I, Sharmi, Diamond- Ep-17
17-Sharmi The pain of my father’s loss was strangely intertwined with a sense of release from the crushing weight of our problems. It felt wrong to admit it, even to myself, but I couldn’t deny the truth. When I returned home from the party, my father’s body lay in the central hall. My mother was spent crying, her voice hoarse and broken. A large crowd had gathered outside the house. The old man who had come for his daughter’s wedding was among them. I overheard snippets of conversation: “It was hard enough when he was alive; now that he’s gone, how will we ever get our money back? We’ll all be ruined.” The sight of my father—his face a deep, unnatural red, his tongue slightly protruding—triggered a fresh wave of grief. I couldn’t bear to watch them take his body away. For the first time in my memory, I fainted. The police investigations and other legal formalities continued for a while. Then, the people who had invested money with my father began to appear at our doorstep. Realizing t...