The boy, clutching a stick tightly, sprinted along the riverbanks, passing by the lifeless forms— some ablaze, others submerged. His frantic cries of "amma, amma" echoed as he ran, his urgency palpable. A stumble sent him crashing against a rock engraved with the sacred symbols and blood started to trickle from his forehead. With one eye blinded by the flow, he attempted to stem the bleeding with a trembling hand, then pressed on. His trail marked by droplets of crimson, he carried a bag containing an unlikely duo— a finch and a cobra, their presence accompanied by eerie sounds. Amidst the chaos, his mother remained elusive, beyond reach or call. Exhausted, he paused, gasping for breath. The river, a source of solace, now seemed his only hope, though despair clouded his gaze. Dizziness encroached, and spectral figures, once recipients of his care, now trailed him ominously, hinting at futility. The sun surrendered to twilight, boats returned, and bats claimed their perches. Evening prayers concluded, yet his longing to reunite with his mother remained unquenched, every attempt to connect met with disappearance. As his body swayed, he succumbed to the river's embrace. In the moon's gentle glow, the bubbles whispered a final farewell.