Off Park Circus in Calcutta, down Zakaria Road, lies a Hindu cemetery. (Yes, some Hindus do get buried, not cremated.)
That’s where He was buried exactly 13 years ago, to this day.
His father didn’t even see His face, just held the little lifeless bundle, lost to the family, wrapped in cloth. Joy turned into almost instant, inexplicable despair.
Nor did he go to the graveyard. He couldn’t. The boy hadn’t survived more than 20 minutes after His birth. But the living needed looking after.
So the father didn’t bury Him; His uncles did.
Was it Billy Joel who sang “Only the good die young”?
Try explaining this to His grandmother, whose birthday it also is today. Or to the wife who carried him within her all those nine months?
That’s where He was buried exactly 13 years ago, to this day.
His father didn’t even see His face, just held the little lifeless bundle, lost to the family, wrapped in cloth. Joy turned into almost instant, inexplicable despair.
Nor did he go to the graveyard. He couldn’t. The boy hadn’t survived more than 20 minutes after His birth. But the living needed looking after.
So the father didn’t bury Him; His uncles did.
Was it Billy Joel who sang “Only the good die young”?
Try explaining this to His grandmother, whose birthday it also is today. Or to the wife who carried him within her all those nine months?
Tell me, Mr Joel: if the good do die young, is it the bad that die old?
1 comment:
All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost.
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken:
The crownless again shall be king.
~ verse on Ellesar and Anduril (Return of the King, JRR Tolkien)
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