About Death
One truly grows up when one has buried someone from the previous generation and held the next generation in their hands.
I had read the above quote somewhere. That time I was not able to appreciate it. But now having done both, I feel there are no truer words.
I was at the funeral of a family acquaintance yesterday. The Patriarch of the family had passed away and the wider family had come around. They were bawling their eyes out. The eldest son was stoic and calm. He was going through the motions. It made me think about the time I had cremated my father. I was quiet too. I had not shed a tear. I was also going through the motions. The sudden feeling of responsibility over your shoulders did not give me the time or luxury to grieve. There were a thousand questions in my mind - How did this happen? What are the next steps? How do I take care of the family? How do I ensure the assets are not squandered away? Am I ready? What are the next ceremonies? What do I have to do? Whom can I trust?
I went through the motions while thinking about these questions. Everybody tells you to be strong, but what you want to hear is - It is ok to be vulnerable, I am there for you. Nobody says that. That is reserved for others. I grew up the moment I lit the pyre. I became a man. A stoic. A person who has to take his own decisions, without anybody guiding him. The grief did come, much later, in waves. The trigger is innocuous - a sound. For me, it happened when I had listened to the song “ Mann Bhareya” from the movie Shershah. It was nearly a year after my father had passed away. I was alone in my study and was watching the movie. The way the song is pictured, I saw a tear forming in my eyes. My thoughts went to my father and I bawled my eyes out. Alone, in a room, away from the world, in private I let the tears flow. What had started as a lone tear became a full angry cry. I remembered him, his companionship, his advice, his love, and his support. I also was angry at him for leaving so suddenly and so soon. I was angry at him for not spending enough time with his granddaughter. I missed him. By the end of the cry, I was ok, I had let out my emotions. I understood that if he had any control, he wouldn’t have gone. I understood that he had given me enough values to take care of me. I understood that he would not be back and I would have to grow up. I was fine. It was in private. The way I preffered.
