“Uncle how would I console myself for this tragedy; the sudden demise of mom? I just come out from the ICU after one nurse asked me to purchase the injection from outside medicine shop and when returned, everything was finished. Imagine a government run medical college hospital didn’t provide oxygen to my mom,” Ravi finally broke down while sobbing. Sitting beside me in front of the burning pyre, Ravi put his head on my shoulder, was weeping profusely. I was unable to answer his question rather stared at how Mrs Singh was going to be reduced to ashes inside the blazing flame. River Ganga was flowing quietly irrespective of our miseries, only creating the reflections of the burning pyres on the water at its riverbank. Sometimes reflected the headlights of the motorcades on the Ganga bridge on the flowing current of the river.