It's wicked to mock the afflicted

Three men tapping on the grave of an uncle. This tiny gesture. The men crouching and motionless except for their index fingers quickly tapping messages beyond their generation, through earth and coffin, to reverberate against the quiet bones laying in darkness. With soundless vibrations, they communicate love, duty and the painfulness of loss to the remains of the man. This tiny gesture. More striking than their previous laborious devotions of washing the grave from a plastic litre bottle of water and pulling the petals of yellow and orange flowers to frame the gravestone portrait. These three men and this tiny gesture filled me with love for humanity.