Mom! When will you come back?
Chandran was puzzled to see a middle aged lanky woman sitting in the elevated platform in
front of his communist party office building. She was gasping for breath. There was a youth
sitting by her.
She carried a letter from the Secretary of the Communist Party in Tirunelveli district. The
message was brief. “The bearer of the letter is Parameswari, a tuberculosis patient in
advanced stage. Upon knowing of her illness, her husband deserted her to fate and
absconded. She was left with her seven year old son and no penny in hand. The neighbours
took her to the District Government Hospital where she was advised to go to Tuberculosis
Hospital in Asaripallam, Kanyakumari District. Please do the needful.”
Parameswari murmured feebly “before I left for Nagercoil, my seven year old son asked me “
Mom! When will you come back? I promised him to come back soon. Shall I be cured?”
‘You will be alright. I know doctors well.” He assured her. He took her to the Government
hospital first as it was already very late. In T B Hospital admission was normally closed by 6
p m.
The next day he went to take her and admit in the TB Hospital. But she was dead.
He signed the legal documents and claimed the body. He and his close comrade, Sathasivam
decided to purchase a low cost coffin available in a coffin shop in front of the St. Xavier’s
Church in Kottar market.
Both comrades bundled the body inside the coffin and proceeded towards the greatest
crematorium located on the northern side of Kothaigramam village in Ozhuginasery.
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The funeral procession had only two members – Chandran, the communist party cadre
holding the front part of the coffin on his shoulder and his comrade Sathasivam, the back part
of the coffin. While they reached just a few meters before the Meenakshipuram bus stand,
tragedy struck the woman once again. The right side of the coffin opened and the body of
Parameswari fell down with a thud in front of a popular jewellery shop in Avvai Shanmugam
Road.
The busy traffic screeched to a halt temporarily and the commuters frowned at the corpse
either with disdain or with fear. But none displayed a sense of pity or sympathy over the
corpse called Parameswari. Controlling the emotions, both comrades worked out another low
cost strategy to proceed further. Chandran purchased a coconut fibre based rope, thrust the
body inside the coffin and tied the rope around it tightly.
By the time both comrades were almost exhausted and tired. But the human suffering
strengthened their spirits and nerves. The funeral procession moved in a snail pace towards
the destination but the comrades were then not aware of the inhuman face of caste system
awaiting them in the crematorium.
Finally the procession reached Kumari Anzhai which was the name of the crematorium.
When they reached the first crematorium, they were astonished to find a pole with a name
plate on which it was inscribed Vellalar chudukaadu (chudukaadu means crematorium and
the word Vellalars denoted a particular dominant caste community.)
“Iyya! What caste?” queried the Vettiyan – the one who cremates the body.
Chandran was not prepared for this inhuman query. He explained patiently the tragic death of
Parameswari and declared that she was an orphan to elicit sympathy from the heart of the
Vettiyan who stood unmoved by the heart rendering story.
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Vettiyan replied with a diplomatic but determined voice; “Iyya if you have documents to
prove that the body belonged to this caste,” he pointed out the sign board,” then only the
body is eligible to enter inside. If you don’t have the caste certificate, go to other
crematoriums. If I allow you to cremate without valid documents, I will be dismissed from
my job”
Both comrades were shell shocked over the reply of the Vettiyan. But there was no other go.
So they knocked the poles of many crematoriums belonging to different castes with no
success. No hearts melted to the tragic plight of Parameswari.
“What to do with Parameswari?” Chandran murmured feebly unto himself but with pain in
his tone. To him it was not a body but a dignified woman.
Sathasivam finally suggested that they excavate a long hole on the left side of the bund along
the tiny brook running by the side of the crematorium and insert Parameswari inside.
Chandran took a long but strong piece of wood from one of the nearby crematorium and
started excavating soil from the left side wall of the brook. It was four feet above the brook.
Finally they were able to cave in six feet length and two feet wide space inside the wall. They
placed carefully the coffin inside the space and covered the excavated area with mud so that
nobody could see the coffin.
Chandran said “Comrade! I am worried about the seven year old child. This woman” pointing
out at the buried coffin, “assured the child that she would come back after the treatment. Who
could compensate the love and affection of a mother?”
Chandran murmured bitterly “Karl Marx once made remark about religion. Have you heard
it?” Sathasivam nodded affirmatively. Ignoring that Chandran continued “ Religion is the
opium of the people. It is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world,
and the soul of our soulless conditions.” He paused for a moment and continued “He would
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not have made this comment had he been born in India. See! The religion demands caste
certificate for a dead body. Caste dehumanizes its own people and religion sanctifies the
inhuman caste system”
The agonising words of Parameswari was ringing in his ears; “ Mom! When will you come
back?”