A Fine Balance

by Rohinton Mistry

Let me tell you a secret: there is no such thing as an uninteresting life.”

Completeness. In the crematorium with Daddy this was missing, an open pyre was definitely better. Better for the living …

The coals perked up as they were fanned. How they glowed, thought Maneck—live creatures breathing and pulsating. Starting small, with modest heat, then growing to powerful red incandescence, spitting and snapping, their tongues of flame crackling, all heat and passion, transforming, threatening, devouring. And then—the subsidence. Into mellow warmth, compliance, and, finally, a perfect stillness

When you go so far away, you change. Distance is a difficult thing.