The Last Rites

 When I saw photographs of Mandira Bedi at her husband’s funeral, it was her grief that I first noticed. Every inch of her body was weighed down with sorrow, and it was sheer will-power that was pushing her forward to do what needed to be done. Looking at her waif like body in the androgynous tee shirt, it was hard to believe she was a mother herself, and yet, it was to shield her son from the trauma of conducting his father’s last rites that she was pushing herself. As a mother, I could empathise.

As a woman, I also realised that though it not her intention to make a statement, she certainly sent out a strong message to other women- they too could conduct funeral rites.

Rituals don’t matter much to me, but I know women who have fought members of their extended family to be permitted to conduct the last rites of their parents. Some were able to do so, many not. Mandira Bedi’s action will make it easier for others.

But is it enough?

Should the struggle be against Patriarchy which does not consider women the equal of men? If yes, what Mandira Bedi did will be a big affirmation- women less privileged than she is can now demand their right to conduct the last rites of the family members they are close to.

But is that the real fight? Shouldn’t the real struggle be against Brahminical Patriarchy which requires that funeral rituals which can only be performed in the presence of a Brahmin priest?

During the peak of the COVID crisis, we heard of cremation workers who (in the absence of priests) conducted the last rites of people.

Now that things are back to normal, will the same cremation workers continue to be assigned the task or will the privilege be taken away?

When my grandmother passed away, my grandfather declared that no rituals will be conducted because she doesn’t need a Brahmin priest to intercede on her behalf.

Wouldn’t that be a much more meaningful victory if we can normalise funerals without the rituals?