I’ve just returned from the funeral of my aunt-in-law, the centenarian aunt of my husband. This was the first time I’d attended a funeral at Chembur. The electric crematorium, though badly in need of paint, was clean. Patches of sunlight fell on the leafy compound and despite other mourners, there was none of the noise and crassness generally associated with the BMC. In fact it exuded an air of calm and quiet.

She was born well before World War 1 and had truly seen it all – the transition of an Empire, the birth of a new country,the emancipation of women, the breakdown of traditional society, the discovery of nuclear energy, the power of telecommunication and the evolution of thought over the last eighty years. While most of her contemporaries were long since gone, she did enjoy the company of those younger than her, especially that of her daughter who spent the last five years looking after her exclusively.

In fact it was her daughter’s devotion combined with her own good genes that really kept her going. As we condoled with the family, the daughter was calm and composed having come to terms with her mother’s imminent passing two weeks’ ago when she returned from a visit to the States. The daughter had hardly set foot in the US when her mother fell down and broke her hip. Despite several relatives telling her to continue staying in the States because her mother didn’t have a good chance of recovering she refused to listen to their well meaning advice , made the fourteen hour trip back as a middle aged lady because as she said : Even if my mother doesn’t make it, I want to cuddle her as long as I can.  

Last evening as the old lady breathed her last, her beloved daughter was there holding her hand and sharing her love as she said in a way only a daughter can.