Where peace meets grief

Happened to go to the cemetery this weekend. Of the many Christian places of rest for the long forgotten and dead in Delhi, perhaps this one presents the most stark contrasts. Being situated in "Paharganj" notorious for its melee of crowds, noisy by lanes, hawk eyed street vendors, a mix of our own street junkies and fhirangs high on dope the cemetery stands out as an oasis in midst of a ravenous desert. Call it an anachronism in the present time and context.

The entrance to the cemetery is quite non descript and one will definitely miss it if one is new to this place. Its five to six feet wide entrance is flanked by two flower kiosks, the owners of which will jump in with their unsolicited sales pitch. Once you are inside the change in the surroundings hit you and soothe your frayed senses instantly. The cacophony, filth and claustrophobia that you experienced while walking down from "Panchkuan Road" gives way to some kind of tranquil sedation. The cemetery in itself is not very pristine in its aura, but the vast expanse of around 15 acres of space, interspersed with giant and sinewy old neems, banyans and jamun trees does feel like heaven for a while. You can even hear an odd koel perched on a branch somewhere. The 12 feet high walls surrounding the cemetery somehow seems to fight a battle to keep the city out of its sacred limits.

As I walked towards the grave of someone who I miss a lot and who has been instrumental in bringing me into this world, I passed a grave of a child. Alongside the grave were this young couple, probably in their early thirties, grieving the loss of their child. Since they did not have any kid with them I assume that they probably had lost their only child. The wife sat there arranging flowers on the grave so very lovingly, while the husband just looked around crushed and defeated. Try as I might, I haven't been able to erase the look on their faces till this very moment.

Its said that time is the greatest healer. In my case I have experienced that grief gradually gives way to a sense of inadequacy, like something is missing. I am young and have lot of things lined up, perhaps even the sense of loss will fade away one day. But when I spare a thought for the young couple at the cemetery, I think, "What if they don't have kids anymore? Will they ever get over their grief ?" Perhaps not.

I just wish them all happiness ...