Death and Death Ceremonies

Amma passed away on 16^th August, 2008 at 8.15 pm; a black moment of unutterable sorrow for all of us.

Though Anand was very brave at the moment of pronouncement of death by the doctor who had come home with the ambulance, and told me ‘let her go’, later on he also grieved a lot. After all the ceremonies were over, when it was time for him to go to office, he missed his usual ritual……

Anand : Amma, Nanu hogi barutteni

Amma : Have a nice time

Anand : Yenu nice time? Nanu office hoguttaidini

But that was quintessential Amma. She told me to see the positive side of everything. Even when I used to drink tea [innumerable cups], she would say ‘Savor every sip, enjoy every moment’.

Every morning, she would ask me what day it was [she was disoriented due to being in bed all the time , and with so many chemicals being pumped into her, it was a miracle how she was so alert, radiant and cheerful], and on being told Monday, Tuesday….. she would say something about the presiding god of the day. Monday was for Shiva [Tryambakam yajamahay suganthim pushtivardhanam…] , Tuesday was Mangalvaara so devoted to the Divine Mother [Sarva Mangal Maangalye….], Wednesday [Devaru namma yellarigu Sadbuddhi kodli…], Thursday was Guru’s day [Gurur Brahma, Gurur Vishnu, Guru Devo Maheswara….. Pooojyaya Raghavendraya Satya Dharma Vrataya Cha…… Saieeshwaraya Vidmahe Satya Devaya Dheemahi….. Datta Datta Jaya Guru Govinda, Dattatreya Parama Ananda….], Friday was Lakshmi’s day…. I would tell her ‘you are Lakshmi’ (her actual name was Lakshmidevi and Umadevi was her pen name) and she would counter with ‘alla, neene namma mane Lakshmi’ and go on to chant …

Lakshmeem Ksheer samudra raaj tanayaam

Shri ranga Dhameshwari

Daasi Bhootha Samasata Deva Vanithaam

Lokaika deepaam kuraam,

Srimanmanda Kataaksha Labdha Vibhava

Brahmendra Gangaadharam

Tvaam Trailokya Kutumbineem

Sarasijaam Vande Mukunda Priyaam

Maata Cha Paarvati Devi

Pitaa Devo Maheshvara

Baandhavah Shiva Bhaktaacha

Svadesho Bhuvanatrayam

When Amma breathed her last, it was as if a cheery, chirpy bird had been silenced.

To me, Amma was

1. a friend with whom I could share anything from jokes to spiritual thoughts
2. a radio, on which the channels would get switched as the situation demanded, from old film songs [perennial favourites were Ramaiyya Vasta Vaiya and Doni Saagli munde hogali, door teerava serali], to neighbourhood gossip which she had just heard from one of her friends, to discussion on the Vedas!
3. my guru, whom I could consult on which prayer is appropriate for specific occasions, or the meaning of rituals [most of us Hindus, and especially we Brahmins, carry out rituals or follow tradition without knowing why we do it, but Amma had scant regard for meaningless rituals, and deep respect for those which were significant]
4. a pretty lady whom I could “show off” to my friends who came home
5. a mother who would prepare delicacies for me [and indeed, for all of us] according to my taste and look on in delight when I ate it appreciatively . I now regret that very often I would hastily gulp down food and rush off to office, or to bhajan or for some seva of mine.

Now, the house is very quiet [though Anand has bought World Space Radio to compensate] and there is no chirpy voice enquiring “bandiya ma?…. Hello , dear”.

Amma was very articulate and hospitable. Neighbours still speak of her concern for all of them – one neighbour used to get all magazines, with special articles marked out; one neighbour whose daughter had jaundice got advice on the soppu to eat; anyone with minor medical problems used to be visited by amma, with a list of curative herbs they could eat, as well as other natural remedies.

In the last year of Amma’s life, I restricted visitors for two reasons. One, visitors coming to visit patients, touch them without washing their hands even though they have just pushed the front gate open, opened doors, removed buckle on their shoe, or touched other surfaces touched by many others and create a risk of infection. Two, Amma being a talkative person, could hold anybody’s interest with her witty conversation [never once would she touch upon her illness, unlike other patients who air their grievances and sorrow to all who come to see them], and the visitors would stay on for a long time, causing severe strain to Amma. Though I had only Amma’s health in mind, now I wish I could have allowed her to socialize to her heart’s content….. in any case, I never had time to spend on talking [I was always caught up in my nursing care, feeding, cleaning] and Amma, though broken in body, was mentally alert and needed the stimulation of conversation.

When she passed away, suddenly it dawned on us that we would have to perform the death rituals, a most unpleasant task, without knowing the meaning [if she were around, she would have guided us]…. Everyone merely parrots instructions without knowing the significance, while we were brought up by Amma to do things with the deep understanding of why were doing so.

We were told ‘no going to temples for one year’…’no rangoli in front of the house’. And many such well meaning advice….. only on contacting very senior priests of big temples, and reading Garuda Purana and Hindu scriptures on the internet, did we understand the significance of what we were doing.

The ceremonies are mainly geared towards offering to the dead soul [called ‘preta’ and not ‘atma’ for the first ten days because the astral body is created over ten days after the burning of the physical body]…. The body was burnt, so cooling water is poured on the ‘shila’ representing the deceased person. Black til [yallu] is offered as til oil is cooling to the body. Various daanas [offerings] like umbrella [to shelter the soul from the scorching heat], vastra [to cover the body], chappals [for the soul to walk without hurting her feet], are necessary for the soul.

The sixteen ceremonies [maasikas] are necessary as the soul travels in the astral space and needs sustenance across its journey. What we consider the whole year is one day [Uttarayana] and one night [Dakshinayana] for the soul.

Death of the very old is not a matter of sorrow [according to sages], as it comes as a release for the tired, the sick, the worn out body, the body whose limbs are aching…… we only go from one room to another. “in my father’s mansion, there are many rooms’, one of the rooms is the earth plane. Our dear ones who have passed away, are not dead. They have moved on through the door of death to another world and their blessings are always with us, guiding us through our troubled moments.

We should always remember our dear departed ones in our prayers, everyday and do little deeds of service in their name.

Amma's story

1. 
   Lakshmidevi was born on 5th May, 1927, at Shimoga city, to Venkatasubbiah and Venkamma. Shimoga was the residence of Venkamma’s parents : Anantiah and ‘ammanakka’. Former was an advocate, well known. Had some lands; large house (larger than Mysore home of amma’s father, Venkamma’s husband].
   
   Amma’s grandfather’s house was a large one. It had a large room, with sloping wooden steps, where mangoes were laid out in summer, to ripen. Her grandmother would make cauldron of ‘seekarne’ [mango pulp, milk and sugar]. Amma’s young brother, Seenu, was very fond of sweets, and would eat even jaggery. His teeth fell out at an early age [amma would remember this often in 2007, while she was bed ridden, and giggle remembering the past].
   
   Venkatasubbaiah was a lecturer in Bangalore University [present day Mysore university]. Venkamma passed away at the age of thirty, when amma was only six years old. Amma and her siblings were taken away by grandmother to Shimoga, where they stayed for one year. Venkatasubbaiah married again after one year, and took the children with him to Bangalore. Venkatasubbaiah had a transferable job, which took him to Tumkur, then Bangalore, and finally Mysore. He taught Chemistry at Mysore University. .
   
   Amma’s stepmother’s name was Gangamma, and Venkatsubbiah called her Lalithamma. She looked after her stepchildren like her own; she never scolded them.
   
   Amma went to school till 5th form [high school of today]. Passed Lower Secondary exam, at the age of around 13. she could not appear for Higher Secondary Exam, as she got married. Ammakka insisted that her granddaughter get married soon, since she was worried as to what would happen to them in case her son, Venkatsubbaiah, died (his salary was only Rs.75/-).
   
   
   
   Appa’s paternal uncle .Narayanaswamy lived near ajja’s house. He suggested his nephew as a suitable match for amma. The wedding was duly solemnized, and celebrated over 5 days at Ajja’s house.
   
   Appa was a stenographer in Hindustan Aeronautic Limited [HAL], Bangalore. He lived in Karnik Road with brothers Seetharamu and Puttonu [Narsimhamurthy]. It was an ‘outhouse’ , a hall and single bedroom. Puttonu was unemployed, and a typical ‘loafer’, sitting around, doing nothing. He would eat first, before his brothers got home, and then add a handful of salt to the food, so that amma would be scolded by appa and others, for bad food.
   
   Amma’s first child was a still born girl. Next came twins, who did not survive beyond a few days. By the time of amma’s third pregnancy, she was very frail, so appa was advised by others to leave amma at her parental home in Mysore for delivery, fearing that amma would die and bring a bad name to her in-laws. So amma duly arrived at ajja’s home in Mysore. Then, before she delivered [this time, it was Nagendran, our eldest brother], appa was transferred to New Delhi.
   
   Amma was under the care of a doctor in Mission Hospital, Mysore. Amma credits him with saving her life, when she was carrying, and very frail. The doctor advised her to take calcium tablets, and eggs with milk, and a course of injections. He motivated her, saying that she would deliver a ‘bouncing boy’. His words came true, magically, and the ‘bouncing boy’ is still bounding around Arakere, full of energy. Nagendran was born in ajja’s house before the ambulance could take amma to the hospital. Mid wife had also been summoned. Amma’s grandmother , who was visiting her son in Mysore, also had been called, that early morning [5 am].
   
   Amma’s first published book was ‘Sanna Kathe Galu’ (1954). Masti Venkatesh Iyengar, who read some of her stories, was impressed with them and took the manuscript, saying he would publish them sometime. Amma did not take this seriously, as she had not even dreamt of publishing book. Some of her stories had appeared in some magazines, but that was it. She used a pen-name ‘Umadevi’ , so that people would not talk about her. Her mother in law was horrified at the thought of amma’s sister studying medicine, and would not take kindly to amma’s name or photo being published.
   
   One fine day, appa got a parcel through post, while he was at work. It contained 10 copies of ‘Sanna Kathe Galu’. Masti avaru was kind enough to publish the book, and told amma and appa to pick up as many copies of the book as they wanted when they visited Bangalore.
   
   ‘Sanna Kathe Galu’ was prescribed as a text book by Mysore Riyasat Hindi Prachar Sabha for two years
   
   Books
   Sanna Kathegalu – short stories (1954)
   Stotra Rathanakara (1958)
   Stotra Makaranda (1967)
   Surya Kanti (children’s stories) (1967)
   Kumbarana Adrushta (children’s stories) (1967)
   Minchu Gudugu (children’s stories) (1970)
   Adalu Badalu (translation of plays) (1975)
   Udaya Raga – collection of Prayers (1994)
   Idgah (translation of stories by Premchand) (1995)
   Utsava mattu itara kathegalu (1996)
   Anugraha (stories) (1999)
   Manga Muti (children’s stories) (1999)
   
   She received ‘H V Savitramma Memorial Award’ for 1995 from Karnataka Lekha Kriya Sangha, Bangalore.
   
   She was always frail and suffered from asthma, but the last three years of her life were defined by multiple ailments. She had enlarged heart (LVH) and her movements were severely restricted. During check up prior to cataract operation in December 2007, anemia was discovered. Repeated transfusions failed to stabilize haemoglobin level; she was diagnosed with multiple myeloma in February 2007. A fall in May 2007, led her to becoming bed ridden.
   
   Lalita became her care giver, refusing to employ a nurse. Only her dedicated care and knowledge of nursing, which she picked up, kept amma alive, I think.
   
   In spite of her suffering – she had constant pain due to cancer, and frequent episodes of infection, needing injections through IV line, for which to find a vein in the frail hand was a challenge – her face was radiant; she was always at peace and cheerful.
   Her wedding anniversary was always observed on Vara Mahalaxmi day, sixty sixth anniversary fell on 15 August 2008. She was too tired to let Lalita drape a saree for her.
   
   Amma succumbed to a heart attack in the evening of 16 August 2008, surrounded by her family, at home.