Rituals and unsolicited advice that follow a loved ones demise are hardly comforting. You know that losing a loved one is difficult. Even with forewarning,it hurts like a severed limb. But since death is a non-negotiable truth,you force your heart to deal with it. Hoping that one day it will turn into acceptance. And the pain will shift from sharp and intense to dull and niggling. But nothing prepares you for the days following the funeral. Or the people who arrive to pay their respects. I am still reeling from the shock. Last month,my family suffered a final loss. To cope,my mind went into a state of complete numbness perhaps due to some instinct for survival. Since the person who passed away was someone I had learnt all of my lifes lessons from,I promised myself I would do her proud. My conduct was going to be dignified,my anguish extremely private. But Indian convention,it seems,doesnt encourage solemnity. If you dont beat your breast,you arent officially mourning. The absence of wailing and screaming implies that you never loved the person who passed away. So,as I stood at the sidelines,with my heart breaking,I realised I was under severe scrutiny. When I didnt cry each time I was hugged,I could see eyebrows lifting. And when I didnt hurl myself as the body lay in state,I could see judgement being passed. Finally,I overheard a charming old aunt say: We always knew she was cold-hearted isnt she the one who doesnt live at home? I understand that the longevity of Indian rites and rituals implies an inherent practicality but there is nothing more flawed,nor more ruthless than the actual practice. While everyone who showed up at the funeral shared genuine grief,they quickly settled into the role of a wicked saas straight out of a television serial demanding endless cups of tea,meddling with arrangements and commenting on our conduct. With the evolution of the nuclear family,religious ceremonies have become a personal affair. For example,we dont follow the four-day/13-day final service. Our family is more relaxed when a prayer is taking place at home. For instance,we dont feel we need to check up constantly on the priests during an akhand path. May be these changes are borne out of practicality but at no point do they show disrespect. Lets look at the no-cooking rule that is enforced during the mourning period. The first person to walk in will sombrely announce choolah nahi chalega. Why is it applicable now? In the old times,it was a serious burden for the women in the house to cook for all the extra guests,which is not the case now. It is bad enough to be miserable,so why must you be forced to eat other peoples lousy food? There is a reason the food from your childhood is called comfort food and at a time like this,if you dont have access to it,it just seems wrong. After the mourning and grieving,you have to listen to advice doled out by all and sundry. It is so ruthlessly rude,except from those who have suffered a similar loss. They are the good guys because,once all this is over,they are the people you turn to for advice because of their experience. My pet peeve are those who tell you it is time to move on,right after the funeral. Really? If my leg had just been amputated,would you ask me as I recover from anaesthesia to run a marathon? I think not. But the worst are those who make the passing about themselves. They fill a room with their grief,leaving no space for anyone elses feelings. The person who jolted me out of my misery was a distant relative. Her commiseration offered a most peculiar logic. She told me not to be sad because we were all going to die of a painful cancer. The kind I had witnessed first hand for eight long years. I started to giggle. tothemannerborn@expressindia.com
