Death

It is strange that my first blog should be about death. Then again, I believe, like most people, death is like a new beginning.

I don’t know what happens to the person who dies, but I do know it does change the life of people close to him/her. I have been exposed to this truth, twice so far and I am sure a lot more will follow.

The first was my father’s. I had spoken to him just a few hours before he passed on. It was my daughter’s birthday, and we had telephoned my father, so that he could bless her. We were living in NJ at that time. We discussed his travel plans, as he was planning a visit to NJ. He talked about having gone to the travel agent and getting the details. Everyone was so sure that tomorrow would come and we would be alive to carry out all our plans. The next day did come, and I got the phone call from Bangalore… the dreaded phone call…

In all the years, I had been in NJ; I used to think how I would react to that phone call. When it came, I still didn’t know… How does one react to that finality? What could I have done? That helplessness brings tears… and that’s all one does… cry. My husband… couldn’t tell me anything either… everyone was suddenly at a loss for words. He immediately began calling travel agents to book my tickets to Bangalore. That was all he could do. He understood. Nobody could fill the big gaping hole in my heart…. I don’t think it will ever fill back up. My daughter all of five…. was my rock. I was amazed at how well she could console me. Sometimes I feel that it was my father speaking through her. I know it sounds too farfetched… but…. when death happens… I don’t think the human mind could handle the separation. We always are in denial. Or we try to justify… my father had lived a full life… he really had had enough he wanted to go very badly and he got his wish. He is still alive in me and my daughter, my siblings and nieces and nephew.

The second death…. was that of my uncle. This time however, I was a little prepared for the event. I knew what would happen next. But the helplessness was still there. I could understand what my cousins were going through…and that’s all… once again words fail. I could feel my aunt’s pain. But, this time I could keep my senses around me… there was a lot to be done, lots of rituals to be performed.

Hindu rites and rituals during this time, I feel, are designed to take your mind off the sadness. The children and relatives have no time to grieve immediately after the fact… the body has to be cremated as early as possible, friends and family have to be informed, a priest has to be arranged, money has to be arranged, etc., etc. One might argue that the rituals get in the way of grieving, what is the necessity for having a crowd in the house when one wants to be left alone? But, then again what is the point in doing otherwise, for something that was bound to happen? My father used to say “Jaathasya Maranam Dhruvam” If you are born, then you will die, that is certain. Like I said, it does hurt at first, but it is an eventuality that everyone knows, is going to happen one day. It might be sooner or later. We might think sometimes that it was way to early when young people die, sometimes very old and people with serious illnesses have an agonizing wait, but we have absolutely no say in this matter.

But, life goes on. We move on, I did and my cousins will too… like my mother says… we cannot go with anybody who is leaving… we have to wait our turn. She is my other rock, she believes in doing, so that we learn by watching her, than her telling us what to do. She believes… or at least it seems like that to me… that, since we have this life to live, we should make the most of it, what is the point in feeling sad or wasting time just waiting… put it to good use…. do what has been put off on the back burner, help people… keep busy…make life meaningful as long as it lasts. So that if at all there is life after death… we should not look back and say… I wish I had done that or this… there would be no regrets.