Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5
The evidence of the life you lived are the things you loved.
It has been decided that I will be burnt in the compound of my natal home. A large sum has been sent by Adarsh and my friends for my funeral. I genuinely feel sad for them but I’m really curious to find out who puts the effort to visit me today. Isn’t it something we all are curious about when alive? In other news, Cheta finally broke down. He’s been stroking my hair since they got my body. Stop it, I want to tell him. I hate people touching my hair, of course he knows that best. In addition to that, his hands are wet from his tears and mucus. What is the point of crying now?
Of all the things we carry with us in life, guilt is the heaviest possession to carry. It’s like the one random item that serves no purpose, but we do not have the heart to throw it away, one unnecessary footwear, not needed for a trip but we still carry it, because what if? Just in case. The lack of it might make us feel less humane. I cannot believe the people who are showing up, I don’t even know most of them. They should be Appa’s friends who assured that there is a treatment for this disease.
As time passed, the hustle and bustle of a funeral took over. Amma never stepped out. She seemed untouched. She kept cooking Kadala curry. It was not part of the customs, just a dish, I would have for the nth time, bend over, and scream “AdiPoli Amma” and she would chuckle. Appa had tried to control her, so she cooked some more. People carve their own ways of expressing resistance.
Rukhsa has picked up a fight with the man decorating the house with flowers. She wanted only roses because she thought I liked them. The truth was I thought roses were generic and never knew what to do with flowers when I was offered some. They were beautiful and that’s all. They had no real value. Rukhsa said not everything should have value. Just admire them. So, I put some water in empty beer bottles that were lying in our house and kept them. Days later, I would worry that it would wither away. I might have developed an appetite for flowers. The longer it stays with you, the more you care. Stockholm syndrome, I guess, I don’t know. Then, it became a habit. Rukhsa and roses – A symbol of our friendship.
The boys had their priorities fixed. Whether it was a celebration or mourning, the boys’ agenda revolved around pretty much food and alcohol. They said they wanted to send me off on a happy note which meant more food and more alcohol. Stanley had arranged mutton biryani for all the guests. It was being cooked a little further away from our house because the smell of meat would be another issue to deal with. Clinton had assembled the boys and pledged that he would only drink my favourite brand for the next one year and an extra round today in my name. The evidence of the life you lived are really the things you loved.
Alex was a man driven by purpose. He filed petitions. He arranged protests for marriage rights. He ensured the news reached publishers and popular social media pages. He reached out to influencers and actors from the community. He wanted every voice to be out in the open, for the world to turn heads.
Then, Appa was prepared to burn me. All Adarsh did was ask him to wait. Then he ran towards the car, got a speaker, connected it to the bluetooth and played “Kanne Kalaimane.”
Dasettan and Raja sir resurrected even the dead.
That’s all Adarsh did.
Not a drop was shed.
