Written in stone, literally
When I was little, I wondered about the pictures of people appearing in the obituary section. Every morning, my grandfather and uncles would check out the page. When someone known to them died and their photo appeared in the obituary, the sad news spread like wildfire among their inner circle. Soon, everyone would gather at the home of the dead to pay their last respects. Once, when I asked a granduncle engrossed in the newspaper what he was up to, he joked, “Just making sure I’m not listed in the obituaries.”
Obituary pages are typically dull and sad, like this tearjerker: ‘I was given the gift of life, and now I have to give it back.’ An obituary that appeared in The New York Times following the death of Princess Diana read, ‘Princess Diana, who was beloved yet troubled by her crown,’
The epitaph inscribed on the Kohima War cemetery dedicated to the soldiers of the Second British Division of the Allied Forces who perished in the Second World War in Nagaland’s capital would make anybody’s eyes moist: ‘When you go home, tell them of us and say, for your tomorrow, we gave our today.’
Not all obituaries are tearjerkers. Some elicit a smile or even a chuckle: ‘Here lies good old Fred. A great big rock fell on his head,’ ‘It does my heart a world of good to see you in a box of wood,’ ‘Old Ma Walker, non-stop talker, ran out of breath, talked herself to death,’ or ‘Don’t laugh, you’re next.’
The obits and epitaphs are as old as the hills, and one can gather the history of an area, a community, and the dead by reading them. Collecting epitaphs and obits is also an exciting hobby for some. I have also read stories of individuals having a marker inscribed while still alive and kicking.
The epitaphs on the tombstones are your last words, and they’re literally written in stone.
Today, we do not confine the obits and epitaphs to humans alone but also to pet animals and birds. Hundreds of pet cemeteries are dedicated worldwide to our best friends from the animal kingdom. Many cities, like Bengaluru, even boast of private burial grounds for pets.
A moving epitaph at a pet cemetery in Kengeri in Bengaluru says, ‘You are the son of a family.’ Yet another reads, ‘Our beloved daughter.’ They lay bare the deep sorrow and anguish of losing a pet to illness or accident.
Sometime back, while flipping through the pages of a local daily, it shocked me when I came across a familiar face on the obituary page. The photograph was of a dear classmate who perished in a car crash. He was at the wheel one moment, and the next, he was gone. The untimely death reminded me of the fragility of life and taught me to be grateful for every day we live.