Saturday, March 26, 2011

The First Funeral

A strange subject to choose. And why would I choose it, I don’t know. Have just visited the first funeral, cremation of my life. May be that could be the reason?. May be, I am actually indifferent, trying to kill time, thinking about it. Coz, in all aspect, I don’t really think, I knew this man. He was to me, I guess an elderly gentleman at office, that’s what I would think of him. An acquaintance, so to say, who, I believe, was never selfish with me, rather, quite mannered and I know, with kind wellbeing at heart. Not that this is to create melodrama about it. But I guess, it was at his funeral pyre, when people who knew him, look at him in hindsight, every one sounded quite genuine, about his good nature.
Well, to get on with business, this gentleman was a colleague, in his 45’s I suppose, who would I guess, go out with a cup of tea in this hand, with no qualms whatsoever approach a new guy, exchange niceties and have introductions exchanged, and then get on to do doing his job. And every one admitted till date, that he was diligent like none other and may be a little too much. And I guess, he served our organization for more than 15 or may be more years. Leading a very disciplined life, both professional and personal.
As for mine and his exchanges, mostly I remember, me and my colleague returning after smoking, through the corridors, and he would meet us and without fail, smile and frequently tell us to quit smoking. At the lunch table, everyone would pull his legs, coz of his discipline, chastity, regularity, abstinence from all the vices of smoking, drinking and non-vegetarianism all through his life- till date. And he would smile and smile, and occasionally try to fight back. But never I found him loose his soft spoken composure.
It was today, I came to know, from the fellow colleague, who since his last two years of stint in Mumbai, has being coming along with his sir , Dhaval Bhai. Regularly, he would pick him up from their fixed meeting point and drive down to office. So, I was told, Dhaval bhai, would carry Parle G packets, or may be something else, and at signals, give it out to children. Once in a while, he would carry little fodder and feed the calves near the turning of his building.
As for leading a personal life, it was only today that I was told that his schedule included, getting up early morning 5 o clock, do yoga and meditation. For 10 days in a year, he would go to Mount Abu and attend some meditation course. In today’s day, many of my age might be tempted to mock at it, but in my opinion he considered this as a part of his disciplined life, as if with complete confidence in right things to do.
Well, to me, it all today seemed like a listening to stories of Parsi Bawaji in hay days of Mumbai, who are fanatically regular about the morning tea and bun and the news paper and firm believers in a decorm and order of life. Almost, picture perfect.
Well, Dhaval bhai, died in his sleep in the morning. It was a heart stroke, he didn’t cry, and there was no one around him in his final moment. He had attended, a conference call yesterday till 7, went home, had dinner and went to sleep. He was not found awake till morning 7-8 , till his brother a little concerned with the irregularity, went to his room and found him at rest- forever.

They declared it was stress related heart failure.
By the way, I didn’t mention, he was never married and had chosen to stay bachelor. Sometimes, at his bachelor hood, people would pull his leg , in off course good humor at lunch table. His parents had expired long back. He was not survived by any immediate family , just three brothers. It felt quite sad, that he actually didn’t have many people around him, one might say thats “good” in a way that one would not have to be burdened with worries about family. But I guess, dying alone with no one at funeral , seemed a little sad also.
For his term in company he had many good stalwarts. One person, on his retirement age, who sits next to him, our favorite Parsi sir, stood tall, in his French beard, a little stooped, and I remember him telling out, “ Brilliant death for a wrong age” . By the time, the cremation stopped, I was pretty much silenced by the cremation of a body with such strong flame going to ashes. Then our sir said, “ Chalo, its all over”.
It was quite shocking news in the morning when I had entered office. Within 12 hours I suppose, one person , an identity just went to oblivion- whatever one might call it, dust to dust , ashes to ashes, but in the end just evaporated.
As for me, I just wrote it coz I felt like writing it. Life and death are always mystifying, will remain so, as long as we are human.
P.S : Pray he rests in peace.

1 comment:

Panduram Ganpathrao Dhule said...

Sad to hear that.

It's like I just read my own Obituary...lol

How do you do Merry Prankster? :)