Wreaths and white handkerchiefs in place,

Decked in black, fully made up,

They go visiting


The cemetery is not too far from their abode

Yet they choose to visit only once a year

So they walk towards the gravestone,

Almost mechanically,

So many generations, like cattle,

Simply following a tradition, abiding by the rules

Submissively revisiting


“He was a nice man, a family man”

“Ever so generous, patient, humble, a teetotaler”

Said another

On the verge of tears, just this once


But after fifteen minutes, like clock work

They head home

To prepare for supper

Life goes on


Revisiting him, only a formality!




Navindi Fernandopulle

Colombo 07

Sri Lanka

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