What prompted such a thought in me?
A Bengali story I read lately (in translation) called “The Red Saree” by Ashapurna Debi.
I’ve always maintained I cannot carry the shakha-pola-loha-shidur with the same grace that I perhaps would do to a blue earring or a white watch or green shoes! I do love decking up in a saree, I feel very “nice” in it…and yes sometimes I do give in to the fact that a shakha may complement a dhakai saree remarkably.
Where does all this fit in?
Here: AD’s story (I don’t remember exactly now) was more or less set in very early 20th century Bengal, but it didn’t fail to scare me. True to it, a much- married Bengali woman (and unwidowed) on her “last journey” (to the burning ghats) is dressed up (uncomfortably) by her grieving fellow-females. Please note: relatives first, friends can wait.
In the saree she had wedded in; which in most cases is a pathetically red Benarasi one. I succumbed to all these rituals (esp the “redness”, gold, sandalwood etc.) rather in a procedural manner: denial-defiance-bargains-begging-aloofness-acceptance. Huh. The shade which was finally bought was an over-expensive (why oh why?) “kaalchey-laal” and while I did drape it once, for no number of while-on-earth Tissots and Fiats and Tiffanys and Diors would I ever agree to embark on my oh-so-divine-journey in that legendary-arty-weave.
Tell me; amidst all other corpses wouldn’t I look awfully out of place clad in a 6 yard of exquisiteness!!! Yuck, I wouldn’t be able to rest in peace :)
So, I wouldn’t like the following things to happen to me once I’m no more verbally-reactively-responsive:
1. No burning of my body please. I am afraid of fire and burns.
2. No keeping it back for ‘x’ number of hours for visitors to cast a ‘last look’. I don’t much enjoy looks even now.
3. No decking me up in the “notun-bou-saaj”. I have been enough non-reticent to display my dislike for laal shaaree, shakha pola loha shudur, and oh yes, even the aalta. I mean they are so loud.
4. I would like my specks in my clutch. I feel incomplete without it.
5. No holding of the traditional “shradhha ceremony”. Relatives bitching around have always disgusted me. Friends can have a farewell-treat, on me.
6. Play any of the ‘dj kents’ playlists on my i-pod. I love listening to music while traveling. Always.
I do not know if any one would ever register these or who would abide by my wishes.
I do not also know if at all I would rest in peace.
I do not know. And do not want to be known.
It is nice to be unknown, to un-belong.
To be. Even after being.
8 comments:
Great subject and wonderfully put.there is no trace of death and its innumerable connottations-black, bad luck, weeping black cat..(refer to Riders for further reference).It's a happy post abt Death-Like it!!
:)
when u first said it to me,i was taken aback and didnt giv it much importance.wel,now dat i have known what triggers it and relishd the reading,i must say that i have personally liked both the content and the style...sumthng that is inevitable ur case... :) (usually)... :)
if possible i wil definitly see that ur wishes r fulfilled.
Love its defiance most n its non-conformity.....:)..A life-time of being a rebel n being buried in ur wedding saree wld b an irony...grt u pointed it out...hv strted thinking wht i wld hate too!lol!Keep writing..keep contesting!CHEERS!
Ami dekhbo jate tomar ichchha puron hoy... If required, by means of violence!
Huhh!
Chita to cholbe na... to kobor? naki onno kono alternative janio. Songe jodi aro kono criteria thake, bolo. Oi pare giye rest in peace hobe ki hobe na porer katha. Jibito jibon-er ichhegulo kon shala oporno rakhe ami dekhe nebo!
:x
Till then enjoy life...
Death can be enjoyed in your way in due time...
A unique 'kent'ish composition. Wish I could publish it. :)
But somehow it sounded somewhat unreal. Just to me, I guess. I just cannot even imagine you not being there. :)
The six yards of exquisiteness, much talked about choice of draping for the Bengalee Kone, have never been taken up with this finesse! Draped in all its grandeur, the would be bahu tiptoes to take her vows amid much oosh and shoosh and from then on the Benarasi masterpiece serves as a reminder of that occasion. Mostly, that is. The journey you mention here is longer and may reach into far corners of the universe we know or know not. Jeans, Bermudas or anything else would serve better, no doubt. Very thoughtful!!
Equally thoughtful you are in your choice of the occasion to let people, professedly close and sensitive ones, to know about your dislikes, - expect not too many of ‘baur ranna khabar’ (don’t like fires), staring relatives (especially the bitchy ones). Funny the way we are taught not to air out our dislikes in public. A clever way to let it all out. Very clever indeed!!
Love your last lines. Some things are better when unknown, quite like silence, when things are better unsaid. Brilliant.
oh kentsy, luurrrve this post! more than this a mail shall tell/thoughts 'after' death spouted pellmell. ;-)
being a didi I would start with balai shat!!! although am glad your gen is protesting all this.. over the yrs I have build up courage to do so too - being a rebel, chalking a life on my own terms feels awesome.. keep um coming!
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