question her.

She added, "It is dead."
The teacher said, "All the dead go to the god"
"So I am carrying it."

There after I felt she was waiting for my response. So I asked, "Are you taking it to the school?"

She just frowned, crinkled her nose and rolled her eyes to give me a look that said, "How very foolish of you."

She added, "I am taking it to the mandir (Temple). I will ask the god to make it fly so that it can come to you."

You can find more of such writing in digital format @ INDIAN FLAVOUR SHORT STORIES Part - 1/2/3
@ AMAZON / BOOKS / e-books

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Horizon by Vilas swadi

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