My fantasies on my funeral. Written in Bangalore on July 20, 2004.
If it were my Funeral Today July 20,2004
Imagine I died, and Kolhapur police did not know what to do. No relatives, no wife/children with a crooked legal complication. Should I be burried on burned? Shall I stay in Kolhapur or Bangalore or Chicago? After my death is notified, perhaps Mr. Dick would come to deal with me. Police would say, since his body is not donated for medical research, he may be taken care of by his family of choice. Police would also say we do not know how he died. Could be a combination of homicide, natural death, AIDS and stroke. Mr. Dick would thank them so that the Police would not have to produce another copy of the post-mortem report. Only he might say that I am sure Miss Pretty, Miss Drink, and Miss Bitch, in addition to Miss Ditches, would be interested in knowing that this Mr. Asshole is dead. Police would immediately agree because of the stinking smell that is still coming from the Morgue. Then Mr. Dick would take his own time, through Indian Proper Channel, to form the group of Miss Pretty, Miss Drink, Miss Bitch and the Miss Ditches. Until they arrive I shall enjoy the nice AC room and special care with a doorman -- as I am not homeless anymore. The Misses would extend the comfort by not appearing on time because they could not avail any more holidays. Finally Mr. Dick will read his prepared speech: " Hindus in his caste are burned. Some Hindus are burried. Muslim and Christians are burried. What to do with the Asshole?" "He should be burried" Pretty and Bitch said. "You can do anything" Drink answered. "You don't have to do anything. Leave the dead body as the Parsis do. Even 'Betal' can take his dead body to the unknown places." Ditches replied. "If we do not have to do anything," Mr. Dick argued, "We need not have gathered here. When the question of burial came to the body of Saint Kabir, popular legend says that his body no longer remained in one piece, it became two halfs full of lotuses! Hindus burned one half, and Muslims burried the other half." " Then we can first burn him and bury the remains" Miss Drink opined. " Since Asshole was born Hindu, that is not a bad proposition; but usually Assholes like him are left to the Ganges or the Kaveri." I was very ammused. I had covered my face with the white linen Miss Drink brought for me. Felt very cool that I don't have to work anymore. Miss Bitch got the point. "Asshole worked since the age of ten. No body ever paid him the money he deserved. Since he is dead, he need not work anymore. I wish him peace and rest". I admired the loyalty of Miss Bitch. Miss Pretty took a different view. "I was pretty long time ago; but don't know how to marry another guy now. Everyone would be scared of Asshole's ghost." I giggled. Now everyone has to pay Pretty else I am going to scare them. Miss Drink is totally different. She cannot speak Maratha. She tried to explain that due to her other commitments on the weekends at the bar, funeral can only be on a Thursday, so that she can mourn me on a Wednesday. "That bitch has not changed yet. Why cannot you take a weekend off for me?" I woke up yelling. The gathering got scared, they just dispersed, police tried to change their post mortem reports; Miss Ditches left me to Betal and vanished. ***** Betal: One kind of Indian ghost who can steal my deadbody *******