Short fiction: The death of a couple’s young son makes them re-evaluate their relationship with him

It is two days after Holi – the vibrant festival of colour and mirth. The usually quiet lane in the leafy neighbourhood of Lokhandwala has changed, now filled with a fleet of cars, gleaming in the spring sunshine and lining the street. Parking in these parts is typically difficult on a regular day, but today has been a chaotic ordeal. At Shanti Bhavan, the two-storey whitewashed bungalow located on the corner block of the neighbourhood, there is a bustle of activity, reminiscent of a flutter of butterflies in spring. On the cool porch, sandals and shoes are littered on the steps. To the left of the main door, there is a large framed photograph of a young man. He has dark curly hair, a thin face with a strong jawline, sparkling eyes and a smile that reaches his eyes. The photograph is carefully garlanded with strings of yellow marigolds.

Inside, the living room has been cleared out. The sofas have been pushed to the corners, and chairs, rented from a nearby funeral service, are laid out neatly against the walls. A makeshift stage has been placed at one end of the room. It is not high, just a few inches off...

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