Riotous red of rose petals,
sweet scent of night jasmine;
strewn on the dull grey road; haphazardly….
The steady rhythm of the drums….
I strain my eyes and crane my neck,
to see in the distant; decorated by
An assortment of flowers…. A casket
Peacefully sleeping forever;
Soul long departed….
The drums get louder; I notice
Young men moving their body
To the rhythmic pattern….
Its a celebration; of life and death
Or so it seems
Celebration? I wonder…
More of a break from their mundane
life. Dancing with ecstasy.
Cheers to the opportunity…
Some are sober; while some
high on spirits.
Celebration – of life and death?
I search for a solemn expression;
for a sombre soul…
Oh why do I think death should be grim?
What else should it be?
I then wonder; what would the dead have thought?
Cry for me a little; perhaps?
Think of me now and again; in joy and pain?
Let go of me in silence; I suppose?
Death….is a celebration.
The dead is being paraded; like a deity.
The life - celebrated; or the moment?
I would never know….
PS : Ive always been curious about why people give noisy farewell to the dead. The beat of the drums, the noise, the chaos, blocking traffic and causing inconvenience to others.....Would the dead person have liked it? I doubt..Also, whats in it for the mourners? I am using the word "mourner" here liberally. More often; I have noticed people dont mourn or pay respect; for some its a formality and a break from their daily run-of-the-mill life.
