The night Jadua died six months ago, a shooting star zoomed down the empty sky in a long line of fire, the people of kuri heard the go-away bird hooting a sad mournful tune on the tree, the meaning of all thses were very clear to muren; her husband Jadua had gone straight to heaven, not missing the way.
Muren eyes twinkled, she did not know whether to begin to shed tears of sorrow or tears of gratitude, but because her husband had left her alone to the wicked world just like that, and without a word of farewell, she quickly Mae a choice.
It must be tears of sorrow, sorrow from the abyss of a troubled heart, muren face instantly was shadowed in deep misery and the whole world immediately went blank before his eyes, muren made efforts to console herself even as the distrustful eyes of the sympathizers glared from helms of garments secretly castigating.
Muren wondered her husband certainly did not die a disgraceful death, for this she told herself that she must be thankful Jadua did not die an abominable death, No! He did not drink poison out of frustration with life and he did not fall from the slippery chips if the palm tree on a rainy day.
He was not struck by lightning, not bitten by a cobra, and not crushed to death between the falling walls of any building, Jadua did not hang himself with a rope like the famous late carpenter in the town whose dead body the people had cut down and had buried with an indecent haste, inside a shallow nameless grave filled with loose soil and porous sand.
No sucide for Jadua, he lived like a man, and died like a man, Muren was thankful, but the tears now rolled in torrents down her face, streaming into the corner of her mouth and tasting like salt.
The temporariness if man's passage on earth was certainty, Muren at once surrendered herself to the design of Destiny and to the agony of what seemed to her, an irreplaceable lost.
She was the last human being Jadua saw when his eyes were finally closing up in death, what a great honor! Her husband gave her the last minute parting stare, quick, penetrating, and meaningful.
There was an expression of hurt and disappointment in jadua's dying black eyes, but muren got the message, and with all her heart, she tried to communicate to Jadua, not only sorrow and solidarity, but also deep apology for all the weongs she probably had committed.
Something told her she might have offended her husband deeply, to be shot at and be wounded with such strange, reproachful glare, she was just ready now to beg, ready to atone, ready to profusely apologize.
The painful reality of jadua's last minute on earth rang in muren's head, splitting her brain with remembered images.
She stumbled as she stepped out into the sun to pick up her head tie which had fallen on the ground during the course of prolonged wailing, she was scanned by mourners in all directions, all eyes followed every footsteps she took with hostile closeness, and all ears listened, ready to catch her every word in a set trap.
