Dead Man is never sad

Yesterday, my sister called at 8.45 pm to say a man was lying on the platform opposite her house since morning.  I immediately went and checked his pulse - he had been dead for a long time. He may have been in his 50s or 60s and there was a stick and a pair of slippers next to him.

Right away I went to the police station and informed - the police man asked me if it was man or woman.  When I said it was a man he was sort of relieved.  He took my name and number. I was both happy and sad.

I was happy that the police never troubled me and they never called me back. I later understood that they came with a photographer and took away the body in a van.

I was sad that there were so many people around the dead man and no one bothered or do anything about it.  He was lying right opposite a hospital.  Right next to it were vendors selling eatables and people eating right there.  It takes great courage or complete apathy to do something like that - I think it is the latter.

The dead man perhaps died because he was sad - but I felt he was never sad that no one bothered him after he was dead.  That was what I saw in the dead man's face.  Lesson to learn.

I would want to ask him why he had neatly kept his stick and slippers next to him before dying.