Confronting the solitude in festivities

In a village, an old man clings to memories of his sons, hoping they will return. But as festivals approach, he knows he’ll face the holiday alone.

The old man let out a long sigh, got up from the veranda, and walked toward the edge of the porch, from where he could see a bazaar named Besithumka. That was where his two brothers lived with their respective families. The village where the old man lived exuded an aura of haunted hinterlands, with every family locking their houses and moving to the bazaar. Now, the old man saw only his wife—a short, greying woman waiting for the inevitable.