Immersing Dad’s ashes!
I asked mum if she minded me immersing Dad’s ashes in the Godavari at Nasik.* She didn’t look surprised. Simply said of course you must! I’m sure this is what he would like from you. It is your dharma.*
The next morning we (Dad & me) bid the Mother Mary grotto next to our apartment farewell for the last time seeking her blessings and packed off to Nasik in two cars with dad sitting next to me in a small earthen pot wrapped in a crisp red cotton cloth।
Dad was the true-blue Patriarch as Patriarchs are meant to be. One who boomed commands! One whom everyone loved & consulted! One who brought two feuding relatives together! One who came to the rescue of his poor relatives. One who instilled in me the value of the human spirit & the significance of relationships!
His demise has made me seek answers from within. My mind wanders aimlessly into the busiest of streets & the narrowest of alleys. Being strong is getting a bit tiring. And yet one look at Ma makes the resolve stronger.
She’s been a toughie too. Forty-three years of togetherness has seen all seasons of life. Their relationship was like an estuary that accepts both, the river as well as the sea in its folds. She seeks him in his face towel. Whenever the dull ache becomes relentless….she pulls out the face towel from its hiding & wipes her face with it. His lingering smell is her comfort.
Adhesive sentiments are making us hold on to a smell….a letter….a book…a memory! Such is the immense love that we feel around us. It’s as if Dad has enveloped my brother & me in his wisdom of togetherness. We are suddenly closer looking out for each other. I wonder what makes people fight over money when they lose their loved ones. The priceless gets under valued perhaps.
* In the Hindu religion, rituals like lighting the funeral pyre & later immersing the departed soul’s ashes in the holy river is done by the husband, son or any other male member of the family. It is not customary for a female to participate in such rituals.
*Dharma – Duty.
Copyright © BuntysBanter 2008
The next morning we (Dad & me) bid the Mother Mary grotto next to our apartment farewell for the last time seeking her blessings and packed off to Nasik in two cars with dad sitting next to me in a small earthen pot wrapped in a crisp red cotton cloth।
Dad was the true-blue Patriarch as Patriarchs are meant to be. One who boomed commands! One whom everyone loved & consulted! One who brought two feuding relatives together! One who came to the rescue of his poor relatives. One who instilled in me the value of the human spirit & the significance of relationships!
His demise has made me seek answers from within. My mind wanders aimlessly into the busiest of streets & the narrowest of alleys. Being strong is getting a bit tiring. And yet one look at Ma makes the resolve stronger.
She’s been a toughie too. Forty-three years of togetherness has seen all seasons of life. Their relationship was like an estuary that accepts both, the river as well as the sea in its folds. She seeks him in his face towel. Whenever the dull ache becomes relentless….she pulls out the face towel from its hiding & wipes her face with it. His lingering smell is her comfort.
Adhesive sentiments are making us hold on to a smell….a letter….a book…a memory! Such is the immense love that we feel around us. It’s as if Dad has enveloped my brother & me in his wisdom of togetherness. We are suddenly closer looking out for each other. I wonder what makes people fight over money when they lose their loved ones. The priceless gets under valued perhaps.
* In the Hindu religion, rituals like lighting the funeral pyre & later immersing the departed soul’s ashes in the holy river is done by the husband, son or any other male member of the family. It is not customary for a female to participate in such rituals.
*Dharma – Duty.
Copyright © BuntysBanter 2008
posted by Bunty's Banter at 10:26 AM
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