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Chapter 7
The Last Journey
The air inside the funeral van felt heavy.
Not just warm — suffocating.
The slow rumble of the engine filled the silence like a dull heartbeat, and yet it failed to drown the sound of Rajni's sobs. They kept escaping her chest in broken bursts, as if every breath carried a fragment of her shattered world.
She sat in the back of the van, her body trembling.
In front of her, on two metal stretchers, lay the bodies of her parents.
Covered in white sheets.
Silent.
Still.
Unmoving.
The cloth gently rose and fell with the movement of the van, creating the illusion of life for a brief moment… before the cruel truth returned again.
They were gone.
Forever.
Rajni's fingers clutched the edge of the wooden bench so tightly that her knuckles had turned white. Her throat burned from crying, but the tears refused to stop.
Beside her sat Neeta, her college friend.
Neeta had one arm wrapped around Rajni's shoulders, gently rubbing her back, trying to calm her.
"Rajni…" she said softly.
But Rajni only shook her head, her face buried in her hands.
"I want them back…"
Her voice came out broken.
"I just want them back…"
Neeta swallowed.
Her own eyes had turned red long ago, but she forced herself to stay strong. Someone had to.
"Rajni," she said firmly but gently, "listen to me."
Rajni slowly lifted her face.
Her eyes looked swollen and hollow.
Neeta took a deep breath.
"You can't keep crying like this forever. I know it hurts. God, I know it hurts. But you have to stay strong now."
Rajni stared at her silently.
Neeta continued.
"You have responsibilities now."
Her voice grew more practical.
"The house rent… your college… food… electricity… everything."
Rajni looked away.
Every word felt like a hammer striking her heart.
But Neeta wasn't wrong.
That was the worst part.
"You're alone now," Neeta said quietly. "You will have to manage everything."
Rajni closed her eyes.
Alone.
The word echoed inside her head.
A deep breath escaped her lips, shaky and uneven.
Just then—
SCREEECH!
The funeral van jerked violently.
Rajni and Neeta were thrown slightly forward as the brakes screamed against the road.
"What happened?!" Neeta asked instantly, grabbing the seat.
The driver cursed under his breath.
"Traffic jam," he muttered.
The van had come to a complete stop.
Outside, horns blared endlessly.
Vehicles stretched across the road in a chaotic line.
The driver wiped sweat from his forehead and opened the door.
"I'll check what's going on."
He stepped out of the van and walked toward a motorcyclist who had stopped nearby.
"Brother!" the driver called. "Why is the road blocked?"
The motorcyclist laughed bitterly.
"New councillor won the election."
The driver frowned.
"So?"
"So he's celebrating."
The biker pointed ahead.
"Victory procession."
Music.
Drums.
Political flags.
Dancing supporters.
The entire road had been blocked.
The biker spat on the road in disgust.
"These politicians don't do any real work," he said angrily. "But they love blocking roads with rallies."
Then he drove away.
The driver returned to the van, shaking his head.
"It's a political rally," he told the girls.
Neeta sighed in frustration.
"Of course it is."
Rajni didn't react.
She simply stared at the white sheets covering her parents.
Thirty minutes passed.
It felt like hours.
The van had become unbearably hot.
Outside, loud music blasted from speakers.
Supporters shouted slogans.
Firecrackers exploded.
Rajni sat there with her dead parents while the world celebrated politics outside.
The driver finally exploded in anger.
"This is ridiculous," he muttered.
"If an ambulance got stuck like this, a patient could die."
He shook his head.
"But who cares? These leaders only care about votes."
Eventually, the rally moved forward.
The traffic slowly began to clear.
The driver started the engine again and the van resumed its journey.
As the city faded behind them, the scenery changed.
Tall buildings turned into empty fields.
Dust floated in the air.
The smell of smoke slowly drifted through the open window.
They were approaching the cremation ground.
The sun had begun to sink toward the horizon.
Long shadows stretched across the land.
Neeta took out her phone and called a few people from Rajni's neighborhood.
By the time they arrived at the cremation ground, several neighbors were already waiting.
Seven or eight people stood near the entrance.
Their faces carried expressions of sympathy and quiet sadness.
An elderly man stepped forward.
Rajni knew him as Kaka.
His eyes softened when he saw her.
"Rajni beta…" he said gently.
"Our condolences."
His voice trembled.
"We arranged the firewood for both cremations."
He pointed toward two large stacks of wood nearby.
"The neighborhood collected money together."
Rajni lowered her head silently.
Neeta stepped forward and folded her hands.
"Thank you, Kaka. We truly appreciate it."
"But we'll need a priest," she added.
"And the ritual items."
Kaka nodded.
"I'll arrange everything."
Within a short time, the preparations began.
The priest arrived.
The ritual items were brought.
Rajni walked slowly toward the funeral pyres.
Neeta supported her by the arm.
The priest began chanting.
The sound of ancient mantras filled the air.
Soon, the fire was lit.
Flames rose slowly.
Then higher.
Then higher.
The fire crackled as it consumed the wood.
And eventually—
The bodies.
Rajni stood there, staring at the flames.
Her tears had stopped.
Not because the pain had gone.
But because something inside her had become empty.
The heat of the fire touched her face.
But she didn't move.
She slowly opened her purse.
Counted the remaining money.
After hospital bills.
After the funeral van.
After the wood.
After everything.
Only five thousand rupees remained.
She clenched the notes tightly in her fist.
When the rituals were finally complete, Neeta's phone rang.
She stepped aside.
"Yes mom…"
"I'm still at the cremation ground."
"Yes… everything is almost done."
"I'll drop Rajni home first."
"Then I'll come back."
"Yes, it might take another hour."
She hung up and walked back.
Rajni looked calmer now.
Not healed.
Just… exhausted.
"Let's go," Neeta said softly.
"We'll have to come tomorrow for the ashes."
"And on the twelfth day we'll need to arrange food for people."
Rajni nodded slowly.
"Yes."
They took a bus back toward the city.
When they reached Rajni's neighborhood, Neeta stopped near her house.
The two girls looked at each other for a moment.
No words were necessary.
Neeta hugged her tightly.
"Call me if you need anything."
Rajni nodded.
Then she walked toward her house.
She opened the door.
The silence inside hit her like a storm.
The house felt colder.
Empty.
Dead.
She walked inside slowly.
Then sat down on the floor.
Her shoulders began shaking again.
Now there was no one watching.
No one comforting her.
No one left.
The sobs returned.
Suddenly—
KNOCK.
KNOCK.
KNOCK.
Rajni wiped her tears and stood up.
She opened the door.
Her landlord stood outside.
His face showed no real sympathy.
"Very sad about your parents," he said briefly.
Then he cleared his throat.
"But… the new month started ten days ago."
Rajni stared at him silently.
"The rent hasn't been paid yet."
Her heart sank.
Of course.
Life didn't stop for grief.
Without saying a word, she opened her purse.
Took out money.
Counted fifteen hundred rupees.
She handed it to him.
"Here."
The landlord took the money.
Counted it.
Then simply walked away.
The door closed.
Rajni stood alone in the middle of the room.
She looked down at the money left in her hand.
Three thousand five hundred rupees.
That was all she had.
For food.
For rent.
For rituals.
For survival.
She slowly sat down on the floor again.
The notes slipped from her fingers and scattered across her lap.
Her parents had been cremated only hours ago.
Their ashes were still warm.
And yet—
Life had already demanded payment.
A tired, bitter smile appeared on Rajni's lips.
"So this is the world…"
She whispered.
"This… is life."