... So we but cherish his memory

by Umangi de Mel

"He who's gone, so we but cherish his memory, abides with us, more potent, nay, more present than the living man" - Antoine de Saint Excipery.

Funerals are sad occasions, to state the obvious. If there's life, there's death, yet again the obvious. Unless of course you are an immortal. A result of a divine intervention. In fact, funerals these days happen in all sizes, shapes and fashions. When I say sizes and shapes, you get posh ones and not-so-posh, ordinary ones. When I say fashions funeral goers nowadays seem to be keen on adorning themselves in many styles and cuts.

Although the approved shade for mourners is either black or white (ie. something sober) the contemporary or modern mourners seem to make a special trip to the famous fashion stores in town to indulge in the latest fashions mainly of the approved shades though to get in the mood to mourn (probably!) In short, they dress to kill!!

Too accustomed to the deadly issue people these days hardly wince at the news. Death seems too common an occurrence to the living (until of course it happens to them) Finally at the destination, the funeral house, the body lies in an expensive coffin(when it comes to posh ones) purchased from the biggest or most modern funeral parlours in town. (Mine, i insist be buried within twenty four hours - the Islamic way)

Cold and stiff, the body lies right in the centre of the hall, attracting attention more than a buxom lass does in her two piece, during the first twenty four hours. Some, in tears, even wail and break down every half hour. Helped by a friend or another not-so-close relation,(some of them have probably never seen the deceased when they were alive,) it looks as if they take turns to faint or give the lifeless body an occasional hug.

Eats are being served every time a new face appears. The body's worshipped every now and then by the new mourners who also take a moment to tell the family that `things could by worse' and relate a story about their pet parrot's demise.

Candles burn while the body rots... in silence. By the second day (sometimes to avoid days which are apparently considered unsuitable for burial or cremation) the body is somewhat ignored. Apart from the person who feels the loss the most, others have moved on already.

Surrounded by wreaths from the best of flower shops in town, the one in the coffin is the only one who seems (dead) silent. Now a shade of pale green due to the heavy embalm (with all due respect to all whose bodies were embalmed on various grounds, it seems a (fashionable) crime!) The others seem preoccupied catching up with old friends and relatives who could be met only during such occasions.

Contacts made, friendships renewed and `joker'is played. A mere occasion to boast, brag gossip and even crack jokes! followed by fits of laughter.

For a split second there you suspect if people have actually forgotten the nature of the affair even. Kids play ball and excuse me if you feel that I'm painfully right but some folks (mostly the not-so-posh-ones) even serve alcoholic beverage to keep it going...in short, the elders have a ball.

Most young and the young at heart even manage to find true love, at the expense of another one's death (first hand experience come in handy.)

Third day dawns with fresh hopes for tomorrow and the body's become a habit, part of the furniture. The wreaths have withered, candles have burnt out and people have forgotten.... that there's a body in the house! Except for the person who had to stay up the whole night of course!

The big day too finally dawns and some get ready to deliver a speech on behalf of the family members.

The many charismatic issues of the deceased. While some, talk at length of the countless good traits of the dead, making the living wonder if they're at the correct funeral. Finally the attention's back on the body which is now almost lost among a couple of dozen flower arrangements, sent by ones who are, deeply affected by the tragedy but couldn't be bothered to be physically available to sympathise with the family members.

And some, grief-striken to an extent of even seeking permission to come share the sorrow! Futility of life and of course death! and they say "everything's a joke till it happens to you!!"

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