Muthassi – A Tale of Two Souls

There is a bridge , not too far from here where on either side lives Yin and Yang. The souls of many have crisscrossed both  sides but finally at close of day all return to their respective dwellings.  On one such day two souls depart , both from  either faith . They were taken to a neutral resting place and to be cremated.

 Let us address the first as Yin who is a 90 year old grandmother. The second is Yang age not known, and all that we know, the body is that of a destitute Aids Patient . It was under the care of a charitable organization who had come forward to bear the cost of  cremation .

Yin was taken in an ambulance with her son carrying the ambers in an earthen pot to the crematorium. A small group of no more than nine members consisting of friends and families reach the crematorium. I would have thought that this was rather a small gathering.

A ninety year old very beautiful yet lonely soul could attract no more than nine members on her last journey ? It would be proper to note that actually the total number of friends and relatives who gathered on that day and paid condolence over the next three days could well have been less than ninety people.

It was a journey very  lonely indeed and in  such subdued silence ,  that it was really deafening. The only cacophony was the sound of the scriptures being recited by the Priest and the do’s and don’ts being rattled off by the chamber man.  

 The crowd all appeared as walking ghosts , void of any feelings and some even  looking into the inner chamber where the body was to be cremated . There was an old Grandpa gazing up the chimney pathway explaining to his young grandson how the journey ends here and may appear to indicate that this was truly the stairway to heaven.

  The priest asks the son to repeat the sacred lines, none understood the same and as customary the chamber man kept busy with the arrangements inside. In a remote corner the dried up coconut fibre was burning silently and set to be spread on the pyre soon.

 All this while , on a cold granite block the aged body that withstood ninety years of ravage was lying lonely,  as when it was alive . Nothing perhaps had changed for her nor will.  The son was all but lost in translation finding the meanings of the sacred lines that would ensure his mother’s soul would be at peace from now on. He was so lost and so much in pain and all alone. He had lost his alter ego!

Alongside a little later another body arrived; let us address this new person as Yang. There were two ladies and the ambulance driver who without a fuss place the body on the pyre and awaits the chamber man to do his job.

No prayers, no rituals, no families nor friends and I could sense the emptiness deep within me.

Reminded me of Jesus Christ who had two companions Dismas and Gestas on the cross, both convicts; Dismas the good thief was spared and Gestas the bad thief went punished . Understand that Dismas was promised Paradise while Gestas surely would have gone to hell.  

I am no one to judge but the image of the Yin and Yang kept playing in my mind. I knew Yin for her poise and she was grace personified. She was Dismas the good thief who took away with her all that was beautiful reminding us that nothing was everlasting ! I dare call her a thief for she had this mischievous smile when I had asked her last to sing that favourite song of yesteryears.  She simply held my hand and closed her eyes on me for good,  cause barely nineteen hours later she passed away.

Yin was someone very special and dear to me .  She enjoyed conversing in English, rare as it were for someone who came from a pastoral background. Her fine tastes and love for music is what brought us closer, and she would love to sing whenever asked . Her favourite song of course was the Travancore State song called “Vanjibhoomi ..” that she first sang as a small girl. Loved her black and white pictures  and memories of the Travancore days , specially she was lit up at the mention of her father whom she was very close to .

 They were two souls, Yin and Yang who were cremated but to me I saw on that day in all of us, a weary Jesus Christ returning to carry the cross and living the promise or guilt of another day.

When all was done, the parting lines of the Priest echoed, come tomorrow and carry the ashes and immerse it in the nearby river .

 The chamber man was ever helpful to remind that come early before the day begins, and when questioned would he be there tomorrow, comes a firm and certain reply YES.

He has conquered the fear of death for there was going to be no resurrection ever.

As is customary you do not take leave from those who have lost a dear one, but I could hear someone speak to the son , from a distance “ You have done all and she lived a full life “.

Only after I had returned home did it strike me that Gestas also must have been cremated with none to follow the sequence.

In the passing away of both Yin and Yang one thing that stared at me “   was that both the Yin and Yang are within us. We constantly keep fighting for our eternal rewards and miss this cardinal truth that both Heaven and Hell exits here amongst the living and not some dead body waiting on that cold granite block to be cremated. Heaven is not up the milky way nor hell full many a fathom deep ,  down and under .

In that stillness , I have come to terms with eternity and from this new dawn to another dusk will burn , simply burn , and rage against the wind and tide.