Death and Beyond





“For the last time, stay still. Do not speak, blink or even breath. And most importantly stop searching for the source of my sound you nincompoop! Make me repeat once more and you can say goodbye to your already slim shot at heaven.” the voice said. I am a religious man and those words were not august enough to be from my god. Perhaps it is the other fellow. The one on the buffalo. Well, I am dead, so I might as well act the part. Heaven did he say? Huh! My own words “I fear that the day Science disprove life beyond death would coincide with the day humans bid adieu to humanity” seems irrelevant with this new found information. To be honest, and I have got to be honest with myself at least now, I do not think anyone else besides myself found it relevant even back when I wrote it. I wonder what heaven would be like. I have a clear idea of hell. The burning oil, thorns and the other paraphernalia for torture. Parvathy had a different idea of hell though. Her hell would be filled with inconveniences at every turn. The mental trauma would be way more catastrophic than the puny damage physical torture entail. “Imagine if, with your case of severe irritable bowel syndrome, you had to travel early morning on a train, the toilet of which seems more like a history lesson, everyday, for an eternity” she used to say, and I agree. I would rather jump in a burning pan of oil. Anyway I wonder why we discuss hell in detail while heaven remains an obscure concept? Is it because we believe fear to be a greater motivator than ambition? Or is it because, deep down, we all know the ultimate destination we deserve?

The vehicle has stopped. I guess it is time to enter my home for one last time. I sneak a glance and I can see my son in law at my feet, sweating, more under the pressure of performing than the weather. American born, American raised and blond, the chap was overwhelmed by the barrage of instructions he was receiving for the simple task of lifting someone up. And in they carry me. Wait. Why are they carrying me out again? “The sun is on this side, so that must be north”, I hear someone say. Buffoons! What would have happened if I had died at night? “Place the body facing north”, another ambiguous instruction. And just as I thought. Thomas is turning so that my head would be towards the south so that I would be facing north. “No the other way” more instructions. I can see Thomas turning red. I would have dropped me in frustration if I was in his shoes. Someone asks Thomas to tie my legs together and the fellow is about to tie them up as if he kidnapped me. Another set of hands take over the responsibility of my legs. That must be my daughter. The touch is delicate as if not to hurt me and my toes are finally tied together. That was the last decoration. I am now ready for exhibition. 

From the decibel level quite a few people seem to have gathered to pay their last respects. Some probably paying it for the first time. If only the ignorami who had placed me tilted my head slightly to the left, I could have had a better glance at my guests. Maybe I can sneak a peek at the faces as they kneel down. But the faces are obstructed by my damn toes. I also sense a preference among my respectees, and that should be a word, to kneel down at skewed angles instead of head on. I do see a couple of hands though. They come down quick to touch the ground and go up back faster than they came down. Busy souls, no doubt. As an inquisitive man, I cannot leave my urge to identify my visitors unsatiated. I will have to recognise the people from their feet, a task normal people would shy away from. “Tis impossible” I imagine they would exclaim. But I am an observant man and more importantly dead bored, literally. From the number of times I saw the feet come and go and the amount of time the feet spend around me I can deduce how close their owners were to me. The rest is easy. Let’s see. Those fair ones for example. The ones that appear squeaky clean yet give a sense that smell. That must be Rahul. How the bloody bugger survived longer than me should boggle any sane mind. There is no vice he has stayed away from and no sin he has not indulged in. Oh and his ability to invite trouble where there was no avenue for any! Legendary. If it weren’t for him I would probably never had a fist fight in my life. Come to think of it, if it weren’t for him there would not have been many firsts in my life.

I am guessing those belong to Pramod. It has been coming in and going out all day, no doubt getting the arrangements ready. He was managing my funeral as if it was his own. There. That is my final joke at his expense. Has he not been present at any of the important moments in my life barring my birth? And the good friend that I am, how do I reciprocate? I manage to be absent at all of his. Well, he never complained and I never apologised. So I guess we are even. At least in his head we are always even.

Those giant ones that has been standing on the corner all day. Those must belong to Harish. The tallest man I have known on a personal level and he vouches that I am the shortest man he has had the courage to befriend. What was that he used to say about short people? Yes. We are so insecure about our height that we overcompensate with unwarranted aggression. The two of us can finally lay down the burden of the many mutual secrets we shielded from the outside world with utmost diligence. There were so many moments where weaker men would have buckled under the pressure, panicked and spilled the beans. We did not. He has been a pillar to me and I have been his, well, walking stick maybe?   

Would I be able to identify any of my long lost romantic interests among all these busy legs? And that would be my final joke at my own expense in this life. All the afore mentioned interests managed to be long gone by the time I had the courage to embark on that perilous endeavour, didn’t they? They were all far away and ignorant and I am somehow happy at their ignorance. All but Parvathy. The only person who could look at even my present, debilitated state, and sincerely comment “All those workouts seem to be finally paying off”. Wait. I think that comment probably belongs more to the sarcastic blighter that I am than the genuine soul Parvati was. Anyway, I cannot take the credit for Parvathy all by myself can I? I had an entire institution to support me. The only reason I turned religious was so that I could thank god for founding the institution of arranged marriages, the life support on which many a lineage, including mine, has managed to survive. Parvathy is the reason I do not die a remorseful man. “If you are happy today and the whole idea of a greater purpose is to make you happy, then haven’t you already served the purpose?” she asked whenever I rued the lack of direction in my life. 

Parvathy managed to beat me to the finish line in the race of life as she always wished. Her farewell was, and rightfully so, a well attended function. Was it immediately after her demise that I wrote the poem regarding my contemplations on my death and the attached formalities?

                                                   “ There shan’t be many, only a select few,

No grand farewell, only a humble adieu.

Perhaps a close friend,

Maybe a hungry vagrant.

I am now ready, come light my pyre,

Anyone but that blighted Mr Nair.

No remorse, no regrets, only a pending wish,

Never tasted an amuse bouche, if there is such a dish.


The last few lines may have been added later under the compulsion of a severe bout of hunger. I have to say, the turnout today far exceeded my expectation and my gratitude goes out to all the attendees. I sense someone leaning over me as if to get a final long look at me. I assume it is my daughter. Who else would want to stare at a dead body? The sounds are becoming muffled. In fact all my senses seem to be numbing. This must be it. I begin my slow drift towards heaven and the unknown and strange worlds beyond.


My senses are coming back. I open my eyes, but my vision is vague. I can make out the silhouettes of two individuals leaning over me making weird noises. The smell reminds me of the hospital ward. Wait, this cannot be. “Sorry my man. We had an unusual number of deaths yesterday, some even bamboozling me. Under such a circumstance we cannot accommodate you at the moment. Kindly wait another lifetime and we shall find something for you by then” the sound whispered. “Not again. Come on. NO!” I scream, but an infant’s cry come out!!

 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        




                                                                                        





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