Pakistan, Jan. 17 -- It had hardly been a week since my father had passed away when somebody knocked at the door. I think it was half past 10 in the morning.

"I just got to know your father had passed away."

"Yes he has."

From his age, I assumed he was one of his old friends who had just learnt of his demise.

"I am a merchant. I purchase the belongings of decedents".

"But". The moment I uttered this very word the image of a horse neighing down a shepherd trail, appeared before my eyes.

"My father did not own something worthy which you are interested to purchase".

"A walking stick, a hat, eye glasses or anything of that sort.

"He never wore glasses till he was 80".

"A walking stick or a hat"?

"I wouldn't sell them. These are his ...