Funeral Road

 I walked behind quiet footsteps,
to the funeral of my friend’s mother,
where words grew thin
and silence knew no names.
 
Across the road, seen a chimney of
necropolis facing acropolis,
death and height staring at one another
like old philosophers
who already knew the answer.
 
Once, in ancient cities,
the necropolis slept at the edges,
a distant place for ashes and memory.
But here, in modern city of hassles,
it is vast, present, unavoidable
a city within the city.
 
Opposite it rises the acropolis of living days:
traffic, voices, unfinished plans,
people climbing toward tomorrow
without looking across the road.
 
Smoke lifts.
Prayers dissolve into air.
Life continues, stubborn and bright,
while death waits calmly,
never in a hurry.
 
What a coincidence, we say.
What a truth, life replies
those beginnings and endings
often live face to face,
and we are always
crossing the street between them.
 
~Dr Intaj Malek

(Written at Thaltej crematorium on the funeral of Hasumati Kamdar)