T H E F U N E R A L
The inspiration for this short story came from one real-life news published on Times of India. The link can be found below. Apart from what could be found over the link, the rest is the result of my own imagination.
The narrative is not written to hurt the feelings of anyone or any community.
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Radhika was just 7 and Meera was only 4 when their father Vishal Bhai passed away.
What followed was an absolute mayhem; it was a struggle to survive, a struggle to be alive. There were no means of living. Vishal Bhai left behind nothing but a one room pigeonhole in Ahmedabad, apart from the two little toddlers and their mother Jashodaben. With virtually no savings left, the rent for the small jewelry shop owned by him could not be repaid, so the shop was gone – not as if it was making huge profits anyway. The household items too started disappearing. The jewelries of Jashodaben, were sold to the nearby shops in exchange of meagre amount of money. Some domestic items were pawned to the bloodthirsty moneylenders with high rate of interest and they never came back to the owner.
Jashodaben, with her level of education (or the absence of it) could not manage to secure any job apart from being a daytime maid around the local neighborhood. Making both ends meet seemed to be a distant dream, but she worked too hard as a maid-cum-babysitter. She looked after her two precious jewels with an iron determination. The harsh reality of life could not erase the smiles from her face; instead the family bonding grew stronger and stronger.
With her dedication and warm manners, she won over many hearts and many spontaneous helps poured in. Saving each and every penny she could, she even managed to send her two girls to the local school and finally to a renowned college. And when both of them graduated with flying colors, she could not resist the tears from her eyes.
Radhika had already landed herself on a Government job while Meera had just joined a private farm. Their mother did not need to work now. The small family could even manage to shift to a rented two-bedroom flat nearby and they could indulge in a few luxuries like a TV and mobile phones for all. The apartment looked too full, more with contentment and peace than materialistic possessions.
The only thing that bothered Jashodaben was the thought of the marriages of her two girls. She was very anxious to get them married soon. But on the other hand she was worried about her solitude that would certainly follow, and she was not keeping well nowadays – the struggle and the hardship had started taking their toll on her health.
There were a few prospective marriage proposals for Radhika. But she was not ready to leave her mother and sister. Meera, as the strongest-willed of the three, got into the act of some serious persuasion and eventually her younger sister had to give in.
It was all settled. The marriage dates were finalized. Meera literally worked day in and day out and meticulously oversaw every arrangement to have everything in order.
On the wedding day, JashodaBen was so happy that everyone said she seemed to be dancing in joy, as the way she was moving. She really seemed exuberant; it was one of the very rare auspicious moments for the whole family in years.
All said and done, everything was smoothly accomplished. Radhika left her home and the two ladies, and it was that moment when her mother could not hold her tears back. Even Meera was wiping her eyes off.
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A new phase of life began for the two. Since Radhika has left, certain emptiness engulfed the home, especially over Jashodaben’s mind. Meera realized that her mother couldn’t be left alone. She tried to keep her occupied into many household activities but to no avail. Radhika kept on visiting on every alternate weekends but Jashodaben gradually became gloomier with every passing day.
Meera knew why. With Radhika’s absence, her mother had realized that one day, her younger daughter too, would get married and get busy in her new life and she would be left all alone in this whole world.
Meera was too engrossed in thoughts. How could she really leave her mother? She still remembered the days when she was just a tot and her father was taken away. Since then her world revolves around her mother and sister. She could not even remember her father. But she still remembered how her mother stayed hungry after a long and hard-fought day, feeding them. She still remembered how her mother raised them against all odds. She still remembered how her mother sacrificed her every happiness and belongings to make sure they go to school. Could she be so selfish by just getting married and concentrating on her own life?? She could never do that. She could never leave her mother alone. Even if this meant not getting married, let it be. Her mother had sacrificed so much, could she not return the favor now?
So she never raised the topic of her marriage. She decided to make her mother feel special for the rest of her life and fulfill all her wishes. All she wanted was to be with her mother and keep her happy.
Over the next few months, Meera was always by her side. She took her mother to visit the places where she always wanted to be but never could. She cooked her favorite dishes, she read her bedtime stories, she was readying the bed – seemingly the roles of the mother and the daughter were completely reversed.
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Three years have passed since Radhika got married. Meanwhile, Radhika was blessed with a baby boy and she kept visiting them regularly with her new bundle of joy. With her grandson and under Meera’s watchful companionship, it seemed that Jashodaben has recovered from the mental agony and she was almost at her usual self.
One day, Meera was late from her work. She saw her mother sitting in the living room with a pile of newspapers and photographs in front of her.
“Meera, sit here. I want to discuss something very important with you.” She announced.
“What is it, Ma?” Meera was not sure what her mother was up to. She should have guessed though.
“See, I have been working on your marriage for quite some time now. I didn’t tell you because I felt it wasn’t the right time. I have shortlisted a few potential matches for you with the help of a local matchmaker. Here are the photographs. Please select one.” She said authoritatively.
“Ma, I don’t want to get married. Please don’t waste your time and effort.” She began to worry about how her mother would react to it.
“But why?” Her voice was a little louder this time. “You are a woman, you have to get married. Who would look after you once I am gone? You know I am not keeping well. I am worried about you.” She explained.
“Ma, who would look after you once I am married and not around?”
“I will be fine. Don’t worry about me. Just like your sister keeps visiting me, you would do the same. And don’t argue with me anymore. You have to get married, that’s my final decision.” Jashodaben was visibly irate.
“So she has decided everything”, Meera thought. “Ma, I don’t want to get married. I want to be with you. You know how stubborn I could be, so please don’t force me. Leave this topic altogether. I promise I would let you know if once I feel like getting married. Just because I am not your son, I don’t have the right to stay with you.” Without adding anything further, she left for the bedroom to change.
Over the next few days and weeks and months, Jashodaben tried to convince Meera with the so-called ‘benefits’ of marriage, but Meera did not give in. In fact, she was not ready to listen at all. Eventually Jashodaben had to let it go.
“Ok, do whatever you want to. I have no value in this house. No one even bothers to listen to me.” she shouted at Meera. Apparently she was too frustrated and irritated, but deep inside she might have been relieved as well, knowing that her daughter would be with her always.
Life went on, so did the tide on Sabarmati.
Meera and her mother stayed together for twenty long years.
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One evening, Radhika, in her early fifties now, visited them as per her age-old custom. She would also stay for the night. All three of them were sitting together in the bedroom. Jashodaben was reminiscing about her marriage and all other things which both her daughters might perhaps have heard a hundred times before.
Suddenly, without any context, she mumbled out. “You know, I always wanted a son. But today I can confess that a son could not have done more than what you did. I never even have felt that I do not have a son. You both are too precious to me. I can now leave in peace.” Her vision got blurred by the tiny droplets of tears.
Radhika could not hold back her tears as well. Meera, 49 now, was as calm as she always used to be. Even she was too moved by the words, she knew her mother meant every single of them from the bottom of her heart.
“Ma, you know what. Since our childhood, whenever we saw or met the father of any our friends, we also secretly longed for a father. But we really never needed one, as you were always there. You had been our mother, you had been our father and you had been our everything.” The words came out spontaneously from Meera.
The three ladies wept together. It was an emotional moment for all of them.
That night, Jashodaben, passed away in her sleep. She was 76.
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It was Meera who found it out in the next morning.
Neither she cried nor did she sob. Her mother looked too peaceful in her sleep, unmistakably she was gone without any pain. Meera just sat beside her mother holding her hand, still like a statue. Emotions were rapidly flowing from one to another and she did not recollect how long she had sat there. She didn’t even notice when her sister came into the room.
The silence was broken by a piercing noise. Radhika had gone in a fit of sobbing. Meera had come back to her senses.
“Didi, please don’t cry. See how peacefully she is sleeping. She was in so much peace while she was gone. We have to respect that.” She tried to soothe her elder sister.
Radhika, somewhat managed to calm herself down momentarily. But she was apparently still shaken.
“N -Now what? I can’t believe she is no more…. I can’t even think what to do now. There is no one around…..Oh God!…Ma..” Her voice choked.
“We have to inform the relatives and friends and arrange for the funeral. But before that, I wanted to tell you something.” Meera’s voice was too steady for such an emotional moment.
“Wh-what??” She was still stuttering.
“I want us to light her pyre and carry her bier.”
“What??? Have you gone completely insane? I can’t believe this. These are not the rites that daughters can carry out. It’s prohibited in our religion and society…and….and…” She was in utter shock and disbelief.
“Didi, we were her sons and daughters and everything. You also heard her yesterday. This would be our final send-off to her. You call everyone and leave this on me”. Meera had already chalked out her next course of action.
“I can not support you, sorry. You would get us in trouble.” She was adamant.
“Didi, if you don’t want to do it, please don’t. I will do it alone. Just call everyone. ” Meera was too firm and Radhika knew very well she could not win an argument with her sister.
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Jashodaben was sleeping. Her bier was prepared. She was covered with a milky-white piece of silken cloth. Her face was decorated with flowers and ornaments. She still looked too peaceful. She was ready for her final journey.
The two bedroom apartment was crowded by the relatives, neighbors and other acquaintances. The rooms were full of people – Jashodaben was loved by many.
“I need four men. We have to carry the bier to the burning ghat.” The priest announced.
“Not four, three. I would also carry the bier”. Meera came forward.
There was a complete pin-drop silence in the room. Everybody was petrified. Nobody moved. Surprise and shock were the theme.
“I would also light the fire at her pyre.” She added, as matter-of-factly.
“I am afraid I cannot allow this. This is not permitted in our religion. These are the rites of a son. And as your mother didn’t have a son, some close male relative can do it, like her grandson”. The elderly priest was shaking his head vehemently, so were many from the gathering. Even Radhika was still in a shock at the guts of her only sibling.
“I am not asking for permission. Even if I have to carry her all by myself, I will do so. She loved me more than she could have ever loved a son. I know she would have wanted me to do it. And I am also her child. Just because of a silly outdated ritual, I don’t want to disobey her last wish. If it is a sin, it will be all mine. Those who don’t want to witness and share my sin, you can very well leave. Nobody can stop me.” Meera took one step forward, as if she was ready to bend over to carry the bier.
“Ok, fine. If you would like to carry on, it’s your wish. But I will not commit such a grave sin. And those who would witness this evil episode and help you, would burn in hell.” The priest cursed and left. Many people followed him. After all, who would want to burn in hell?
Some people stayed, either because they were supportive of Meera or may be simply to enjoy the fun.
“Can I have any three of you? It doesn’t matter to me whether you are male or female.” Meera threw the request to the crowd, hoping someone would assist her.
“I will go with you”. Meera was surprised and she was too happy to see her 21 year old nephew had it in him to stand against the tide.
“So will I.” It was Meera’s brother-in-law, Radhika’s husband. He was always very progressive.
“And me too.” The fourth one was one of the neighbors.
So the four of them carried the bier and went outside. Meera was at the front, with Radhika following her. It seemed everybody around the locality had gathered at both sides of the road, through which they were transiting. It was really not an everyday scene where you see a woman carrying her mother’s bier. There were people cursing at Meera for such outrageous act of disgrace. But she chose to ignore them. What else could she do anyway?
After a while, they reached at the entrance of the burning ghat. When they entered the premises of the crematorium, a group of priests surrounded them. They did not seem to be too welcoming. Obviously the news had flown to every nook and corner of the locality
“Go back or find another ghat. We will not allow such grave mistake to be committed here.” A commotion was about to start.
“Please allow us. She just has carried the bier but she is not going light the pyre. It will be the grandson of the deceased. Whatever mistakes have been committed, we would make the necessary atonement”. To Meera’s absolute astonishment, before she could respond, Radhika pleaded. She reassuringly gestured to her younger sister to stay taciturn.
The group of priests certainly was not expecting this. They stared at each other’s faces. Finally they decided to allow them to pass. All the sins will be atoned, anyway.
“Make sure you feed 100 brahmins and donate something in the nearby temple.” One of them shouted from behind.
Meera was relieved. Radhika smiled at her, faintly.
The sandalwood pyre, drenched in ghee, was meticulously prepared by Meera and her nephew.
Meera took out a fire. Meera’s hands were shaking. This was the moment for which she fought all the way. This was the moment for which she was ready go to any length. That moment had come but she still couldn’t believe what she was going to do. She was already too drained out.
“Let’s do it together”. Radhika outstretched her right hand to her sister.
The lit the pyre, together.
They saw the pyre burning ferociously. The fire touched the blue azure.
Inside, they were burning too.
Finally, under the setting sun, they floated the remains of Jashodaben on Sabarmati.
Meera was weeping relentlessly, finally.
She knelt down, looking above.
“We did it Ma, we did it.”
|| T H E E N D ||
