When we hosted the 13th
day ritual (tehrvi as we call it in hindu culture) after our father died, I was
later told, it was hub for gossip. People came and gossiped about how we were
managing, they came and talked about the food. I still remember the function
(yes that is what I called it). Some 8
years back.
We had my dad’s
picture endowed with flowers with some bhajan and candles or diya and probably
on one end of the arrangement. No one went there or if they did I wasn’t aware.
They came and met us, expressed their condolence, complimented the food and
went on their way
Why did we do it? Well
other than the ritualistic belief, there was an overpowering faith in our minds
(me and my sister’s) that somewhere he was watching us and he would have liked
it. We did not care about the rest. We did his last rites, together and no one
stopped us, surprisingly. Even when we were standing between some of the most
prolific of pandits, no one stopped us or we didn’t wait for anyone to stop us.
My sister is like that. I am just getting there.
I don’t think I have
ever been scared of death. Having lost my parents I think I have seen death
closely. But I lost my father much before he left. So this blog of mine will be
very honest.
There have been a couple
of times when I wanted to die. Didn’t care much about life. But life happens,
and I always found a reason to live. The transition from wanting to die to
be okay with living doesn’t seem like much, but it is humongous.
People need support to
make that change and they will find it. The only thing a person can do is not
be a reason to push them back.
As I started to write
today’s blog, I wanted it to be about what my tombstone is going to say. Having
seen my father’s funeral, I doubt I am going to get one organized for myself (one can pray),
but an epitaph for me is something I would give a shot at.
Let me see-
This is what it will
read-
Nupur- Lived, loved and laughed.
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