Flanked by funeral pyres flickering in the darkness, Shankar Pradhan stood barefoot on the edge of Kathmandu's sacred Bagmati River, where the dead pulled daily from the city's ruins have been brought nonstop since a massive earthquake shook this impoverished mountain nation.
He doused his daughter's feet and lips in holy water three times. He knelt down and kissed the orange shroud she was wrapped in. And then helped by grieving relatives, he spread red ochre and marigolds over the corpse, encased it in a tomb of dry wood and set it ablaze.
The ancient Hindu cremation rite is meant to purify souls for the afterlife, and this was far from the only one for Pradhan and his extended family.
When the quake crumpled his brother's four-story house into a cloud of dust Saturday, it left them with a total of 18 souls to prepare.
"I don't know why this happened. But I don't blame anyone. I don't blame the government, I don't blame the gods," he said, struggling to fight back tears. "You can't escape the rules of this life. None of us escape the fact that one day you'll have to leave it."
Pradhan's 21-year-old daughter was one of nearly 5,000 people who perished in the worst tremor this country has seen in more than 80 years.
Even in a nation where death and destruction have touched a vast area stretching from the icy peaks of Mount Everest to remote villages that rescue workers have yet to reach, the grief visited upon Pradhan's family is overwhelming.
About 30 of his relatives had gathered in the house for a weeklong traditional Hindu prayer session he said was meant to beget peace and safety.
Prayers were supposed to begin exactly at noon Saturday, said Krishna Lal Shrestha, who was decorating a four-foot marble temple with flowers inside the house as the time approached.
At 11:56 a.M., the house began shaking violently. "People were screaming, '"Run! Run!'" Shrestha said. He was thrown to the ground and tried to crawl further inside the house. Instead, by an incredible stroke of luck, he was hurled through a door outside.
When he crawled away and turned back, he watched in terror as the building's four floors collapsed one by one, crushing to death almost everyone inside.
"All I could see was a cloud of dust," he said.
About a dozen people had managed to flee in time. Two children who were on the roofs somehow slid down the rubble, bruised but alive. The death toll could have been even worse if the quake had struck later, when more than 100 additional family members were expected.
Pradhan, 49, was working at his small shop in another part of Kathmandu and rushed home to find his distraught wife and four other children outside.