Yesterday my grandmother died.I came to know at 5.00 pm in the evening. And we had to leave for our village. When we reached there it was 7.00 O'clock.It was a winter evening. So the atmosphere was very cold and quiet. It was hard to say that was it because of the death or cold ? The empire of death was there in the street.Every face was swollen because of crying. Everybody was preparing the final journey of the most beautiful gift of the almighty. It was very late when my grandmother's body had started the last journey on the shoulders of her children. For the children it was the worst journey of the life but for her it was the best because once they entered into this world from her womb and now she was leaving this world on their shoulders.
For her sons that was the longest walk of their lives. When four people lifted her bier, my aunties came out of the house and hold my grandmother very tightly and they were crying and saying that we would not allow you to go. But as she was a dead body and no matter how you love that person nobody wants to keep a dead body in his or her home. This is a bitter truth of life that once the relatives who don't want the person to die , after dying they only don't want to keep the person's body in the home means they want that person out of the house as early as possible because the God inside the body is not there anymore so the body is now useless. My aunties were detached by my uncles and the last journey of my grandmother started. As we were in the village, there was no light only torches were there. So we had to see in the moon light plus the light of the torch. It was dead quiet in the jungle. The sounds of birds and animals were an addition to the scenario. The trees in the darkness were looking like people as if the agents of death were waiting there for my grandmother.
The atmosphere was very horrific and fearful. We could listen the howls of hyenas and dogs not from a very distant place. Every shadow and every tree in the dark was looking like a devil. All the fears inside our brains were coming to life all around us. Everybody was walking very close to each other , it was hard to tell that the fear or the tragic event brought them together. We reached the place at 11 O'clock. It rained before two hours. So the atmosphere was extremely cold and shivering. A normal wave of wind was felt as a needle penetrated to our bones. We started to assemble the wood logs. But unfortunately the wood pieces and logs were at a distance of 100 meters. So we had to carry the logs on our shoulders in the dark and cold environment. It was difficult to handle the torch and wooden logs together so we had to walk all the way in the dark tumbling here and there. Finally we assembled enough wood to prepare the pyre. The pujari did some sort of rituals and then my eldest uncle gave fire to the pyre. And the wood started to burn. It was a strange feeling there standing and watching her being destroyed by the fire. But according to me the fire was creating a path from the Earth to the Heaven for her. The small sparkles of fire were hovering over the pyre as if the body was going to the beginning bit by bit. It was a very beautiful scene may be it was not a proper term over death but it was beautiful.
Because of the cold and light of the pyre nobody wanted to move away from the funeral pyre. The body started to burn and the final step of her life was there. According to hindu culture the soul lives there for 12 days and then goes to heaven or hell. So just for curiosity I started to look around but could not find anything. Then the fire was very high as if it wanted to touch the sky and it was now impossible to even stand near the pyre so everybody moved back. Before few hours nobody wanted to let her go and now nobody wanted to be with her as it was getting darker and colder every minute. So everybody decided to go home. For the whole life my grandmother served her family and raised her children very well and she was there with her children in every walk of life but in her last walk nobody was there with her. She had to cross that path on her own how strange ! As soon as the soul detached from the body the body which we nourish so much lost its importance. It becomes untouchable which for us the best thing in our lives. Every relation came to an end that night for her as her soul started the last journey. So the question is we should love our body or our soul ?
What should we trust the outer body or the inner part. So finally at 12.30 am the last song of my grandmother's life was being played but silently. There were no words no music but the song was there , but nobody could listen that song and I was trying. And I came to know the only truth of our lives and that is the DEATH. THE LAST SONG OF OUR LIFE.
