Yesterday evening I again took my place, along with a thousand others, in a local cemetery run by the Carmelite Brothers. The occasion: a Mass for All Souls’ Day. The scene on arrival was something to behold. Family members young and old were busily at work festooning the graves with marigolds, roses, orchids and jasmine. Flower heads and petals were laid out in extraordinarily intricate and elaborate designs, while vivid garlands of yellow and orange marigolds were draped over headstones and crosses. As dusk fell candles were lit and placed around the graves along with incense sticks. The Mass, relayed by speakers, began shortly after five on a stage erected in the far corner of the cemetery. Transfixed by faith and flowers, the prayers and lessons washed over me. A deeply moving scene: and nowhere more so than at a tiny cluster of nearby children’s graves. If possible, the scene here was even more poignant as family members gathered - peaceful, dignified remembrance - each adding to the garlands and candles. As a country, India has a tendency to tease the emotions more than most. An evening such as this simply scatters them to the four winds.
Posted on: Sun, 03 Nov 2013 06:46:09 +0000
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