Narin and her Grandma had settled into a quiet routine by the River Tigris in 2014, finding peace in nature after their move to Zêrav to stay with relatives. The pair often sought solace by sitting on a large rock near the river, reflecting on the surroundings that had once been filled with life and prosperity. The area, once home to bustling eateries with the aroma of grilled fish, particularly masgouf, now appeared desolate, with buildings decaying and forgotten. Narin, as per her religious beliefs, refrained from eating fish, and she felt a deep sadness for the loss of the vibrant energy the place once held, wishing she could have experienced it in its prime. Despite the melancholic atmosphere, the river’s flow continued to remind them of what had been, and it served as a poignant symbol of how time and neglect had changed the land around them.

Their peaceful moment is abruptly interrupted when Grandma notices a scorpion nearby, which sparks a philosophical conversation between them about the silent language of nature. Grandma, ever thoughtful, explains how everything in nature communicates in its own way, from the rustling leaves to the very stillness of the air. She speaks of the importance of listening, as even death and silence carry their own messages, reminding Narin of how little is truly understood about the world. Grandma’s observations of the scorpion, as dangerous as it is, reflect her broader perspective on the interconnectedness of all things. Narin, while intrigued by these reflections, remains hesitant, as the notion of communicating with creatures that can be deadly unsettles her, yet she is drawn into Grandma’s way of thinking.

The moment takes a darker turn when Grandma, sensing something unusual, leads Narin closer to the river. They discover a floating body in the water, an unsettling sight that sharply contrasts with their earlier peaceful reflections. Grandma, upon seeing the lifeless figure, experiences a deep sense of sorrow, recognizing that another life has been taken, its body now carried by the current. Her attempts to retrieve the body are in vain, as the strong current keeps it just out of reach, despite her gentle prayers and efforts. This encounter with death forces Grandma to reflect on the harshness of the world around them, leaving her with a sense of unease that lingers even as the day progresses. Her decision to keep the incident to herself is prompted by the rumors of disappearances in the area, as the river’s dark history continues to haunt the village.

The Tigris River, once revered as a lifeline for the people, had now become a symbol of loss and despair, carrying with it the remnants of countless tragedies. The once-pristine waters, now polluted by human waste, reflect a sad truth: the river had become a forgotten graveyard for those whose lives had been claimed by violence, neglect, or misfortune. The oppressive atmosphere is compounded by the growing fear of ISIS militants in the region, with whispers of people disappearing into the river’s depths or being taken by the rising tide of violence. Grandma, always attuned to nature’s whispers, continues her habit of speaking to the elements, finding solace in the belief that there is still communication to be found in nature. Yet even as she connects with the land around her, there is an undeniable sense of danger lurking, as though the river and the earth themselves are warning them of the dark forces that threaten their peaceful existence.

As the day fades into evening, the stark contrast between nature’s beauty and the human suffering around them becomes more apparent. Grandma and Narin, once comforted by the river’s flow, now find themselves filled with a quiet dread, understanding that their world, once full of vibrancy and life, is being overtaken by an unseen threat. The ominous presence of the river, its waters tainted by pollution and bloodshed, serves as a metaphor for the harsh reality they now face. With every step they take, they are reminded of the fragility of life, the unspoken dangers surrounding them, and the inevitability of change. This chapter marks a turning point for Narin, as the haunting images of the body in the river and the growing sense of danger compel her to reconsider her place in this world and the future of her people.