Rama looked for large, hungry animals. If only a tiger would pounce and eat her, she wouldn’t be hungry anymore. Rama looked at her family and wondered how they still moved. We look like ghosts. Perhaps we are and haven’t realized it. Father can’t see; mother can’t walk without help. The rest of us drag ourselves along. If the gods had any pity, we’d collapse and die. But they give us just enough sustenance to torture us.
After several days, Anant Shastri reached a decision.
“I can bear no more,” he said. “We’re near a sacred tank where I can drown myself. Each of you, discern your destiny, whether to die with me or continue on the righteous path.”
Rama felt her stomach clench. As miserable as life was, she wasn’t ready for the next existence.
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