Faruk Kader Brisbane occupies a special place in my life in Australia, although I am settled in Sydney. I had two long term jobs in Brisbane: the first one spanned about two years and the last one, surprisingly, more than four and half years. In addition, I made a number of short personal trips to Brisbane. My last trip to Brisbane was short but a truly memorable one, which I would like to talk about. On 21st April, I flew to Brisbane on a morning flight and straightway reached Zahirul Alam, my dear friend in Brisbane, who played host to my visit. Later in the day, I was invited by him to see an ex Filipino colleague, a father grieving on the death of his youngest son of 15 years. The father and his family were in the middle of the funeral ceremony of the dead son in accordance with their protestant Christian faith. Initially, I didn’t feel comfortable about my friend’s idea: who wants to be in the midst of a mournful atmosphere while on a friendly visit! My friend was already committed to make this visit, as well as I had nothing in particular to do. So, I agreed to accompany him. On the face, I pretended to show my interest, while hiding my inner uneasiness. Later on, after soul searching, I reached the conclusion that this visit for me was quite a remarkable one and the impression from this visit is most likely to stay with me for a long time. I knew Zahirul had the spontaneity to come to the help of suffering souls, whenever he came across. This time it was no different. It is so much natural about him!  We met the Filipino colleague at the entrance to the funeral house, which was assisting the colleagues’ family in conducting the funeral ceremony of the deceased. Zahirul hugged his colleague with his over-arching pair of hands. I did hug, but with some degree of tentativeness, for obvious reason. The colleague demonstrated remarkable poise and calm, with fleeting moments of sadness. I thought he was coming to terms with passing away of his son. The dead-body of the Filipino colleague’s 15 years old son was kept in the auditorium of the funeral house for the relatives and friendly family members to have a last glimpse of the deceased. The dead-body was resting in a shining painted wooden Mahogany casket on a table. The body was clothed in with a black suit-tie outfit that was wrapped around with a white robe. Nestled in the casket, he was like sleeping absolutely peacefully with all the time in eternity. As if he was suggesting to us: Do your job whatsoever, please don’t wake me up from this bliss I am enjoying now. Two big flower bouquets were adorning the tops of two stands on both sides of the table. On the left side, a half size photo of the smiling boy, surrounded by a ring of glowing wax-pots, was put on a high but small sized table. The smiling face of the boy, awash with the glows of melting wax, symbolically captured the essence of the life this boy had. A slow-burning incense stick at one corner and a soft music hardly audible added to the sanctity of the atmosphere. In the auditorium prevailed absolute harmony between mortal life and the life beyond. Everything was set to accord a farewell to the departing soul ready for the journey into the eternal life. We met the boy’s mother and her other children, the elder son and a daughter – they were joined by two cousins. They were present beside the casket to attend to the visits of relatives and friends. The boy’s mother was distraught by the grief, but the signs of initial trauma were wearing off, I thought. Her inner turmoil and grief made little reflection on her face. Her teen aged children were twittering occasionally among themselves, while casually browsing their smart phones. We came to know this boy had a birth-defect with his heart. His disparate father after spending a fortune of money and making a life’s choice of migrating to Australia to find a cure for son, finally came to the realization that there was no permanent cure after all. The boy was living on borrowed time and the family accepted the reality that the flicker of life in him could be extinguished any time. Actually that’s what happened. Last week the boy just collapsed after coming from school. All the efforts of the family members and the paramedic staff of the ambulance called into action could not revive him and he was declared dead on arrival at the hospital. I was curious to know the cost of arranging the funeral ceremony. When asked, the boy’s father presented us a costing sheet that showed the different components of the cost. The total cost was more than $8,000, which included the cost of burial land at the cemetery. I was aware of such funeral services, now I was looking at the whole range of services that a funeral service agency can offer. Zahirul all through our time with the deceased’s family was consoling them with his natural flair, punctuated with words of advice, sometime reminiscing his association with the colleague in the past. I refrained from consoling, because I thought I was not qualified to do that just by the merit of this brief acquaintance with this Filipino family man. I attentively listened to the intimate conversation between Zahirul and this man, which went beyond the boy’s life and touched on a range of aspects of daily life and work. In between I politely offered few comments and nods. I was looking at the boy’s face from time to time. The peace emanating from his face moved me beyond my imagination. Gradually, a sense of calm got hold of me. I was wondering which one should be coveted more: the comfort and gratification of mortal life or the infinite peace beaconed from the life beyond! When we said goodbye to the colleague, Zahirul and I hugged him again. This time I was resolute in my hug to convey silently my appreciation about his calm and composure in coping with the loss of his son. On the way back, a realisation came to me, while pondering over life and death.  When a life is extinguished by the gust of the flaying wings of angle of death descending on earth, we can only mourn our loss. The departed soul is rewarded with a peace for which he might have craved about for his whole mortal life. We the mortal beings can sense the blissful state of being of a soul just departed, but we don’t know what lies ahead. Time to time we witness the battle of dominance between life and death. We endear life over death, but death always brings us momentarily face to face with the reality of life. The boy’s serene face would no doubt dwell in my heart for many years to come. Faruk Kader, Sydney |
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Home Page Published on: 20-May-2015 
