My sister’s voice spoke more than her words. “Come straight to hospital,” she said at the other end of line. I anxiously inquired how he was. After a long pause, she said, “There’s no improvement. You just come.”As I drove to the hospital, I felt a heaviness weigh down on me. I felt he won’t make it despite the best efforts of the doctors and intense prayers of his loved ones. To me, the reception area of the hospital wore a pall of gloom. My sister, a doctor herself, led me to the ICU. Uncle was in coma and on a ventilator. There was no tension on his face. His chest kept rising and falling with each deep breath he took. My sister said in a broken voice, “Take a close look. He is going to leave us soon.” The senior doctor, nurses and junior doctors were all a picture of calm and composure. They knew what was coming. The doctor signalled to my sister to call the others. The end was drawing near. Soon the hall reverberated with wailing of close relatives, as children, grandchildren and friends stood around. In a moment the breathing stopped and there was a profound stillness. The doctor cleared his throat, and without an iota of emotion, said, “We’re sorry. We tried everything we could to save him. This is life. You have to accept it.”The funeral was planned for a day later so that everyone could be informed about the death. Dressed in his favourite suit, uncle was placed in a transparent, ice-cold casket. He looked splendid: calm, contemplative and dignified. His favourite hymn from the Bhagwad Gita was continuously played. People milled around with flowers and wreaths. People who gathered outside under a makeshift tent and recalled the high points in uncle’s life, and the good deeds he did. Hours later, as the body was placed on the pyre, there was a sense of farewell. A large crowd had gathered to bid farewell to a man they admired and respected. One of my uncle’s contemporaries remarked, as many do on such occasions, “What a glorious innings!”For me it was hard to come to terms with this moment of death. The child-like smile uncle wore as the flames consumed him remained in my mind long after his ashes were immersed. Death remains the most mysterious aspect of life.
