The crowd was very close to me.
Some stoically devoid of any emotion. Others with grief written on their face. I did feel like coming out and give a comforting hug...
The young men were discussing the recent rugby league. Apparently inaudible. but I was perceived to be clairvoyant…Taboo’s have become unfashionable these days..Soleminity has lost on the generation next...After all I don’t deserve such sedate attention..
Few people dressed in white robes stood on my left. They were obviously professionals...They spoke with clinical precision...And the assemblage spoke along with them in a rhyme that sounded cliché..
Some faces looked so sullen, grief written larger over there face and they kept crying..The older folks kept everything going well. They shared the flowers and the kids ran after em for their share.Out of the blue it felt like it was raining, but intuition proved wrong...It was just those professionals doing their part.
The decibel levels changed sporadically. After all, only kids cry rhyming.
Then the priest gesticulated. It never dawned on me the mayhem he was causing.
The dust was nauseating. They threw it with ennobled grace. Few did take a second glance at me.
The undertaker didn’t wait much.
And then he closed the casket. And I went down tranquilly……..
Once upon a time……..
-
*kadalinakkare ponore, kaana ponninu ponorekadalinakkare ponore, kaana
ponninu ponore*
*poy varumbol enthu kondu varum -- kai niraye*
*poy varumbol enthu k...
15 years ago
1 comment:
jus stumbled on this old post...i like this of all the best because its something we never think of during a funeral...
this is a fear that i share with my dad..wat if i was mistaken as dead and put 6 feet under..the thought of me banging on the coffin door sends a cold shiver down my spine....
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