The van sped through the busy thoroughfares of the city. As it went past people on scooters and cars averted their eyes - almost as if they were scared of being infected by the contents of the vehicle. And who could blame them? In spite of reading and hearing about death people were still worried that if they looked at the vehicle carrying the mortal remains they would in some waybe affected by death sooner or later. For those who came upon the van suddenly - there was no option but to run their hand over their heads ( so that they do not have bad dreams) and commend the soul of the departed - to God. The mood of the occupants accompanying the dead body was somber. One o two of them were weeping silently with tears coursing down their cheeks. Someone else was looking into the distance as if he could not be bothered about the whole issue of death. The garrulous one was relating the tales of the goodness of the dead person and extolling the virtues of that person. Once in a while he would break down in mid sentence and start wailing - "oh why did it have to happen? - Fate is cruel to good people - it is unbearable" - and then he would become hysterical. Until someone acknowledged his rantings and offered him water. Then he would again continue on and on - till some overwrought person told him to shut up. A mini fight would break out and someone would point out to them that this was not the place to air their grievances.
For sometime an uneasy peace would reign the vehicle. Then the practical one would speak up. " Did anyone remember to bring the death certificate from the doctor?" he would ask. The man of action would start getting riled up. Who was responsible for getting the death certificate? Why am I the only one to look after everything. Sure there has been a death - does not mean that you all behave like corpses - and then he would scream at the top of his voice to the driver to pull up to the side. In the meanwhile he has already nominated the most reliable person (in his opinion) to get out of the vehicle and hurry home to get the certificate. The whole vehicle is in an uproar. Added to this is the honking of the horns of the rush hour traffic. There is a general bedlam. The 'dear departed' is forgotten for the moment. Then a small voice from the front of the van - " I have the death certificate". Further recriminations follow - "why did you not say so before? - "Are you deaf or something"?- "You have always been inattentive in life". - "You are such an idiot"- "You are useless" - the general consensus about the youngster and his uselessness and idiocy quietens down the others. It is almost as if reaching this agreement put everyone in a good mood. The van resumes its journey to the graveyard. Not all are quiet though. The practical one is still at it. "I hope you have sent someone in advance to book the crematorium to book the cremation plot".
A fresh argument breaks out. " Why not the electric crematorium"? someone said. And then he goes on to extol the virtues of an electric crematorium as to how it is more hygienic - no wood used - saves trees - good on the environment - and so on. Someone else says that the last wish of the dead person was to be cremated on the pyre and not in an electric crematorium. Again a heated argument breaks out . Finally someone who is more assertive says that irrespective of the last wishes it is better to use the electric crematorium. The others are by now too drained to argue further. It is finally decided that the electric crematorium be used....
The van reaches the 'Smashan Ghat'. Immediately the van is surrounded by the touts. Someone screaming at providing the wood. Others offering the plot for burning the body and yet someone else offering the services of the priest. Everyone is rebuffed . The body is carried to the stone block outside the electric crematorium. They struggle as the person who died had a rather robust life and was quite heavy. There is general cursing as the body dips to one side being too heavy for the frail person in charge of that end of the crude stretcher. Someone else rushes to assist on that side. They reach the stone platform and somehow manage to dump the body unceremoniously on the platform. General panting all round. The accompanying priest begins his chants and the rituals. The eldest son carries out the required activities mechanically. As he finally circles the body he is told by the priest to shout in the ear - as if to ensure that the person is really passed away and wont come back from the pyre. The other brothers trailing behind the eldest also do the same - finally touching the feet before the body is consigned to the flames.The other relatives and friends, now having been unburdened have split into small groups talking among themselves. Someone is discussing the Pay commission in low tones while some others are talking about how they had made a similar trip to the ghat earlier. One among them is hailing the attendant at the crematorium in a familiar manner - it is obvious that he has been here earlier. Someone else in a predictive voice is talking about how they will have to be back here soon as their friend's father was on his way out.....
By now there is a general restlessness in the crowd. Why is it taking so long says someone. The man with his ear to the ground comes back with the information that there is a power cut. And that the power is not likely to be restored anytime soon. As soon as this information becomes public, everyone is talking at once. One of them is already on his mobile phone passing instructions to his underling that he will be late from the funeral and that, the shop should be opened to business, as he would get delayed. Once again the powers that be are in a huddle , discussing their next course of action. It is finally decided that the body will be burnt on the pyre.
It looks like the dead person has had its own way - one last time.....
Meanwhile....
The rate of firewood had gone up dramatically - as had the price of the plot for burning and the cost of oil and ghee. Not to be left behind the priest has also raised his price as he was to have gone to a wedding and that if he had to stay he should be suitably compensated. Now began the most sordid part of the whole affair - bargaining over the dead body. Voices were raised and finally came down a few octaves as the people started cajoling the touts. an acceptable remuneration was finally arrived at for all concerned . Things start moving at a rapid pace thereafter. Within no time the body is on the pyre and the flowers and wreaths are out of the way. The body is covered with wood . The grieving children see the familiar face for one last time. The memory will linger for sometime - before the only thing remaining would be the photographs of happier times....
For sometime an uneasy peace would reign the vehicle. Then the practical one would speak up. " Did anyone remember to bring the death certificate from the doctor?" he would ask. The man of action would start getting riled up. Who was responsible for getting the death certificate? Why am I the only one to look after everything. Sure there has been a death - does not mean that you all behave like corpses - and then he would scream at the top of his voice to the driver to pull up to the side. In the meanwhile he has already nominated the most reliable person (in his opinion) to get out of the vehicle and hurry home to get the certificate. The whole vehicle is in an uproar. Added to this is the honking of the horns of the rush hour traffic. There is a general bedlam. The 'dear departed' is forgotten for the moment. Then a small voice from the front of the van - " I have the death certificate". Further recriminations follow - "why did you not say so before? - "Are you deaf or something"?- "You have always been inattentive in life". - "You are such an idiot"- "You are useless" - the general consensus about the youngster and his uselessness and idiocy quietens down the others. It is almost as if reaching this agreement put everyone in a good mood. The van resumes its journey to the graveyard. Not all are quiet though. The practical one is still at it. "I hope you have sent someone in advance to book the crematorium to book the cremation plot".
A fresh argument breaks out. " Why not the electric crematorium"? someone said. And then he goes on to extol the virtues of an electric crematorium as to how it is more hygienic - no wood used - saves trees - good on the environment - and so on. Someone else says that the last wish of the dead person was to be cremated on the pyre and not in an electric crematorium. Again a heated argument breaks out . Finally someone who is more assertive says that irrespective of the last wishes it is better to use the electric crematorium. The others are by now too drained to argue further. It is finally decided that the electric crematorium be used....
The van reaches the 'Smashan Ghat'. Immediately the van is surrounded by the touts. Someone screaming at providing the wood. Others offering the plot for burning the body and yet someone else offering the services of the priest. Everyone is rebuffed . The body is carried to the stone block outside the electric crematorium. They struggle as the person who died had a rather robust life and was quite heavy. There is general cursing as the body dips to one side being too heavy for the frail person in charge of that end of the crude stretcher. Someone else rushes to assist on that side. They reach the stone platform and somehow manage to dump the body unceremoniously on the platform. General panting all round. The accompanying priest begins his chants and the rituals. The eldest son carries out the required activities mechanically. As he finally circles the body he is told by the priest to shout in the ear - as if to ensure that the person is really passed away and wont come back from the pyre. The other brothers trailing behind the eldest also do the same - finally touching the feet before the body is consigned to the flames.The other relatives and friends, now having been unburdened have split into small groups talking among themselves. Someone is discussing the Pay commission in low tones while some others are talking about how they had made a similar trip to the ghat earlier. One among them is hailing the attendant at the crematorium in a familiar manner - it is obvious that he has been here earlier. Someone else in a predictive voice is talking about how they will have to be back here soon as their friend's father was on his way out.....
By now there is a general restlessness in the crowd. Why is it taking so long says someone. The man with his ear to the ground comes back with the information that there is a power cut. And that the power is not likely to be restored anytime soon. As soon as this information becomes public, everyone is talking at once. One of them is already on his mobile phone passing instructions to his underling that he will be late from the funeral and that, the shop should be opened to business, as he would get delayed. Once again the powers that be are in a huddle , discussing their next course of action. It is finally decided that the body will be burnt on the pyre.
It looks like the dead person has had its own way - one last time.....
Meanwhile....
The rate of firewood had gone up dramatically - as had the price of the plot for burning and the cost of oil and ghee. Not to be left behind the priest has also raised his price as he was to have gone to a wedding and that if he had to stay he should be suitably compensated. Now began the most sordid part of the whole affair - bargaining over the dead body. Voices were raised and finally came down a few octaves as the people started cajoling the touts. an acceptable remuneration was finally arrived at for all concerned . Things start moving at a rapid pace thereafter. Within no time the body is on the pyre and the flowers and wreaths are out of the way. The body is covered with wood . The grieving children see the familiar face for one last time. The memory will linger for sometime - before the only thing remaining would be the photographs of happier times....
