Yay, I love sneaking breaks at work when possible.. and this one is just before a team meet :o) !
Yesterday I passed this office on the way home, after a park walk - Co-operative Funeral Service. My first thought was, "people here even need to plan their funeral ?!?! Do we not leave it to our children by default and trust they would take care ?? Is it not a given we do our parents last rites ??" Yeah, that's the desi in me popping out and playing it's part.. but three and half years is a long time to be spent abroad especially if you have made only one trip back home in all the years.. the pardesi in me pops out next as expected, "What's wrong, why not do it ?? You can't seem to plan your birth but why not at least choose to be sent off in (your)style ??"
I continue thinking as I walk towards the lights. I conjure up this picture of me-no-more and suddenly wished to be burnt on sandalwood logs; could imagine people around the neighbourhood(of the crematorium of course !) sniff the air and comment, 'must have been such a sweet (smelling) person' !
As a rude reality check, I could also imagine suddenly the fodder it is likely to provide political & various other religious parties back home -
National Party One - "We need a reservation to help minorities access sandalwood more when they are gone.."
National Party Two - "We will ensure a sandalwood forest is created for the majorities, it's their land and deserve more even if no more !"
State Party One - "Sandalwood here belongs only to state-born, lets drive out everyone else after ensuring they contribute some more to help ease our sandalwood stocking budget.."
State Party Two - "We all would fast until death if no sandalwood after death assistance is provided to our neighbouring country which is another motherland to these state dwellers.."
Now shifts the scene in my mind to our media, we can never do without them, can we ! I began to sweat in spite of the chilly evening as I imagined every channel hosting chat shows about me-no-more(a person who loves to be alone in a crowd !)
"Enough is NEVER enough - a NRI's dream"
"Sandalwood Scandal vs Watergate Scandal"
Every paper in the country, digs into nooks & corners of my life to bring out some smashing headlines of my closet skeletons -
"She bought an ice-cream from Rs.5 found on the road, how immoral and unethical even when only seven !"
"She flunked her Maths(lets forget she was off ill and turned up to school to find it was an exam day), must have got through college by corruption. Please sign online petition for an enquiry into her examination results"
"CBI probing possible nexus between her and Veerappan, they were both Madrasi. (Aren't South Indians are ALL Madrasi ??)"
I reach my apartment and take the lift to friend-cum-neighbour's home, but my mind is still working out if-am-no-more facts...
The news obviously catches International attentions and I could envision the debate it was going to set off abroad too
"Migrants loot locals to die in style"
"Migrants to be made to pay for their death". Well, that's just what I thought I did !
"Let's call for a quota system on the number of migrants to be allowed to die"
"Let's tax all migrants who die in our country"
I knock on the door and my friend opens, smiles warmly and wishes "Happy B'day dear, come on in.."
Suddenly, it struck me life is more fun when you are living it than not ! I smiled :)
Yesterday I passed this office on the way home, after a park walk - Co-operative Funeral Service. My first thought was, "people here even need to plan their funeral ?!?! Do we not leave it to our children by default and trust they would take care ?? Is it not a given we do our parents last rites ??" Yeah, that's the desi in me popping out and playing it's part.. but three and half years is a long time to be spent abroad especially if you have made only one trip back home in all the years.. the pardesi in me pops out next as expected, "What's wrong, why not do it ?? You can't seem to plan your birth but why not at least choose to be sent off in (your)style ??"
I continue thinking as I walk towards the lights. I conjure up this picture of me-no-more and suddenly wished to be burnt on sandalwood logs; could imagine people around the neighbourhood(of the crematorium of course !) sniff the air and comment, 'must have been such a sweet (smelling) person' !
As a rude reality check, I could also imagine suddenly the fodder it is likely to provide political & various other religious parties back home -
National Party One - "We need a reservation to help minorities access sandalwood more when they are gone.."
National Party Two - "We will ensure a sandalwood forest is created for the majorities, it's their land and deserve more even if no more !"
State Party One - "Sandalwood here belongs only to state-born, lets drive out everyone else after ensuring they contribute some more to help ease our sandalwood stocking budget.."
State Party Two - "We all would fast until death if no sandalwood after death assistance is provided to our neighbouring country which is another motherland to these state dwellers.."
Now shifts the scene in my mind to our media, we can never do without them, can we ! I began to sweat in spite of the chilly evening as I imagined every channel hosting chat shows about me-no-more(a person who loves to be alone in a crowd !)
"Enough is NEVER enough - a NRI's dream"
"Sandalwood Scandal vs Watergate Scandal"
Every paper in the country, digs into nooks & corners of my life to bring out some smashing headlines of my closet skeletons -
"She bought an ice-cream from Rs.5 found on the road, how immoral and unethical even when only seven !"
"She flunked her Maths(lets forget she was off ill and turned up to school to find it was an exam day), must have got through college by corruption. Please sign online petition for an enquiry into her examination results"
"CBI probing possible nexus between her and Veerappan, they were both Madrasi. (Aren't South Indians are ALL Madrasi ??)"
I reach my apartment and take the lift to friend-cum-neighbour's home, but my mind is still working out if-am-no-more facts...
The news obviously catches International attentions and I could envision the debate it was going to set off abroad too
"Migrants loot locals to die in style"
"Migrants to be made to pay for their death". Well, that's just what I thought I did !
"Let's call for a quota system on the number of migrants to be allowed to die"
"Let's tax all migrants who die in our country"
I knock on the door and my friend opens, smiles warmly and wishes "Happy B'day dear, come on in.."
Suddenly, it struck me life is more fun when you are living it than not ! I smiled :)
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