The place
smelt of burnt wood and ashes, there were trees everywhere and way too many
crows. The ground was damp with rain and
scattered with leaves and twigs. A never ending silence enveloped the place
broken only by the cry of a crow or human.
It was
peaceful yes, but with a certain unpleasantness that did not quite make it
peaceful.
As we
approached the parking lot the first person we came across had an earthen pot
covered with a white cloth in his hand. You might take a guess at what was in
the pot. But once you know where we were standing you won’t need a guess.
The pot had
ashes, ashes of a burnt human body, a dead body.
And we were
standing in a Hindu Crematorium.
And what
took us there, an assignment. To improve our observation skills two of our
teachers decided to divide the class in pairs of two and each team was sent to
different places for observation.
My teammate
and I got the queerest one, a crematorium. A place where we had no reason to be
and where it could be considered rude to poke around just like that.
But there we
were, confused and out of place and wondering how and why we got here. Where do
we look and what do we observe in a place where the dead are sent on their
final journey. As we went ahead we saw that unlike the Hindi movies where the
dead bodies are always cremated in an open ground and the mourners are always
in white, this place had neither the open space nor people clad in white.
It was like a place specially built for this
purpose, the whole process of cremation itself was institutionalized. There were long, high sheds that had chambers to place the dead in,
pile it up with wood and then burn it. The workers were busy preparing for a
funeral or cleaning up after one. Their duties were mundane, their job
saddening but the complete absence of emotion and their immunity towards it was
startling.
And you
can’t even blame them for that attitude. For us as first time spectators there
was a lot to feel for but for them this is their income. Dead bodies, ashes,
shaved heads and swollen eyes they’ve seen enough to not feel anymore.
Barely ten
minutes in the place and a procession of people walked in. Six people ahead
were carrying a dead body heavily laden with flowers. We could see the feet of
the body, it was a man. A troop of fifty or so people followed them. Only a
handful was in white.
I looked at
my own clothes, too bright for a place like this.
Death, I suppose,
numbs the heart and head to not be able rationalize for a while. In white or
not they had come their heads bowed and eyes uncertain.
Surprisingly
enough there were not many tears or howls. The ones who performed the last
rites looked too shaken to show much emotion. I guess the idea of comprehending
with a death takes time to sink in.
One of the
workers was busy preparing for the cremation. The pundit who had come with the
procession was reciting mantras. The flowers that had been all over the body
were thrown away unceremoniously and lay there discarded. The last rites were performed and the
flame grew higher.
We watched
standing away from the crowd who had now lost interest in the funeral and were
giving us stealthy glances wondering if we were reporters or artists.
I stood
looking mesmerized not by any beauty but by the fact of life. That person
might’ve meant so much to so many people. Hours before his death he had a name
to be called with but now he was only a dead body.
The flames
grew higher and the crows were swarming in at the dead. We looked away and did
not say much on our way back to the parking lot.
There were
some people who were feeding the crows with some kind of dish. It is said that
if the crow eats the dish then the dead person’s wishes have been fulfilled.
These people were all in white and teary eyed. It had sunk in.
Death, the
word itself has so much certainty. It’s final, decided and inevitable. You
can’t run away from it and nothing can help you do that. When questioned in
class about what my experience was like, I had no way of describing it.
It was
peaceful like death should be but it was eerie like the idea of death is.
