Suppose you are Khushwant Singh. Your grandmother dies just after your returning from abroad. Write a letter to your friend describing him the end of the great lady. Don’t forget to include the strange behaviour of the sparrows at her death.

26 Mirza Ismail Road

Jaipur

20 August, 2008

Dear Ramesh

You will be grieved to know that the grand old lady of our family is no more in this world. She breathed her last on last Sunday. She died just three days after I returned from Germany. Actually, she overstrained herself. She gathered all the ladies of the neighbourhood in the evening on the day of my arrival. She continued thumping an old drum singing the homecoming of warriors. That day she was so much excited that she forgot even to pray. The next morning she fell ill. She knew that her end was near. She lay peacefully in bed. She was praying and telling her beads. Her lips stopped and the rosary fell from her lifeless hands. She was dead. So ended the life-history of a great and noble soul.

A strange thing happened. Hundreds of sparrows sat scattered over the floor near her dead body. There was no chirruping. The grandmother used to feed them everyday in the afternoon. My mother broke some bread into little crumbs. She threw the crumbs to them. They took no notice of the bread. The moment the corpse was carried off, the sparrows flew away quietly.

Yours sincerely

Khushwant Singh