Uthupetan’s Journey

As the procession inched up the hill towards the only church in town, some in Thokkupaara was mourning immensely.  The one-two chime indicated that a body is being taken up for the last rites and burial.  The main bell at the church had been ringing the same one-two combination since the previous evening indicating that a fearless soul has finished its journey on earth and is on its way to account for its deeds to the creator.  The constant chant, “This servant of yours ran as fast as he could; Lord have mercy on him; do not judge him harshly”, reflected the subliminal fear of the believers that Uthupu has to account for some bizarre deeds upon his arrival at Perlie Gate and also on the Day of Judgment when along with him billions arise from the dead and arrive at Yesopath’s Thazhvara (Valley of the dead). 

The procession had the customary silver cross in the front, followed by a golden cross.  A number of black flags carried by members of the Dersanam society appeared in the procession as an attempt to intercede with Jesus on Uthupu’s behalf.  Next came the few of the grieving public which consisted of a few of his acquaintances and drinking buddies from the local Toddy bar.  The caisson was next, followed by a couple of the reluctant priests, the entourage of curiosity minded towns people, and finally the grieving family.  The caisson, a rider-less bullock cart pulled by two black oxen added a surreal air to the procession.  A water buffalo tied to the back of the caisson with a digging iron mounted upside down on the back of the buffalo along with a Kaili (a plaid mundu worn by men involved in manual labor) symbolized a fallen ditch digger that shall not return.  Six posts inserted along the edges of the coffin held the casket lid about two feet above the body protecting it from the sun at the same time allowing the curious on-lookers on either side of the road to get one last glimpse at this giant of a ditch digger.  The caisson, a personnel carrier abandoned by the Pandy Sudras (the low caste foot soldiers from Tamil Nadu) in the war of 1812, is seeing action for the first time since it was refurbished and used about ten years ago in the victory celebration of Yohannan in his narrow win as the Panchayat President.

Yes, Uthupetan has finally succumbed to the law of nature and is being led to his final resting place, a place he could have called home even when he was alive, for he spent three quarters of his waking hours there digging and burying.  Yes, his life revolved around the cemetery.  He did not care whether it is a saint or sinner, rich or poor, man or woman, he gives them all the same treatment.  Depending on the affluence, the relative slot in the cemetery might change, but his treatment of the deceased is the same; at the location designated by the church, he excavates one pit six feet long, two feet wide and five feet deep in preparation for the burial.

If anybody deserved to be called Dr. Digger, it definitely was Uthupetan.  There is contention among the locals as to when Uthupu went into the funeral industry.  Eldho remembers seeing him at the local elementary school half way through the fourth grade when Uthupu abruptly stopped showing up for classes.  The school’s headmaster sent out inquiries to his household but was told Uthupu had been sleeping all day. Little did they know that Uthupu had joined his maternal uncle at the cemetery digging and burying corpses around that time.  He will rendezvous with him as the Arrack shop closes and head out to the local cemetery. His uncle always made sure there is enough curry and arrack while they were digging and thus Uthupu had a very early exposure to things that were worth living and digging for. 

To the people who knew Uthupu closely, his was a predictable career for he seemed to come alive the instant the stench from the cemetery embraced him.  Even as a toddler, he exhibited fascination towards burial.  When kids of his age played Saadembar (a primitive form of game similar to baseball), there was little Uthupu digging holes in the ground and burying ants, sometimes alive; sometimes he will behead them before burying but always smoothened the body in a very orderly way.  It appeared that the building of the mount above the body is what gave him the most sense of accomplishment and satisfaction.

Even while alive, Uthupu belonged to the nether world.  He felt at home with the dead; he was nocturnal at a very early age, choosing to work during the night and sleep during the day.  His last human contacts each day is during the closing of the arrack shop; he bids good-bye to his drinking buddies and heads straight to the cemetery.  Following his maternal uncle’s training, he follows the same sequence and ritual at the cemetery, consciously avoids insulting the long-term residents of the place, especially when he has to excavate one of their residences. Uthupu continuously talks to these veterans while opening the tombs and transferring their remains to the Asthikuzhy, the pit where leftover bones are discarded.  The residents of the cemetery are very choosy when it comes to who is going to be buried on top them.  Uthupu can sense the competition among the older residents when there is a new arrival.  Many of the older men prefer young women to be buried above them.  To maintain the tranquility of the place, Uthupu obliges to these demands.  The younger residents of the place are quite turbulent; you can hear their catcalls and abusive language all night.  Newly buried takes a little while to adjust, for they find the coffin too constrictive, the order of the place too nauseating, and the older men buried around them too overbearing.  Young men and women who met untimely, violent, and brutal death are the hardest to manage; from about midnight until the early morning crowing of cock, their abusive curses, and violent gnashing of teeth fills the otherwise serene air at the cemetery.  From time to time, intense, animal like, screams emanate from some of these tombs invariably followed by fresh blood gushing out of their “Kuzhimadam”.  Uthupu’s demeanor calms them all down like a guardian angel comforting a sick child.  Sometimes he pours a little arrack on the grave of the over-exuberant, which usually results in a gargling sound followed by a sigh of relief.

There was little that is indicative of a Christian funeral or burial for Uthupu; none of the priests or the sisters from the nearby convent stopped by during the viewing; nobody recited the rosary, the litany for the dead, or the Oppice.  Per direction from the bishop, Uthupu’s body was led directly to the cemetery without the customary stopover for the “Oppice for the Dead” inside the church; in the view of the Church, he was a delinquent man, someone who has not obeyed any of the God’s commandments, or met the minimum requirements dictated by the catholic church to be considered a Christian.  There was always the unsubstantiated rumor that Uthupu worshipped the Satan as much as the true God.  The rumor has it at the Church that, in the event he does not make it to heaven, at least the Satan will be less harsh to him.  Even though very docile in demeanor, his contorted face, the handlebar moustache, and the multitude of scars all over his face and body generated an eerie feeling on a chance encounter with him, for everybody but the very rugged.  Only seasoned priests willingly heard his annual confession; even they came out of the confessional profusely sweating and thoroughly shaken.  For penance, twice he was asked to attend the mass on his knees holding a large wooden cross in front of him!

In Thokkupara, like all across the Christendom, the poor, the have-nots, the destitute, the religiously delinquent, the suicide victims, and the subjects of the rampant state sponsored executions, they all get buried at the far corner of the cemetery known locally as “Themmady Kuzhi” where there is no chance, not even accidental, of a drop of the soothing, relieving, holy water being sprinkled on them.  The Church appears to have already made up their mind as to what will be the eventual destination of these souls after the “Day of the final Judgement” at the Valley of the Dead.  They squirm in agony from the isolation and darkness, waiting for the day of resurrection signaled by the blowing of trumpets by the angels from all four corners of the world.  They know they will be the first ones to reach the Yesopath’s Thazhvara, for their agony of existing in the far corner of that cemetery was too immeasurable.  Their only hope is to somehow maneuver in the valley, convince some saints to speak on their behalf to secure a place, some place even in the remote corner of the heaven. 

Having easily met most of the requirements for burial in that god-forsaken area of the cemetery, Uthupu’s body was taken directly to that far corner, away from the gentry, the wealthy, and the priestly.  Even the priest that followed the funeral procession never appeared in the cemetery, instead a brother, not an ordained one, recited some burial prayers.  His wife, Kunjely made a ruckus, crying in a loud voice, grabbing the coffin and begging Uthupu not leave her by herself.  Except for the children, nobody consoled her.  No body kissed and covered the face of the deceased as customary in Catholic burial. As the lid was placed back on top and the coffin was lowered into the burial pit, one could hear the mourning and lengthy, exhausted breathing from his wife.  But for Uthupu, chances are that the camaraderie he had with the residents over in this far corner of the cemetery may be made him feel more at home.  Thus, that journey, repeated for many decades, found Uthupu traveling one last time from the home he shared with Kunjely and the children to his real home, with the only difference being that there was no opportunity to stop over and commune with his buddies at the Toddy shop!