EXT. SUPERMARKET PARKING LOT — DAY
The CAMERA hurtles downward at breakneck speed. Our perspective is through the black-and-white filter of a raven’s vision.
Clouds close behind us as the earth rushes closer. Finally—
The CAMERA halts mere inches above the ground.
It slowly pivots, adjusting its angle.
The CAMERA lifts slightly, just a few centimeters higher.
Everything appears slightly compressed—this is how a raven sees.
RAVEN’S POV:
A parking lot. Not in Germany. In Germany, parking lots are full of cars. Here, instead, are piles of corpses stacked in neat mounds.
MONTAGE. CLOSE-UP.
Quick cuts. Ominous music swells.
A heap of burning bodies. Half-naked Indians throw logs into the flames. A corpse’s eyes burst from the heat. Skin peels from bones. Flesh chars on the legs like roasted meat.
END MONTAGE. MUSIC FADES OUT.
ARIEL, an Indian boy, around sixteen years old, wearing a loincloth, drags a man’s corpse by the leg. The body is aged, singed, and stripped of clothing.
The corpse’s face is unrecognizable.
THUD! The head hits the curb, rolling onto the pavement. Ariel glances back at the body indifferently, then turns to scan the parking lot.
…The lot is bustling with activity.
Bonfires blaze as Indians in turbans and loincloths dart back and forth, efficiently cremating the remains of their relatives.
The air is filled with a festive energy, almost jovial.
Ariel tugs harder on the rope. The body trails behind him, arms outstretched, its burned scalp scraping the asphalt.
From the throng of people at the pyres, a figure emerges—gaunt and clumsy.
AIDISHI, an eighty-year-old, sun-darkened and hunched, limps toward Ariel, wheezing.
We don’t understand his words at first. Ariel stops in his tracks.
The crackling of flames and the thick, tar-black smoke shroud their figures.
Through the haze, the bright, cheerful Walmart sign comes into view. The store operates as usual.
COLOR FOOTAGE:
ARIEL’S POV:
The CAMERA glides smoothly toward Aidishi.
CLOSE-UP. Aidishi’s face.
Aidishi halts three steps away from Ariel. The CAMERA zooms in, catching fragments of their conversation.
AIDISHI
…scum! You’re nothing but a wretched scum! I! I will not let you defile our ancestors’ ashes with your father’s disgrace! Leave!
ARIEL
But Uncle Aidishi! My father—your brother!
AIDISHI
Ha! Listen to me, Ariel! You’re from a lowly caste, and so am I, but your father disowned us! He was a scholar, an astronomer! Let the astronomers bury him! May he rot in hell!
Aidishi spits forcefully at Ariel’s feet.
CLOSE-UP:
A raven leisurely pecks at the eye of a corpse.
Ariel watches without expression.
The CAMERA rises higher and higher.
Ariel drags the body along the rows of burning pyres.
No one pays him any attention. Corpses are hauled in by the dozens, carted and dumped in piles. Indian music plays. The air buzzes with merriment, heatwaves shimmer above the flames.
The raven clings to the corpse, riding it like a convertible.
The second eye is plucked out.
The raven flutters off the body.
The CAMERA follows, soaring higher and higher into the sky.
CREDITS.