...and Beyond

Malu sat in distress, eyes dried out and head reeling. This era is over, done with, never to return. Mom will not be there anymore. They took her to the crematorium in the morning and now all that remains is ashes.

Ashes, she thought, in Indian custom, to be collected and put in a sacred river, for mom to attain salvation.

She has been an atheist all thirty years of her life, and never believed in grandma’s stories about salvation, incarnations and the related rituals.
Now, she wished all that was true…If not in this life, after life, or in next one, to be united with her. I would do anything to see her again…oh, don’t be crazy, she warned herself.

Relatives were leaving one by one, and soon it would be she and her brother at home, who again would go back to where they work, leaving the home closed out. Pain in the heart, dull and heavy and no more tears to wash away that…

By evening she was shivering. She had fever and was running high temperature.  Muttering all the while, she was thinking “Mom, take me with you, I would like to be where you are”. No such luck, the family doc gave some medicines and she was better in two days.

There was a ritual, where one offers food, water, cloths and other essentials to the dead one.  A ritual said to help the soul attain salvation. Offering included a thread taken from a new cloth to represent dress, a handful of cooked rice for food and water.  At the end, one would call the ancestors to accept the offer and it is believed they would come…

Malu followed all steps as instructed by the priest, though the vision was through a curtain of tears. “My dear mom, I can only offer this thread and this rice…I can’t get you anything else” She was a busy professional and mom was proud of her.  She showered the affection by means of gifts whenever she felt the pang of guilt of not being able to spend time with mom.  No more time left and money is not of use anymore.

At the end when she called, a craw came. Flew down from a tree nearby, perched at one end of the plantain leaf, and gave her, a calm, kind look.  It took a mouthful of rice and flew away.

“Thank you mom,” she said though the atheist inside was watching.

After a week, Malu left for her work place about 300 miles away, locking away the home that was so much a part of her.

After two weeks, there was another ritual to feed the crow. It was raining heavily since midnight and appeared as if no living creature would come out in the open. Still it came.

Rice and curries in a plantain leaf…placed on a new paper and kept in first floor balcony, close to the window. The craw came and kept on hitting the window glass. Malu went down to leave it alone and came back after a while; the craw was all wet from the rain and eating the food…

She did not see the crow for next two days, though she was looking for it whenever she happened to be near the window or in the backyard.
It was there on Balcony on the third day. Not hitting the glass but was just resting there. They exchanged a glance. Malu wanted to feed it, but there was no cooked rice, hence gave it some bread and a banana… when she came back later, food was not there, neither the crow…

The crow became a regular.  Malu and craw exchange glances that are a little longer than normal between a human and crow – a look of affection, understanding and pain of separation, before it eats the food and goes away.

By now, Malu had the wisdom of ancestors. She knew.

This is the transformation; mom, who can now come over as she pleases. She can continue to be Malu’s companion as long as she lives, and probably beyond.

(Words: 685)