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In Memoriam
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"Will you remember me, after I am dead?" So many times women ask this question of their husbands or lovers! And invariably the answer happens to be, "Yes, darling. I will never forget you!" Truly, many men do remember and keep on remembering their departed wives. There will be an enlarged framed photograph of the beloved wife. The husband will garland it, give an advertisement in the newspaper in form of shraddhanjali on her birth and death anniversary, will do charity on her name... Everybody has a different way of remembering their departed loved ones.
A few months back, my friend Sudhir Shah remembered his wife in a very unique way. One fine day he called to say, "These days, Rupa seems to be on my mind constantly. Day and night I find my self thinking about her. Then I thought, why should I remember her alone? Let's all get together and remember her. Let's have a party!"
People like Sudhir don't need an excuse to have a celebration. But just in case he needed one, here it was! He said, "Rupa and I had our first meeting 28 years back, on 1st February. I had gone to my friend's place to prepare for my college exams. On my way back home, I saw Rupa. She was coming back from a movie. There on the crowded street, I saw her for the first time..."
So on the first day of February this year Sudhir threw a party on the terrace of a well-known city hotel. The decor was festive and so was the mood. The terrace was lit up with colourful lights. The bar was busy and the buffet table was overflowing. Guests had come decked up in the best of their clothes and jewellery. Everybody had a smile on their lips.
And it was not a plastic smile, not just a superficial expression. It was a smile that came from deep within their hearts.
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| "Won't you feel better if you remember the departed spouse with a smile instead of tears?" |
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There were a few like me who had never met Rupa. But that evening we all saw her. Rupa, a 17-year old college girl; Rupa, a demure bride on her wedding day; Rupa, in a funny-looking costume abroad with her husband and son and so on. The projector kept on churning one image after another on the screen. And Rupa became more real, alive amongst us.
For Rupa's friends, the memories were flooding in. Almost everybody had something to say about her and they did so. Of course, this was not the usual condolence meeting where you talk in a sober tone with a serious face. The friends and relatives had happy, funny memories to share. "Hey, you remember that time when Rupa was admitted to the hospital due to ill-health and was bored out of her mind? How she had slipped away from the hospital at night and went to a friend's place to play cards..."
Of course, everybody present there knew that 22 years into the marriage, Rupa had got cancer. And one bright morning, she had left Sudhir leaving behind a small son. Sudhir never remarried.
But now was not the time to remember the painful moments, open the wounds. This party was a celebration of life, a life well-led. Nobody said mushy stuff like 'we miss her very much' or 'may God give peace to her soul'. Nobody thought of saying a prayer, to wish peace upon her in the other world. This may be so, perhaps, because Rupa led a very happy and content life in this world.
Almost everyday we read obituaries and anniversaries remembered in the newspaper. People write: "Even after 10 - 15 years, we can't come to terms with your death. We still cry when we remember you. Tearfully, we pay homage to you..." on and on. Reading such obituaries, one wonders why we always have to cry when we remember our loved ones.
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| "Will you remember me, after I am dead?" |
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When the shock is immediate and the wound fresh it is very natural to feel sorry. For days, for months, you miss the person. That is understandable. But after some time, don't you feel like smiling remembering some happy moments shared with that person? In your dark moments doesn't the memory of your beloved cheer you up? And won't you feel better if you remember the departed spouse with a smile instead of tears? After attending that party, many people must have thought such thoughts.
Some woman, who might have normally asked, "Will you remember me after my death?" might have gone home that night to ask her husband, "After I am gone, will you care to remember me THIS WAY? Will you celebrate my memory, rather than mourn my loss?"
That evening, I heard a poem by Robert Bridges. It went like this:
Rejoice ye Dead
Wherever Your Spirits Dwell
Rejoice That Yet On Earth
Your Flame Is Bright
And That Your Names
Remembered Day And Night
Live On The Lips Of Those
Who Love You Well.
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Varsha Pathak
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