Mourning the dead is not part of ancient death rituals; they are meant to diffuse grief and encourage sharing of happy memories, writes NARAYANI GANESH
When a dear one passes on and leaves her mortal coils behind, there is much grief and weeping; and a period of mourning is observed. This kind of sadness ritual is not truly traditional; it is more of a recent phenomenon that has grown with the focus shifting from the collective to the individual. The individual, who cries more for herself rather than for the departed, as she will miss her presence in her life. For, the one who has gone, is in fact liberated, so it is more in order to send her off with a smile, and in the process, celebrate her freedom from suffering.
When the body dies, consciousness that is pure, eternal and infinite is still around. As Sage Ashtavakra points out to King Janak — when a pot breaks, it is only the shell that disintegrates, while the space within is very much there, becoming a part of universal space and consciousness. Which is why those cultures that have retained their traditions, celebrate, rather than mourn death. In Mexico, Dia de los Muertos, the Day of the Dead, is a national holiday, dedicated to remembrance of the departed. Family members sit together and share happy memories and offer the deceased’s favourite food and drink at an altar. Ngaben is a Buddhist ceremony in Bali, Indonesia, that is performed on similar lines. The Bon religion or Yungdrun Bon, predates Buddhism and is still followed in some parts of Japan and Tibet; here, too, death is treated as something to be celebrated. The rituals last three days, when near and dear ones meet and greet each other, clean the graves of their ancestors and share fond remembrances.'
From the perspective of many wisdom traditions, death is seen as the ultimate moment for the complete liberation of mind from all entanglements, all sorrows and all separateness, says Zen teacher Joan Halifax. Since death of the body enables individual consciousness to merge with the infinite universal consciousness, it is seen as a liberating experience rather than as something devastating to grieve over.
From a scientific point of view, when the body dies, it decays and merges with the elements, its atoms now free-floating to assume any shape and size. The same goes for ashes after cremation. Again, it is the principle of the micro merging with the macro, and those who believe in rebirth say that the soul houses itself in a new life, to live in the material world once again.
Logically, speaking of atoms, one could assume that the rebirth need not necessarily be in human form; it could be in another species or even objects. A recent WhatsApp message talked of how we are dust, and unto dust we return, and therefore, “I do not dust as it could be my grandma!” That’s a funny way to look at death and rebirth, reminding us that rather than be sad and miserable, it is much more fun to celebrate and be joyous, looking at the larger picture.
Conversing with a dejected Arjun on the battlefield at Kurukshetra, Krishn in the second chapter of the Bhagwad Gita, explains to the young warrior that death is certain for those who are born; similarly, birth is also certain for those who die. So there is really no cause for grief. “Weapons do not cut the Self, fire burns it not; water wets it not and wind dries it not. The Self cannot be cut, burnt, wetted or dried. It is eternal, all-pervasive, stable, immovable and ancient. The Self is unmanifested, unthinkable and unchangeable. So why grieve?”
In the Yog Vasisht, Sage Vasisht explains to Prince Ram that we are “like the sky”, for consciousness is space, “unborn, undying, eternal.” So why feel intimidated by death? Birth and death are simply different states; transcend them and you will feel blissful.
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Read more on ‘The Joy of Death’ at https://www.speakingtree.in/category-list/the-joy-of-death
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