Death

 On a cold winter night, I heard a sudden cry of the whole family in my neighbourhood. I was shocked and felt sudden fear running through my veins. The man in the family was ill for some time and the wife and the children were helpless. None of their relatives ever paid a single visit to them in their challenging times during the last few months. The poor family lost its only breadwinner. The future of the three children – two girls, five and six years old, and a three-year-old boy – was in dark now. Who will feed them and look after their needs such as their education? And what about the young beautiful wife? Ever ready to pounce, the hungry street dogs and wolves in the nearby jungle, barking and howling, made the scene even more terrifying. Next day the body was taken in procession to the nearby crematorium. The boy’s head was shaven and right in front of the whole family and some of us, the body was burnt to ashes.

The other day, I was travelling by a local train and it stopped at a local station, where I saw a dead body of a young man lying on a platform. The head and the face were disfigured, but the body looked intact – a clear case of an accident on railway tracks – a common phenomenon in Mumbai. The face was turned towards our train, so I cloud feel as if that dead body was looking at me. There were police and railway staff standing by it. Perhaps they were trying to find out the details, viz. whereabouts and family, of the dead. What must have been the plight of the man while dying? Was he even able to think at the time of accident? If yes, then what might have been his thoughts?  

Many years ago, there was a big flood in Mumbai due to a very heavy rain and many people died during the event. One could witness truckloads of dead bodies being moved in the city for days. Those days, I lived near a government hospital and used to visit its canteen for my daily lunch and sometimes for my dinner as well. During this time around, I saw a young father carrying in his arms his dead baby. I never new the cause of death, but the father looked more like a zombie himself. What was running in his mind at that time?   

                                                                            Crematorium near my place

Now, where I live, there is a crematorium. Behind it a river flows and on other side of the river is a jungle. Almost every second day, I get to see dead bodies brought there and cremated. These dead bodies come in all shapes, sizes and colours – What I mean is, young and old, babies and grownups, skinny and fat, fair and dark, tall and short. Most of the times a body continues to burn through the day. When I walk by this crematorium, which I do every day, the ash particles, due to strong wind, fly all around falling on my body, going into my nose and mouth. In the beginning, I used to rush home and take a bath and wash my clothes immediately. But now, I got used to it and I don’t care! I enjoy the process. In fact, I love the experience.      

I take this whole new experience of witnessing the cremation of dead bodies almost on a daily basis, as a blessing in disguise. Every time, I see a dead body cremated, a piece of attachment to this world gets chipped away from me. I don’t even feel bad to see a young boy, 8-9 years old, giving fire to the dead body of his father. I witnessed this recently, right from his head being shaved to the time of giving Mukhagni and then the whole body getting consumed by the fire. For a split second I felt sad, when I looked at the young boy, but immediately I reprimanded myself for being so foolish.

No doubt, death appears merciless and sometimes cruel and it does not seem to care about our present situation. When it comes, most of the people are least prepared. They all have plans! I happened to visit a mall recently and in a fashion store, I found a woman so jubilant on purchasing a nice expensive Indian Saree. But what amazed me was her comment, “I can preserve it for the next thirty years and also use it on the occasions of my grandchildren’s wedding.” Really? You think so!

With my new perspective about our existence, I have begun see every human being differently. When I see people talking with each other, I wonder, if they are even aware of the uncertainty of their lives. Does life depend on death or death depends on life? Quite debatable! But let it be for now. I am not being pessimistic. I am not even saying one must lose all interest in life. No! In fact, we all must live with full enthusiasm. All I am saying is, do not forget the most significant event of your life – death. I feel more peaceful when I think of death.

Death is more real than life! It gives meaning to our existence. What would we do, if we were not sure of death – the only event that is certain in our life, irrespective of when it comes? It teaches us the greatest lesson of nonattachment and desirelessness – setting us free from all the bondages created by life. I bow to DEATH for being such a true friend!