Society’s response to deaths and ailments

After gulping the last drop of bitter boiled tea, I collected my strength and spirit to execute the long pending, mundane task of arranging the books and papers spread all around my house in an orderly fashion on a disheveled  and cluttered bookshelf. In the last couple of years, every time a visitor graced my house, I had to sweat for hiding the 'natural state of topsy turvy' under the smooth veil of orderliness even though success betrayed me more often than not. Their prying, experienced eyes pierced through the glossy layer of artificial orderliness to discover the harmless heap of brochures and books at all places .While sifting the important documents from the stacks of papers and magazines, I found the  print out of the urdu poet Ghalib's quintessential couplet that  not only stirred my imagination but also scared me.

"Rahiye Ab Aisi Jagah Chal Kar Jahaan Koi Na Ho,
Ham Sukhan Koi Na Ho Aur Ham Zabaan Koi Na Ho
Be-Daro-Deevaar-Sa Ek Ghar Banaya Chahiye,

Koi Ham Saaya Na Ho Aur Paasbaan Koi Na Ho
Pariye Gar Beemaar Tou Koi Na Ho Teemaardaar
Aur Agar Mar Jaiye Tou Noha Khoaan Koi Na Ho"

Alas! After more than hundred years of his death, the city where Ghalib was born and buried is not very different from the imaginary ‘jagah (place)’visualised in his thoughtful poetry dipped in the concoction of wine and worries. This stanza seems so relevant and shockingly true in the modern world of metropolises where the lives of human beings have been programmed meticulously to strive for staying ahead in the never ending race of life. The insatiable desire of surpassing every shining milestone and dream of hedonistic life style snatches the most valuable possession of the human beings ‘The Time'. It may not be wise to expect the men with vision and wisdom to share the fast diminishing inventory of time with their ailing friends and dying relatives.

Social upheaval - Society’s response to deaths and ailments

Indian society is going through the cultural renaissance -the much admired joint family set up has collapsed giving rise to smaller nuclear arrangements without the availability and affordability of the necessary and sustainable support structure for the separated families. The traditional servile Indian 'Bahu' has disappeared in the glittering lanes of  prosperity and empowerment. Sadly, the old parents are staying alone, far away from the greener pastures their children have chosen to inhabit. The 'Teemardar(care taker)' of Ghalib's poetry is on the verge of extinction in this evolving modern society. Only  few chosen and blessed souls can afford the mechanical services of  health service providers or buy the un-attenuated attention and good gesture of relatively 'less privileged relatives' with limited opportunities and aspirations.

Not many months ago, on a busy winter morning, I experienced the terrifying truth of life when I visited to pay my last respect to an acquaintance who died after a prolonged illness. The body deserted by the soul (Once upon a lively man), covered with the white sheet was lying in a corner of the house. The sound of sobbing and murmur was coming from the other room occupied by the bereaved family. I could sense the difficulties faced by the relatives from a different city in making the arrangement for funeral and other necessities required for performing the last rites. My heart ached at the indifference and apathy of neighbours and I could not stop the tears gushing out from my eyes.

The gentleman was from a respectable family of a decent small town who came to this metropolitan city almost a decade back to meet the rising aspirations of life. Had he died in his small little place, I am sure that his neighbors, friends and even enemies would have volunteered to make the necessary arrangements at this moment of sorrow and grief? The social structure of small towns and villages not only provides the safety valve to vent out sorrows and pains but also helps to negotiate the most difficult turns of life.

The winter has vanished, summer sun is back with rage and fury but I still get hounded and disturbed by the silent complaint visible in the eyes of ‘sprinkling of neighbours’ and ‘handful of friends’ gathered in the graveyard about the important meetings they had to postpone and the critical work they could not finish. A poet has very aptly described ‘Mout ke apne sau jhamele hain’. I wish to end this gloomy tale with a utopian hope that society will evolve to keep pace with the economic progress without dismantling the cultural framework.