Another day in India came with it yet another challenge in my life here.
I'm not good with death, but hey, who is? So last night at 9pm when our door bell rang and our security guard stood there close to tears, informing us of the passing of our elderly landlord, I knew that today would be full of challenges.
The day dawned and so did the constant stream of visitors coming to pay their respects. Margaret arrived at work and I asked her what I should be doing in this situation. She told me just what my ears and my heart did not want to hear, even though in my mind I knew what I should do. She told me I should buy a flower garland and go and pay my respects. Fabby. On the way to buy the flowers Victor told me that he had already been to see the family and the "BODY". Oh s**t. Talk about in your face. Death in India is so public.
With the flowers in hand, a condolence card and a big deep breath it was my turn to do what I have always dreaded. Margaret came with me to pay her respects too. We entered the open front door and there was the body lying on the floor draped in a white cloth with only his head exposed, sleeping so peacefully in his afterlife. I approached his daughter who was standing at the foot of the body quietly keeping watch over her father and paid my respects. I felt every eye in the room on me just watching and wondering what I would do next. I tried to hand her the flowers but she directed me to place them on the body. Oh no it's getting hot in here now and my hands are shaking, thank heavens for my Margaret who took over and helped me place them. I then stood, said a silent prayer and was out of there as quick as my shaking legs and sweaty feet could take me.
Once back in our apartment tears sprang into my eyes and the magnitude of what I had just witnessed hit me full in the stomach. Then, so did the water that Margaret started splashing all over my head as she was telling me to wash my face.... What the? Apparently you should pour a bucket of water over your head after leaving the house of the deceased to wash away any bacteria from the body.
Our landlord was a very humble, kind hearted man. A true gentleman who's family, I am sure will miss him dearly. We used to see him in the afternoon, along with his Physiotherapist taking a wander downstairs to get some exercise. He was always quick to say hello and enquire after our wellbeing and never failed to ask after our family back home. He would tell me with a hint of a smile that he loved to hear Tarzan (Mac) yelling in our apartment.
R.I.P Mr Sreedharan.
3 comments:
Oh Megs what a day you have had...Another challenge alright... Am picturing you with Margaret and the bucket of water...Take Care xxxx
Megan... a tear and a giggle from me in the one blog. You really have found your calling.
So proud of you that you confronted one of your greatest fears. It's never easy.
Amen for Margaret hey. You two have certainly had some experiences. Thank goodness you didn't faint. Imagine how much water you would have been doused in!
As for the washing of the bacteria... never heard of that one although we nurses and midwives do love a good hand scrub up to the elbows.
Oh well Megs ... another life experience ticked off the list! How many more can you fit into the next 6 weeks?
Good on you for doing what you thought was necessary, even though it was difficult. In a way i think the Indians have got it right- they really do see death as just amother part of life and treat it accordingly. x
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