Grandma's funeral; another installment (trial)...
It was cold and damp outside, for there had been an evening drizzle. My parents and I left the hall. In a tentage, the temple priests and nuns were conducting a prayer ceremony. ‘Na….mo…..’ the chief priest began to chant in Chinese syllables, as I knelt and leafed through the pages of an unknown sutra. It depicted fantastical things of the Afterlife, speaking of parrots in a myriad of colours, and peacocks that had a thousand eyes on their feathers. It spoke of flowers that were more fragrant than all the perfumes of the world, and lights that shone more brightly than all the stars in the heavens and cosmos. I did not know why, but an image of a bridge suddenly came to me. For a while, I thought I saw Grandma. She was holding a cane in one hand, and taking small deliberate steps from one end of the bridge to the other. At midway, she turned and smiled, and waved a goodbye before she continued her way. It was a calm and peaceful smile -- full of assurance and wisdom -- and I thought that was the most beautiful smile I had seen of Grandma. ‘I saw Grandma,’ Cousin Yun whispered to me secretly after the prayer ceremony. I smiled at her, but said nothing. The hall was still noisy with the gamblers and the television. I stole a glance at Cousin Hong before I climbed upstairs, my feet made a thumping sound as I went up the wooden steps. That night, I could not sleep well. I fell off my bed once. I also dreamt about black cats.The second day, two quarrels broke out.
It was morning, and I was having a quiet breakfast in the hall when I heard voices shouting from the kitchen. I quickly went over to take a look. Dad was quarreling with Cousin Chin.
‘Son of a gun!’ Dad spat and shouted. ‘If you’re unhappy, we can have a one-on-one behind the house!’
Dad’s face was flushed in anger. He was waving his arms about in violent wild gestures while Auntie tried to push him aside to pacify him. Cousin Chin ignored Dad and walked away. I later found out what had happened. Cousin Chin had urinated in the bathroom, and he called Dad ‘a silly useless old man’ when Dad chided him for not using the toilet instead. After the incident, Cousin Chin had a quiet smoke beside the old well, while I returned to the hall quietly and read, having lost my mood for breakfast. I thought it was unfortunate to start the morning like this, but this was not the end of it.
Just before lunch, a loud wail sounded from the kitchen. I rushed over and saw Auntie bursting into tears and sobs. She was beating her chest furiously with her right fist. At that sight, I thought that the sadness in the house was becoming insufferable, and I was overcome with a strong desire to get out of that miserable place. At first, I thought Aunite was overwhelmed with grief by Grandma’s death. I later realised that Aunite had quarreled with Uncle. Uncle was angry that Auntie did not bring him the dustbin when he had asked her to do so, and he threatened to beat her. ‘My dad had tried to hit my mum with a belt when I was only five years old,’ Cousin Ghim told me. The incident was clearly a misunderstanding. Auntie was too far in the kitchen, so she could not hear Uncle. Besides, the dustbin was only a few steps away from Uncle. The very fact that quarrels, or even violence, could occur over such trivial issues made life seem more depressing than Grandma’s death itself. The women of the house decided to confront Uncle in the hall.
‘What a lazy man you are! Can’t you even move from your seat and take the dustbin yourself? Is it not depressing enough that Mum had died?’ Aunt Bee assailed Uncle with an avalanche of useless questions.
‘Your wife had been taking care of Mother when she was ill. What had she done to deserve this ill-treatment from you?’ Aunt Hun added.
Uncle suddenly stood up and spoke with authority. ‘For the last twenty or thirty years, I have slogged and slaved for this family. Is this how I should be spoken to?’ He was now the patriarch of the house, being the eldest son.
Father cut into the conversation quickly. ‘This is your family matter. Remember that Mother had said that half of the old house belongs to me.’ Father was referring to the old house some two kilometres down the road that Grandma had left behind. What had begun as a silly fuss over a dustbin escalated quickly into a discussion on dividing the family property.
“Let us talk about this outside. It’s not nice to be like this in Mother’s presence.’ Auntie Hun reminded everyone.
At that utterance, everyone suddenly quietened down. The cousins started to whisper in hushed voices. The adults looked nervous and uneasy, trying to wipe guilty looks off their faces. I cast a glance at the wooden coffin, imagining how Grandma could rest peacefully like this. Cousin Yun’s eyes were welled with tears again.
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