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
