Malavika’s Mumbaistan: Prayers For Her Departed Soup

Remember those days? When the death of a loved one meant that right on top of the list of tasks for organising their final passage into the great unknown, was that you had to inform their family, friends and the general public at large of their demise in the classified section of the next day’s newspapers

It’s always challenging to write about bereavement and loss, more so, at times like these, when everyone has felt the immeasurable grief of losing loved ones. After all, death is the great unifier and the universal condition, and who amongst us is not familiar with its pain? But I wonder if I’m the only one who notices the piquancy (and often inadvertent hilarity) of bereavement, in the time of social media and how different things were in this department in the days before its arrival.

It’s always challenging to write about bereavement and loss, more so, at times like these, when everyone has felt the immeasurable grief of losing loved ones. (Sudhit Shetty)

Remember those days? When the death of a loved one meant that right on top of the list of tasks for organising their final passage into the great unknown, was that you had to inform their family, friends and the general public at large of their demise in the classified section of the next day’s newspapers?

Of course, how you went about this task was up to you. The announcement could be discreet, florid, stoic, expansive or expensive, depending on your personality, relationship with the deceased, size of your wallet etc; but the message was the same: So, and so had passed on, to the great beyond. They would be sorely missed. You could come and pay your last respects at this stipulated place and time (unless you cited the forbidding no visits, please) and that was it more or less when it came to the public face of your grieving. Because a few days later, after people had trooped in offered their commiserations and condolences, you were expected to fold away your grief along with your mourning face and clothes and begin the process of getting back to your normal existence, nursing your desolation in privacy.

But no, thanks to Zuck and Co. and their shiny new toys, today, it doesn’t end there.

Today, thanks to social media one’s grieving can go on ad nauseam. So, you have people marking the first anniversary of their loved one’s passing, then the second and third ...to the 50th…. This in itself would not be remarkable, until you realize that the usual practice to do this is by addressing them directly in the posts. (Eg: Dearest Dad. You have left a great void in my heart that will never be filled.’ Or ‘ Ravi my childhood friend, I just want to say that I still miss you twenty-three years after your passing. BTW yaar: I’m sorry for stealing your science notebook and then your business idea and GF (who is my wife now). Hope you’re happy up there. Love you forever.’)

I often wonder what people think when they post such heartfelt messages to those who have left for their final resting places. Do they imagine that an afterlife is a place that has good Wi-Fi connectivity and that its inhabitants all have Facebook accounts, which they check regularly? And what about others who post messages to their much-adored deceased pets? (‘Silky, there will always be a place in my heart for you.’ And ‘ Dearest Fido, how I miss you!!’) Do they do this in the belief that Silky and Fido have not only learnt to read after they died, but also have FB accounts and check their timelines?

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Of course, one of the most important parts of processing grief and coming to terms with personal loss is through community support and there is no denying that for this, social media is invaluable. Before its advent, loved ones were missed in private moments through the course of one’s day; a song, a fragrance, a memory would occur perhaps while we were sipping tea and a silent tear would begin to roll down. But today, before the tear is halfway down our cheek, we can share this feeling with our friends and family on social media and receive their almost instantaneous love and empathy in good measure. Of course, your post will call upon them to appropriately (and sensitively) respond to your lamentation with messages of comfort and commiseration. Sentences like ‘He/She is in a better place/ They will always be with you… etc.’ are expected and imparted. Orr, perhaps they will respond with an appropriately empathetic emoticon. (The popular choice is the ‘care’ emoticon, followed by a decorous Namaste and accompanied by a single, solemn rose (Though it’s best to avoid a whole bouquet or a hug as they might convey jocularity).

However, social media has brought inadvertent hilarity to even this aspect of bereavement thanks to the devil in its system –that vexatious ingredient of all modern communication: Spellcheck.

In the saddest moments of a person’s grieving, it is not unknown for their friends and family to blithely post messages that cannot but evoke in them a secret giggle or even a hearty belly laugh.

Messages such as ‘Sending heartfelt prayers for her departed soup’ or even ‘I’m Shanti. I’m Shanti.’ (instead of Om Shanti) in response to your post about your much-adored octogenarian mum having passed on, are not unknown.

Of course, the other peculiar aspect that social media has brought to the business of bereavement and dying is the fact that we have to regularly deal with the unfamiliar and often searing loss of people we’ve never met. People with who we laughed jousted and shared our innermost thoughts and private moments daily. One fine morning we wake up and learn that they’ve copped it; how does one process this loss in the real world? Especially in the company of people you live and work with who perhaps had no clue how deeply you felt for the deceased person, who not only had you never met but had no intention of ever meeting? Is there a name for this kind of bereavement and sadness? And if not, isn’t it time social scientists/psychiatrists/ anthropologists and sundry navel-gazers study this peculiar impact of social media ‘s ubiquity?

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So, as I was saying the omnipresence of social media has brought much piquancy (and often hilarity) into the way we process and deal with loss and bereavement: Not only has it led us to believe that our dear departed loved ones regularly log on and read the loving messages we send them on our social media platforms. But also, that our adored deceased pets have somehow learnt to read,( this, after spending their entire lives on earth not being able to master a simple command like ‘ Sit’) and are also checking their social media accounts. Also, it has given us emoticons to express how deeply we care and has brought us the peculiar unfamiliar pain of losing people we have never met.

But above all it has given us that timeless phrase, that never fails to bring a giggle to even the most despondent soul in their hour of suffering the loss of a loved one: ‘ May they RIP’ …