Prashant's Solace

I opened my eyes. The left one felt skin obstructing its opening. The right one opened up to a sight of nostrils; beautiful, pale, white nostrils. But it took me both 5 minutes and a year to make sense of this sight. The flooded banks of the mighty Brahmaputra had brought me, or us, asunder onto a remote bank. My head was resting on a woman's belly. She was motionless, just like I was 5 minutes ago. I sat up. On my other side I could see and hear the river in full spate. Hut material, animal carcass and endless stream of branches and twigs drifted past as a stream within a stream. I tried hard to make sense of the sight around. The moment I realised I had leaned on a woman, I jerked myself on my feet and away from her. I looked around. Not a soul. Only nature made sound. I pushed myself for answers towards the woman. She was dead...  Three months ago an Indian journalist had landed at the Guwahati International Airport. Next to him on the same flight was an anxiou