Sunday, June 1, 2008

Obituary to Mr. K.K Khosla

(Based on true incident, the names have been changed for personal reasons)

Few months back I saw a fantastic movie called khosla ka ghosla, a movie about the plight of a typical Indian middle class person. The first scene of the movie shows Mr Khosla dreaming that he is dead and lying in front of his house, and all of his family and friends are ‘supposedly’ mourning over his dead body. The younger son, a scholar, and a private company employee, rushes to his office like a normal day. 0ffcourse his father death is of less significance for him, and it seems normal to everybody mourning there. The older son is busy asking one mourner about his watch and inquires about the whereabouts of the shop, and also for people references, repeats the incident of his father death like a tape in a typical ‘jat’ style. Khosla sahab’s partner in office looks more concerned about, “ pata nahi kaun be#$@*#od inki jagah aayega” and finally our dear Mr. Khosla wakes up from his dream.

The purpose of this long story was to justify my title. Something happened on very similar lines sadly not in my dreams but reality. I had to witness the sad demise of an extremely nice & caring person. For personal reasons I’d call him Mr khosla. I got a call that Mr khosla has passed away, and it really stirred me from within, not that it was totally unexpected (he was suffering from brain cancer) but still it was hard to believe that a good person like him was no more with us. I went his home and had to rush out of the house after looking at the person lying there like that, because it was impossible to keep myself in control. After standing there for some minutes, I found there was nothing much I could do as everything was being taken care of by his friend and family. So I went back home to return back at night when he was about to start his last journey to crematorium.

When I came back it was hours Mr. Khosla was dead, and the pain and shock of his death already seemed to fade out in his friend and distant relatives, now it was mere formality and a business like affair for people standing there. One Mr. Old saw me standing alone and started full fledged inquiry on me. Who are you? How do you know Mr Khosla? What do you do? Which all companies come to your campus? I felt as if Mr. Old was looking for a perfect match for some girl he knew, thankfully the last query was, “what is your cast?” and when he came to know I was kayastha and not Brahmin, instantly he shifted his attention, away from me. Cast is still a very important in our nation especially for arranged marriage. Soon Mr. Old found another “Brahmin, foreign return software engineer” in the vicinity so he had his new prospect anyway. Next was Mr. X, whose common question to all was”Kitne din tak allowed hai government quarter mein rehna inki family ka” after all the location was on prime land of Delhi. Amidst all these, Mr. Khosla’s last ride was ready with all garlands and flower followed by a brief photographic session by some young lads, may be for some memento purposes (thanks to the latest mobicams which they successfully swanked). “Thora baju hatna please”, “thora upar se angle le, puri body aa jaayegi”. Anyways we all left for the crematorium and it was cold night river side place of Delhi, the chandaal arrived and all the last rites were done properly and the deceased was handed over to the all accepting fire god and Mr. Khosla mixed in the five elements where he came from. The fire was increasing over the pyre gradually and some common comments around were “kitna time lagega yaar pura jalne mein” “kafi late hoga lagta hai” ”hum zara pehle minibus mein nikal lenge”“kyaa achhi aag lagai hai” ”ye banda expert hai body jalane mein ha ha ha ha” for a moment I felt like saying, ok man why don’t you book him (the chandaal) for yourself in advance?? It was 2 AM by now and all those who are unaware of the winter nights of Delhi, let me tell you, they can really run shivers in your spine. Within a moment everybody was shivering as it was damn cold and soon everyone’s attention shifted to the huge source of heat nearby, soon survival instincts took over the social etiquettes and everybody stood around the pyre to get rid of the cold. It was 3 AM and now everyone started enquiring hush hush about the private mini bus and very soon the people including me left the place, people left behind were immediate family of Mr. Khosla and his son’s very good friends. Anyways I had to leave; I had my paper very next day. Some more comments in the bus were “yaar ye electric wala funeral system kaise kaam karta hai” the reply, “tu apna heater rakh ke dekh hoo haaa haaa haa” and our dear Mr X was still inquiring about the duration left for Khosla family in the flat, adding to it “kitna hoga GPF mein” “ladka pass hua inka” “arre inka to apna ghar bhi hai kahi”……. Dude this person was alive and a colleague of yours only some hours ago, what the…..

Mr khosla was one the best person I knew. He and his family brought me back from a very serious condition last year. I will always be indebted to him and his family, I owe my life to them, and they were like my family when I was away from home. Mr. Khosla was a very helping, far sighted and extremely good human being. The person was helping people even after his death to get rid of the cold. I think the creator could not stay away, for long form one of his best creation, so he called back Mr. Khosla so early. When my father broke the news of his sad demise, he told me, that I should not make a difference between him (my father) and Mr. Khosla and thats very true, Mr. Khosla was like my father. I and all those who truly liked and loved him will miss him for sure

Lastly a request from the core of my heart, have some heart…..you may not feel the same as the other person, but there are times when you can watch out for your actions and statements. If I, a total outsider felt so enraged, think about the good friends and family of Mr. Khosla who were shocked and sad then, how could have they felt hearing all these statements. Death is not a happy social gathering; there are people around who have genuine feelings for the deceased and if you cannot console them, atleast please stay quite….