Honoring the dead

The bushy beard almost masked the holy one’s face

The crowd was spellbound

with as much respect as there was fear

The topic was life after death

holy one was preaching the importance of leading a virtuous life to enjoy after life pleasures

“Our elders died in the confidence that we will protect their legacy”

He was quoting extensively form the Gita

making one think that he authored it.

“Protect all their possessions as your own”

The flow was broken by the constant clicking noise

It was coming from the second row

holy one looses his divine cool

He yells at the audience trying to seek out the source for the noise

A teenager with a plastic box

Fiddling with the lid leading to the unforgivable noise

“Imbecile!” thunders the holy one.

The teenager stands up

Embarrassed beyond anything.

Couple of opportunists from the crowd voice their displeasure as well.

“Is this too boring for you?”

“Did you lose your way here?”

“Did someone force you to be here?”

“Why are you spoiling it for the rest of us?”

He squeaks something.

Somehow finds his voice.

He had come to the discourse trying to clear a doubt

His father had passed away recently

The only legacy he had left behind was this plastic box with firecrackers in it

His father loved firecrackers

“He gave this box of firecrackers to me on his deathbed.”

The boy’s doubt was – how do I best honor my father?

preserve these firecrackers as that’s all I have left of him.

or do I light them and enjoy them the way he did?

I will then have nothing left of him.

How do I honor my dead father?