The business of death
I attended a funeral today. Not someone I know of personally, but I attended the whole proceeding anyway. The whole morning was spent listening to really loud music. If you’ve seen lion dance during Chinese New Year, it’s louder than that.
I was struggling to stay awake despite the loud music. The man in costume was rattling off verse after verse of incomprehensible sentences, well, to me they were greek anyway, although even greek i can understand some alphabets from my mathematics days. I doubt a lot of people understood, or were listening to the man speak. He’s got a microphone attached, which together with the music, made quite a loud ensemble. It all looked very routine to him and his team, but the family of the deceased thinks otherwise. I guess the routine helped the family go through the day without emotions seizing them up.
Noon time came, and it was time for the body to finally make its way to the crematorium, as requested before she died. We, together with the coffin, walked around the housing estate as part of a farewell journey. After 2km or so, the coffin was then transported to a crematorium which was about 20 minutes away. There was a specially hired bus to ferry the rest of us.
The crematorium is a very modern place, not what I expect but then again, I haven’t been to one before. The building is clinically clean, and is very well sign-posted – viewing hall turn right, waiting hall turn left. It made the whole business of death so very precise and professional, just like another commercial venture. Judging from the look and the size of the building, I would guess that it’s quite a profitable business. I guess too much emotions are involved when the living are forced to decide on the financial matters to best send away the dead.
We were quickly ushered into a hall quite similar to a church with chairs on each side of the hall. The coffin is at the end of the hall, already put in place in a machine which will eventually be remote controlled and pushed into the burning place. The man in custome said a few final words, and then we were hurried into the viewing hall. I think all the hurrying is to make way for the next appointment, which was clearly shown on an electronic billboard at the entrance before we entered the building. It is a very well organised and well managed business.
And so we hurried into the viewing hall, with the immediate family standing closest to the glass window. The rest of us slotted into the remaining stands behind them. A couple of minutes later, as everyone is settled down, the coffin began to make its way across the hall into the fire. The viewing hall erupted with emotions. I can’t help but feel sad as well, with tears welling up as the mechanical pulley system coldly move the coffin into its final destination.
The doors to the fire room did not open until the coffin is near it, and when it finally did, the doors opened and the flames could be clearly seen from the outside. The roar in the viewing hall increased, crying out for the dead. Seeing the coffin being burnt gave a very painful feeling as well, as though my heart was being burnt together with the flames. And that was me speaking. Imagine what it felt like for the ones closed to her. The door didn’t remain open for very long, only a few seconds, which is probably a good thing. The door remained open long enough for the whole of the coffin to enter. As those doors were shut, we were promptly shown our door as well, to exit the building.
“If you come at 10am, you will be able to collect the ashes by 4pm. Since you’re here at noon, you can only collect it by tommorrow.”
That was the last instruction given by the management. We made our way out. I went to watch X-men 3. Life goes on…
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Category: Life around Us | Tags: business, management, thoughts 2 comments »
June 5th, 2006 at 1:47 am
[...] However, sometimes we require the opposite to make us feel better, or feel more in control of the situation. Like how the police will rattle off a report to his boss “accident at 0400 hours, one male aged 23 and one female aged 19, no fatal injury”. The police has effectively “mechanised” the way he speaks to his higher-ranking officer. This way of speaking provides a certain detachment to the current situation. Detachment is sometimes useful, especially when emotions are involved, like how a business mechanises the process of a funeral, mechanisation helps deal with death. [...]
October 4th, 2009 at 8:39 am
[...] a week going through the proceedings of my grandmother’s death, conducted very much like the business of death I wrote earlier. However, this time, I feel [...]