PAKISTAN:Benazir Bhutto's last moments were spent, like much of her life, as a lone woman among men. A sea of male hands bore her from her country home in Naudero inside a simple wooden coffin decked with the red, green and black flag of her People's Party.
Anguished wails rang out from the women's enclosure inside the house.
The cortege continued down a road lined with silver-barked eucalyptus trees and pools of bathing water buffalo before reaching the family mausoleum at Gahri Khuda Baksh, a towering Moghul-style structure topped with onion-shaped domes.
Anguished, distraught faces pressed up against the ambulance carrying her coffin as it squeezed through the throng. Glassy-eyed, with combed moustaches, jet black turbans or small red scarves, many struggled to contain their tears.
Angry talk flowed, peppered with accusations that president Pervez Musharraf's officials had secretly orchestrated the bomb attack that killed Bhutto on Wednesday afternoon. The invective exposed naked hatred of Musharraf, old provincial rivalries and despair for the future of Pakistan.
"Punjab is responsible for this. We hate the Punjab. Benazir was safe wherever she went, but when she went to Punjab, she was martyred," said Gul Muhammad Jakhrani, who had travelled from Kashmore district, about two hours away. "The future of Pakistan is very dark."
There were few signs, indeed, that this unofficial kingdom of Bhutto was part of Pakistan. No police were present, there were no national flags, no security checks and no state burial. "Pakistan is no more," declared labourer Fida Hussain.
A few miles away there were pressing signs of recent turmoil - roads blocked by tyres, a line of shuttered shops, and the still-smoking carcass of a burned-out train, abandoned before a crossroads.
The funeral brought Bhutto's friends and party colleagues from Karachi. They arrived on a chartered plane because Sindh's deserted roads, lined with destroyed vehicles, were too dangerous. On arrival in Sukkar, the group was greeted by the whiff of burning rubber and a billowing plume of inky smoke that curled across the sky.
Zia Ispahani, a former ambassador and long-time Bhutto friend, said her death was a great tragedy. "Nobody can fill her position. We are like leaderless orphans," he said.
Inside the mausoleum, Bhutto's remains were laid to rest in a deep pit cut from the marble floor.
Her husband, Asif Zardari, and son Bilawal (19) were the focus of the hour-long burial, struggling to keep their feet as a pulsating crowd of supporters crowded around.
Bilawal, a tall, solemn-faced man who followed in his mother's footsteps this year by starting his studies at Oxford University, kneeled and threw fistfuls of sandy soil into the cavity.
Benazir Bhutto's grave is situated beside an ornate marble tomb housing her father, Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, who was toppled by the military in 1977 and hanged two years later.
In life she lionized her father, endlessly using his image on election posters and in powerful campaign rhetoric. In death, they are lying side by side.
On the other side lay the remains of her two brothers, both of whom also died in murky, violent circumstances
Her grave completed, the mourners draped a red velvet cloth on top and threw handfuls of red rose petals. The fourth Bhutto "martyr" had reached her resting place.
Outside, evening was falling. The vast crowds dissipated down a dusty track as a glowing orange orb hovered over the horizon. The family returned to their mansion to start a mourning period expected to last many days. Soon nobody was left, except for Benazir, reunited in death with the father she idolised.