:: Kishwar Desai

Seeking desi nirvana at Newcastle-upon-Tyne

Kishwar Desai

March.28 : What is a beautiful death? And can the manner of your death and the rituals associated with it make it better, or any more pleasant, for those you leave behind? This week 70-year-old Devender Ghai, a Hindu who arrived in the UK from Kenya more than 50 years ago, has gone to the high court to plead his case for an open-air cremation on a traditional funeral pyre.

He wants his son to conduct his last rites in the age-old Hindu fashion. However, the local authorities in his area maintain that this in breach of the 1902 Cremation Act. Naturally, the case, either way, will have a long-range effect on the matter and is being watched quite closely by other Hindu organisations. It is also a blow to the secular credentials of the UK’s multi-cultural policy which tries to be politically-correct but is constantly knocking against demands from religious groups who are becoming increasingly conscious of the need to shore up their precarious identities, in life, and now, even in death.

Mr Ghai lives in Newcastle-upon-Tyne where he set up the Anglo-Asian Friendship Society, a multi-faith organisation, and so, perhaps, few would be able to call him a "rigid fundamentalist". He has also been honoured with awards from Unesco and Amnesty International. Yet, for this diabetic father of three, his death holds a special significance as he believes that his soul will be released only if he is burnt on a wood bier. Is the ceremony really that important — and the manner of anyone’s final departure so crucial? Mr Ghai, an obviously respected member of his community, says that the act will give his death "dignity" and that his soul will undergo a sacramental rebirth "like the mythical phoenix arising from the flames anew".

In that case, many now question, why are the normally-belligerent Hindu organisations in India silent on the issue and why has the Indian government as well as the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) allowed electric crematoria to proliferate in Indian cities? Why has no one protested, under the guidance of their learned priests, about the trillions of poor trapped souls which are probably still hovering around the electric crematoria, unable to enter the other world? Further, isn’t there a green agenda at stake here? Shouldn’t we worry about the number of trees cut down to perform the traditional funeral?

Critics also point out logically that if Mr Ghai sincerely believes in this ritual, he should also have his last rites performed on the banks of the Ganges. Why does he insist upon the ceremony being performed here in the UK — where instant Nirvana is unavailable? Besides, the authorities object, it may make uncomfortable viewing for those who are unfamiliar with the proceedings. This is, after all, his personal choice, so why should it be hoisted upon everyone else?

However, Mr Ghai is determined to die in the UK and his lawyer has pulled out the ever-present European Convention on Human Rights — now used routinely in cases of discrimination. What may puzzle many is why do only Hindu souls have the right to reincarnation and that too only if the bodies are burnt in a certain manner? Isn’t that discriminatory? But, perhaps, the convention can’t cover the next world as efficiently as it serves this.

Mr Ghai’s case only presents another instance of how each community in the UK is now more and more vociferous about its religious rights. Any perceived restriction of religious freedom is taken as a direct attack and a threat to public identity. So the rhetoric — both pro and anti — is becoming shrill and is regularly reported in the media. If the Muslim community asserts its right to have its children exempt from certain prayer ceremonies in the schools, it makes headlines. Similarly, if a Christian flight attendant is barred from wearing her crucifix, the airline is damned for misplaced political correctness. Open displays of religious symbols and rituals are mistaken as a sign of spirituality and a significant demonstration of community power.

It has been a peculiar fall-out of the multi-cultural policies followed in Britain that the older generation of immigrants are especially reluctant to accept natural globalisation and homogenisation of their traditions. One of the last remaining bastions is religion because unlike music, dance or cinema, which necessarily changes and modernises, religion is considered to be eternally the same. And the older it is, the wiser it must be. The leaders (usually the elders) of each community have realised that this legacy, too, is endangered by the lack of knowledge or interest apparent in their progeny. The more shrewd community leaders have quickly assessed the current climate and cynically set up "multi-faith" organisations to enhance their own secular credentials and appeal to the younger, less radical generation. After all, if Tony Blair can make a living out of a multi-faith foundation, why can’t ordinary mortals? Religion now affords a full-time career for all kinds of opportunists.

There is growing awareness that all religious issues have become a demonstrable assertion of a community’s power. In fact, one respected newspaper in its weekend section even runs a regular column called "This Muslim Life". Like everywhere else, divisive factors are at work here. All communities wants to celebrate their difference because that helps them overcome a sense of individual isolation, allows them to "bond" and then demand special privileges from the government. Shouldn’t there be an attempt at cohesion — with religion being kept at home as a private matter? Isn’t it enough that mosques and mandirs and gurudwaras have cropped up everywhere in the UK, giving people a chance to pray according to their beliefs during their lifetime? Do they also have to insist on a highly ritualised death?

Mr Ghai has already tested the system on this once before and found it fairly compliant. He had, in 2006, performed a cremation in an open field in Stamfordham, Northumberland. At that time the Crown Prosecution desisted from filing a case against him. Now they may have reason to regret their lenience.

On a more cheery note, as the weather improves in London, albeit briefly, with the sun shining and daffodils out in full bloom, there is a familiar sense of nostalgia among the pardesis for an Indian summer, which of course would have been heralded by a colourful Holi. A good place to overcome homesickness is to congregate at the cultural hub, the Nehru Centre, where this week the dynamic director Monica Mohta had organised an evening of ghazals by Anita Singhvi. Singhvi reminded us again, through her rich repertoire, of the seamless representation of all faiths and languages in Indian music. She sang in Persian, Hindustani, Urdu… and closed the debate on a strictly Hindu death for me, forever. Music can be such a great unifier.

If Mr Ghai were to plan a musical death, he may release his soul to an even better place.

The writer can be contacted at kishwardesai@yahoo.com