A Funeral

Kunjamma George was a quiet 85-year-old woman who lived down the hall from me in Chacko Homes. She was usually the first person to greet me in the mornings, as I had to walk by her always-open door to get to the dining room for breakfast. Later, in the afternoons, she would come out of her room to sit in the hallway and hope to catch a breeze. She never said much, but she always had a smile on her face.

Very early on Monday morning, without having suffered at all, Mrs. George took her last breath. This week, her nurse cleaned out her room, her children arrived from the U.S., and I attended my first Indian funeral.

This was a Christian funeral and was not all that different from what I expected. It began with a service in the chapel of Chacko Homes. There were songs, readings from the Bible, a sermon, and two speeches (one given by Mrs. George’s daughter and one given by a close family friend). There was also an opportunity to view the body, which lay peacefully in a wooden casket at the front of the chapel.

One notable difference was the flash of so many cameras throughout this little service. I had seen pictures of funerals when visiting other Indian friends, but it hadn’t occurred to me that this would be a photo opportunity. But if we look at the funeral as a glorious celebration of her life, rather than a somber time to say goodbye, camera flashes don’t seem so out of place.

When the chapel service ended after about an hour and a half, everyone headed to the church. Mrs. George’s casket was carried to the front while the congregation sang. A few words were spoken, and then the casket was carried out again.

From the church we went to the cemetery, which is just behind the church. Rather than laying Mrs. George in the ground, though, they laid her in a sort of mausoleum. After a few more words were spoken, her casket was placed into an open compartment. And when the congregation dispersed for tea (because there is always tea), the church groundskeepers cemented that compartment closed.

Although not something I necessarily wanted to experience during my time in India, I am glad that I was there. Kunjamma George will be missed by many, including me. But since she was ready to go and God was ready to take her, we have no choice but to say goodbye and celebrate her victory. That is what she would want us to do.