This is not a sequel to Scenes at the Funeral but nevertheless it follows.
Death is strange. And Painful – especially to those who are left behind.
I know this because I am an orphan and unlike Batman, I was more of Hindi movie poor guy – a hero who has nothing but has a girl and goes to cafes and eats well and wears clean clothes; but has the empathy of the audience, something like that.
But after death and before the family resumes business as usual, there is an event called Uthala, also called Rasam Pagdi. There are prayers and followed by a feast marking the end of the mourning period.
And depending upon the death and the life of the person – it could be a solemn affair, in case of a child or a young woman or celebratory – if the person lived a fulfilling life.
This person was an asshole. And as Lemmy from Motorhead once said – ‘If you are an asshole in life, you are asshole in death.’ I tend to agree. They say, ‘I am an agreeable type.’
But then you have traditions, which are like peer pressure from dead people.
And here we were celebrating death of an asshole.
The Granthi (Reader of the Holy Book/Bhai G) is conducting the ceremony.
The dead man was religious and rich. So, he has brought his A-Game. Shiny new clothes. Complete with ceremonial weapon – with a polished scabbard that shines – but I know the dagger is rusted.
If the man was into martial arts, he would not be so tumescent in the middle.
But the man is also an artist. He was a bona fide ventriloquist.
Talks about how we were all going to die – so pray.
Pray you may, but you would still die. It is just matter of time. We all owe a death to providence. The question is whether they’re going to have a good story to tell about you when you are gone.
In this case, there isn’t. Nevertheless Bhai G persisted.
He says that love for family is also futile. I am not sure the son would pay him now.
A man simply does not live a life of uttermost dedication towards his craft, and beats his wife and derides her each day, becomes a rich man, and puts her in aberrant estrangement – so much so when she is murdered in her own house, no one could hear her scream.
Bhai G is wrong; the man loved his family.
Eleven months hence, there would be Barsi, the first death anniversary, a solemn observance – where the nears and dears will come together and find peace by accepting’s God’s will and celebrate the life of the dead.
Shit Never Ends.
Suggested Reading – The Ritual