Touched

On the day we checked out of the hotel, my brother and his son had promised to take us around for a bit of shopping and to see the sights of Dubai – the city known for the tallest, biggest, largest, deepest things in the world. We heard that the Guinness World Records guys had also set up an office in this city of many firsts.

My brother was excited to take us around but he had some unpleasant news. A young colleague of his, SP, had passed away a couple of days earlier playing football and there was a memorial service for him at the Jebel Ali church on the same day.

“I might have to go to the memorial service and leave you guys a little earlier.”

“What time is the service?”I asked.

“3:00 pm.”

“Do you mind if we tag along?”I asked.

“Uh...ok” said my brother.

Immediately I knew it was not a wise decision as there would be people from his workplace and my husband and I didn’t even know the person for whom the service was being held.

“Why?” My husband asked with his eyes.

I did not know why.

...

There were two little children – a boy and a girl – sitting on the dais and just being normal kids.

“Are those his children?” we asked.

My brother nodded.

The first speaker walked solemnly and stood facing the people who had gathered in the hall, just behind a smiling life-size and life-like picture of SP.

“If you think that this is going to be a heart-rending memorial service,” he began, “I would like to tell you that it will not be so.”

Then he went on to tell a humorous story about what SP would be doing and eating in heaven. How he would be presently pestering all the blessed souls in heaven especially St. Peter because after he got his wife’s permission to go, he being he, would have definitely made a dash for the gates ahead of all others only to be stopped by St. Peter asking for his credentials!  To the point that they would get fed up and make up some excusable story that he was picked in error and should go back to where he came from!

“If SP was here in this hall now, he would’ve said – “Wow, there are so many people gathered here, let’s have a party”.”

From the eulogies to SP that his friends and colleagues presented, we gathered that SP loved food, football, and his family. He also loved people and always made them laugh. He was a natural joker.

He seemed to be born with the spirit to bring joy to others.

...

Then SP’s son spoke about his father. He made special request to all present there about not leaving the place on a sad note. He was sure his father would have felt really bad if he was alive, to have missed such a great opportunity when all the people gathered there would leave without having a party!
His daughter read a poem that she had secretly penned herself as a special surprise gift to be delivered personally to her daddy on his birthday later in the same month. It was poignantly simple.

His wife spoke, while sighing deeply at intervals, about how they met and the kind of person he was – how he came from humble beginnings, how he saved every penny and how far he went with the efforts to make simple arrangements to make her happy or just make her smile on several occasions even when he earned a lot less those days.

She related several incidents from their life together but I could not quite catch her words as we were standing outside the hall overflowing with people from SP’s office.

His wife then presented a slideshow titled “Life of Pi” (“Pi” being the first two letters of the family name!).  As the slides unfolded showing SP in all his glory, the “oh so funny” up and down moments, caring and sharing moments, all saying one thing about the man – He loved life and he loved to make things as best as he could for people around him. Be it family, friends or just folks whom he had never ever met or knew.

...

As we returned to Muscat we were not the same people. We were touched by the joyful spirit of this man whom we had never known. Not many can give strength to dear ones even after death.

God had led us to what He wanted us to know.

.....................................................................................

(With valuable inputs from R. D'Cruz, my big brother.)