Lights On

Right after brushing my teeth in the morning, I found the 108 ambulance waiting outside our flat. Soon, I realized it had come to collect somebody from our opposite house. The grand-mom in that family had expired. They were searching for a doctor to certify her death.

I’m just coming from my visit to their home. Somehow, I don’t really feel comfortable visit a house where someone has died. The entire aura is so sorrowful. Everybody would be mourning, and I find it difficult to figure out how and what to do. Departure of the beloved is, of course, painful.

But, contrary to all my thoughts, the scene here was completely different. Not a single person mourning here! May be they were quite prepared for this sudden departure. The departed was a heart patient; she has had a series of heart problems earlier and was in her mid seventies. My mom told me that after the age of 65, gujjus start believing that they have lived enough and prepare themselves for the departure. They tend to ignore critical health problems and take it for granted. My mom also told me that generally daughters mourn and sons do not mourn much. This lady only had a son. So the entire situation was very mild and light. The event was taken very casually. The son, who is a school teacher at Bombay (oops, I hope the MNS isn’t reading this), was found worrying about the exam answer sheets that he hadn’t checked so far, and may not be able to, because of the rituals that would follow the death. I also found the man smiling once or twice while talking to the visitors. Was he being stoical? Well, I guess not.

Death being taken so casually is quite surprising for me, and definitely an unprecedented experience.

This entry was posted on Thursday, October 22nd, 2009 at 12:10 pm and is filed under General. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.
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