“I remember well, madam. He was a well built man who owned a lot of farms in our village. His age would’ve been 42-43 at the time when his son died after which he became addicted to alcohol so much so that his maternal brother had to come and take him to his own village so that he could be cared for. A few days later, we came to know of his death post which, his brother came in to look after his farms” he said.
“And how many years ago did he die?” I asked.
“Umm.. It must have been 30-31 years, I think” he said.
Hemaram’s story turns out to be much more sinister than I thought. And with the same thought I decide to pen this story down.
So this was the final part of the story. Hope you liked it. Do share your thoughts in comments.