All in a day's work

My friend's dad died yesterday.

I was at a wedding in the morning. When I heard the news I was headed towards office. Why should my life have been affected at all? It was going on normally.

I worked in office till 6 and then went for the funeral. By the time I reached there, they had finished all the last rites. The body was lying in the assembly hall outside the electric cremation chamber. A lot of people were standing around it. My friend was going through the motions. I thought he looked pretty composed but it was probably the alertness of not making a mistake in doing something he was doing for the first time in his life.

They picked up the body and took it inside. All of us trooped in. They placed it on a big iron carriage on rails that went into the furnace. The door of the furnace was open. For a second I remembered the big toasters in hotels at the breakfast spreads. You keep a slice of bread on the moving grill and watch it slowly go into the heat. I am always scared of these contraptions. I feel I will burn my hand every time I gingerly place the slice on the moving grill.

By this time, all was done. The only thing that remained was to push the body into the furnace. They asked my friend to place a hand on the lever and the attendants then pushed it into the fire. All of us watched fascinated. It went inside like the slice of bread. And in the couple of seconds until the door clanged shut, we saw the body catch fire. It sort of exploded into flames. His burning toes was the last that all of us saw of my friend's dad.

The finality of the sight and the gruesome nature of the end broke my friend down. There was the usual crying, hugging, patting. I just stood there and watched it all.

I then went and met his mother and sister at their home. Held their hands. Didn't cry. Hugged them and told them to take care. Then came home. Had a shower. Had dinner. And went back to office.

We are working on an important new business presentation.