>During the last few funerals that I have attended, I had a million thoughts racing in my head.
As I saw a human being turn into a corpse, I tried to understand what makes us withdraw from the coldness of a dead body. Why does a corpse becomes untouchable even for family and friends? What fear stops you from touching the person you loved after he’s dead?
I wondered at the rituals – their purpose, their need: The elaborate rituals that are rendered meaningless by our ignorance, their impracticality. The rituals that only a son can perform, and the ones that the son refuses to perform. The moral censure, the right, wrong and all that comes between the two.
I looked amusedly at the family congregations at the funerals. Old family acquaintances getting together, catching up with family gossip on the pretext of mourning a death. Blame games – there must be somebody responsible for the sudden death – the doctor, the wife, the children, who? Politics – there must be some way to prove I was closer to that person who died than others present there… There are those who come to oblige you with their presence, those who should have come but do not because they’re too busy, too successful. Where is the serenity that the ocassion demands?
The moving on – how easy and effortless. How apt too.