Musings:

Obituaries-storehouses of sociological matter

by Padma Edirisinghe

"The procession of the DEAD" was the title I had once used for a piece of mine. Was it cheered? No. On the contrary it created a furore on the premise that it was not in good taste. Since everybody seems ready to flex muscles for any cause at that time just as in these volatile days I closed up the matter tactfully closing doors on jurisdiction.

This time the catalyst for the topic came from a friend of mine, a lady about to hit a century of life, if that feat is also not considered as in bad taste. Said she: Do you know why I buy the daily papers? It is to find out how many of my acquaintances have passed away".

Gerontology

Gods! Do they pass away in such a multitude? It needs no advanced study in gerontology to realize that the 70s and the 80s the two decades when many of the older species make their exit. The tragedy occurs due to a fatal assembly of many factors as succumbing to disease, accidents, action of genes and bizarre tragedies such as suicides and homicides and addiction to life destroying matter.

Once a friend suggested that we do a survey to find out how many of the batch that entered the University in the 1950 decade are still living. The choice of the decade is accidental though it included the year 1955 when many lasses (not necessarily U/entrants) almost had a bizarre adventure with death after drinking Vada Kaha Sudiya, a concoction recommended by a physician to end up Miss Sri Lanka. The above survey however, was never carried out but was it executed, it would have led to some interesting facts. Interesting? Not for the dead but for the living.

Anyway, no general conclusions can be laid out in this sphere for having been under the portals of a University or held a high post is no reason for humans to avoid dying suddenly for some reason or the other. Take the case of the retired Prison Commissioner. Family saw to that he stopped smoking and even instructed the boy in the house not to buy him the narcotic stuff. But he sneaked away one night to a roadside boutique just to do that and was run over and killed by a passing vehicle. So that teaches us that death comes to us like a horrid thief.

Nickname

While I was working in the Ministry of education, I made use of a circuit to Galle, to make a visit to a dear pal in the campus now a head of a girls' school in Galle, according to Ministry particulars.

When I entered her office a stranger was seated at the head table. I was told by her that "Queen of Tonga" I was looking for, was dead some months back. That was the nickname she had earned in the campus due to her huge size.Cause of death - difficulties in childbirth. That leaves out the men. No man, graduated or not is going to die at delivery simply because they do not deliver the most precious of worldly gifts, though they go about delivering a whole host of other things. But the males, being more mobile can die of various other factors and even go on to court various other medium to end dear life.

Early death

Dayananda Goonewardena, or Jubal as he was popularly called probably died of overwork after his University career since he got almost inextricably involved with the world of drama. Recently perusing through Ananda Javanika, a work of his I reflected sadly on the amount of talent that Lanka lost by his early death. In that work, he had capsuled almost all features of the particular epochs of Lanka's history.

Some of these deaths almost go unnoticed for the newspaper is the chief medium of publicity. That is the average man's publicity for which the relatives of the deceased have to pay. If the dead man or woman has gained some publicity the media takes on the onus. Usually, even here those who have dabbled in the aesthetic field are given priority.

Say, a director of education passes away, the death hardly comes on the front page of a newspaper or never relayed over the TV. The comparative media silence over the death of Mahinda Ranaweera, who did much for science education in the island is an example.

Aspect

Silence seems to have prevailed on the recent passing away of a well known educationalist who coming from the upcountry wilds did much for the country in his post as Secretary of education.

Now we come to the sociological aspect of obituaries themselves that provide interesting material. I mentioned my friend who buys newspapers for the sake of reading obituaries. She of course does it to tabulate the number of those of her friends who have passed away. She certainly misses many. Not all have their deaths publicized. This activity too costs money and also interest by those near and dear. To make matters more onerous even death certificates have to be produced prior to publication.

This rule however came long after the publication of the death of Mr. D.E.M.O.Cracy, father of Liberty, Fraternity and so on! That is a hilarious story in itself.

The length and breadth of the obituary and the details given themselves mirror the social and economic conditions of the family involved. Even some social trends are reflected. For example, many upcountry families of traditional descent seem to migrate to Colombo and its suburbs on approaching death, Walauwas forgotten. It's clear as to who has initiated the migration. It is their next generation for whom Colombo seems an Eldorado.

Matter

It can be rather a morbid or sociological game to count with the aid of the obituaries how many families have done their own diaspora to foreign lands. Usually the migrants' "Mecca" is Australia. Australia initially threw open her doors to the Burghers of Sri Lanka as they found some bonds but a good part of them as Deloraine Brohier with her intensive love for Lanka are here in the blessed island still looking after her dear father's library while the sons and daughters of our Appuhamys and Singhos have taken abode there with pride. The obituaries in turn give details. Anyway no offense towards Appuhamys, a highly respected patronymic name while the Singhos are affiliated to the Signors of Spain.

Coming back, obituaries have become storehouses of much sociological matter. The intermix of various races by marriages is revealed here while not only the external migrations but even the internal migrations one can glean through, that is however till one's own death that can take place at any time, any moment.

Have I forgotten someone who rises above all this? Yes. It is the Buddha who intoned that Life is nothing but a dew on a blade of grass. Here now, gone the next moment, including the writer. In that context the printed stuff of obituaries that mostly present a telltale of family glory is of the most minute value.