Ira Pandey
As I sit down to write this excerpt, scenes of a row of coffins with mutilated remains of the helicopter crash that took so many precious lives on TV in an endless loop. How can one not feel the grief of the families that have been devastated, even as they stand there with admirable chivalry and steadfast dignity? The armed forces live in constant terror of losing their loved ones on the battlefield or elsewhere in action, but this? An air crash that happened when he was least expected to be killed and a day that meant for a different occasion? This is what the bolt out of the blue should mean.
How to explain strange ways of fate to unhappy relatives? When so many old and mentally ill people pray for speedy release, why does death choose those who had so much to live and contribute? The answer lies in an old Jataka legend and still remains a mantra that is repeated when faced with such a situation. An old woman who had lost her only son, weeping and distraught, went to the Buddha and begged him to bring back her son. He looked at her with compassion and said, ‘Bring me a handful of grain from a house where death has not occurred, and I will do the same.’ His message was clear: no one escapes death; Some die quickly and some persist to a painful end, but in the end, we must all go.
Our rituals and rites often appear meaningless as the grieving family goes through a cycle of 13 days (for Hindus) or 40 days (for Muslims) of endless prayers and ceremonies. Yet, they are also a means of giving the grieving human heart the necessary pause that it needs to acknowledge the finality of a loss. When you go to a holy place to immerse the ashes of a loved one, you see others whose loss may be even greater. An old father who comes with the remains of his younger son, or a young child with the ashes of his parents – whose grief is greater, you ask yourself, and the answer is the same as the Buddha told that cry centuries ago. Gave it to mother.
Perhaps, it is a blessing that no one knows when the end will come. This is why the wise encourage to live your life as if tomorrow is your last day on earth and leave without any regrets. All this has been told to us by sages and seers, but when you cross a certain age, it is as a good rule, and something that one should strive to follow. Having said all this, I have to admit that there are many things that I promise to myself every night and forget immediately the next day. One of them is writing the passwords of all our devices to the other. Also, getting down to write the ATM password and will. I’ve tried to start giving away clothes and accessories I don’t need to hoard any more, but why I haven’t taken stock of my own relationships and responsibilities is a question I don’t like to answer. . Somewhere, I guess, we all think that doing so is inviting doom. Let’s face it, we’re all in denial about our own mortality. This is a truth that no one can deny.
Some couples I know have been lucky enough to move in together – General Bipin Rawat and his wife were a rare exception. Most of us will outdo our peers and although I often threaten my family about how they will miss me, I shudder at the thought of what they will do when I am not there. On a lighter note, my husband would sleep until noon without waking up on his bedroom and drinking tea. The kitchen would become a mess and all my pots and utensils would get dirty and I never cleaned them the way I like. Domestic workers will get lazy and take leave without any notice… the list is long and frightening. But then, I say to myself, if I’m not there, what does it matter to me? If the family is happy sleeping without beds, drinking endless cups of tea and coffee and eating unhealthy foods, let them deal with the consequences.
But what will they do with my precious pashmina shawl and kanjeevaram silk? Or to those beautiful bedsheets and table linens that I bought like magpies from abroad and squirrelled to use on a special day, but never did? Is, is, as they say in the Punjab, what a terrible idea that they will never wash these precious things, but will ruin the washerman? I’m sure all old ladies think the same way and even now, whenever I break a house rule made by my mom or mother-in-law, I look over my shoulder to see if they’re around and watching. Huh.
The truth is that our parents and habits never go away, they are always in us and then in our children and grandchildren. With this consolation, I will forget to write a will this week and put off all such strange lists for another day.