Funeral Rites of the Hindus and the Buddhists
Uday Lama
As
morbid as it sounds, but that life ends in death is inevitable;
the question is how do we cope with such a loss?
By the way, a few days ago I came across a rather morbid web site
called deathclock.com. The screen is done in dark colors and
interspersed with silhouette of a church and tombstones. In the
center it provides an input box where, if you want, you can type
in your birth date and your gender (a bare minimum of information
for such a vital calculation). You then click the OK button to
see "your personal date of death" ticking away in
seconds. The website sells these clocks, but I wonder who would
buy them and for what purpose. I liked its logo, however, that
says "… friendly reminder that life is slipping away...
second by second."
My own experience with the loss of a loved one came when my
sister died after a prolonged illness. Although I was 8 years old
at the time of her death, I still remember the various events
that followed her death. My sister was married, hence Nepali
social customs relegated her widower to be responsible for
funeral ceremonies.
Nepal (and in general most of the Southeast Asian countries) is a
male-dominated society, and this trend reflects in funeral
customs as well. For instance, if a husband dies leaving a widow
behind, the person leading the funeral charge would be his eldest
son. If the eldest son is unavailable for any reason, his next
son will take over the duties. If deceased male has no son, the
funeral responsibilities goes to his father even though the
departed soul may have living daughters.
Funeral rituals in Nepal are steeped in religious tradition, with
Hindu priests and Buddhist Lamas providing spiritual guidance to
the dead on its ultimate journey to the eternal world. Elaborate
rituals are needed to propitiate gods and deities so that the
soul may be given unhindered passage to its next destination.
Sometimes, especially in Buddhist funeral ceremony, the soul
itself needs to be convinced that it no longer belongs to this
mortal world, and that it now needs to get prepared to travel to
the ethereal world. All these arcane and complex funeral
ceremonies are performed with a single aim: to ensure that the
departed soul doesn't get stranded in the netherworld for lack of
proper guidance on way to heavenly destiny.
Immediately after my sister's death, Lama priests were notified.
Soon the priests and their lay helpers began to file into the
house bringing with them their ceremonial accoutrements. It was
the beginning of a three-day vigil over the dead body in repose.
This vigil is very important for the Buddhists who believe that
upon death the soul leaves the earthly body immediately but
hovers around it for three days and that sometimes within this
timeframe the soul may decide to reunite with the body causing an
instance of miraculous resurrection. And so, in such an ambiance
of bereavement and eternal hope the Lamas and the family began
their vigil, somewhat akin to the Christian wake.
For three days the priests chanted religious texts in unison,
rang bells and beat drums and blew tuba-like instruments at
various interval. They burned many oil lamps and incense in front
of the makeshift Buddha image constructed next to the dead body.
All family members were required to be present at certain times
of the day for prayer services. All friends and neighbors were
welcome to burn oil lamps, provide offerings, watch the ceremony,
or pray with the Lamas any time.
Emotionally and financially, funeral is quite a taxing time for
the family. The Lamas and their entourage must be housed and
provided for. All required ceremonial supplies must be purchased,
and where needed, leather-less shoes must be purchased for the
male members of the family, for they are prohibited from wearing
leather shoes for a year. Also all household members are required
to refrain from eating salt for the three days. This prohibition
comes off at the end of the third day when the Lamas distribute a
specially anointed salt to the family. But on the positive side,
such a somber ceremony conducted by robed Lamas with the
exclusive purpose of conciliating the departed soul of the
beloved family member surely acts as a soothing balm.
The Hindus, on the other hand, believe in the hastened departure
of soul. They believe that once it sheds the body, the soul
prepares to depart immediately on its karmic journey, and as
such, it's very important to cremate the body as soon as
practicable so as not to provide any allurement for the soul to
linger on to this side of the world. Therefore, Hindu customs
require the body to be taken to the holy grounds and cremated as
soon as all the family members have had a chance to view it.
It could very well be that climate may have played some role in
determining the duration of the wake. The Buddhists, inhabiting
cooler mountainous regions, could afford longer wake period
without the fear of putrefaction, whereas the Hindus, occupying
plainer, humid and hot regions, couldn't. This is just a
conjecture, though. (Recently, I was talking to a Hindu friend of
mine. He told me that now-a-days in most large cities in India a
family can rent space in an air-conditioned mortuary should they
need to keep the body longer for some faraway family members to
arrive.)
Customarily, Buddhists bury their dead, but in Nepal and
elsewhere, partly because of lack of burial grounds and partly
because of Hindu influence, they cremate their dead and share the
same burning ghat with the Hindus. The dictionary defines a
burning ghat as "a level space at the head of a ghat for
cremation." A ghat is defined as "a broad flight of
steps that is situated on a riverbank and that provides access to
the water especially for bathing." This is only partially
true. A ghat is a riverbank with or without steps, which are
man-made.
Hindu religion
imposes certain criteria as to the ideality of death. For
instance, death in a hospital or in a house is religiously
undesirable. To assure quick salvation of the soul, the Hindus
believe that one must seek to breath one's last lying on the bank
of a sacred river (Hinduism considers any river a holy river)
with a flurry of prayer emanating from his mouth. Growing up in
Nepal, I have witnessed instances where a critically sick man,
whose imminent death having been predicted by the attending
priest, was hurriedly carried away from his home to a local
riverbank for a death vigil. The irony was, just as death itself,
the priest could only approximate - must less guarantee - the
time of death. In some instances I have also witnessed situations
where the predicted death didn't occur. Instead, the dying man
got well enough to return to his home.
It is the ultimate wish of a Hindu to die and be cremated along a
riverbank; the holier the river the better for the departed soul.
Many Hindu holy shrines are built along famous riverbanks.
Banaras, situated along the holy river Ganges, is the holiest of
them all, considered so holy that every Hindu wishes to be
anointed by the Ganges river's water at his death's door. Indeed,
the desire to die on the bank of the Ganges river is so
irrepressible that even today there are pious Hindus in India who
make provisions to move to Baneras at an old age for the sole
purpose of waiting to die on the bank.
At long last, my sister's three-day vigil ended. A long funeral
procession of the chanting Lamas and male family members and
friends accompanied my sister's body to the bank of river
Baghmati. By prior arrangement, a pyre had already been built. As
the Lamas read the last rites, the body was laid on the pyre.
Then, as is customary, the first fire was lit by her husband,
followed by other male family members, including myself. Soon
fire consumed the woods and the cadaver, reducing both elements
to a few ounces of ashes. The ashes were entrusted to the slow
flowing river Baghmati to be carried away to the holy Ganges. The
funeral rites having completed, the entire procession returned to
my sister's home where a feast was prepared to say thank you and
goodbye to the Lamas and their party as well as to all the family
friends.
Once the feast is over and the guests depart one by one or en
masse, and only when the core family members find themselves
alone for the first time, does the real family mourning begin.
It's also the time for the family to discuss the final funeral
ceremony that must be held within a year.
The Hindus follow the same regiment in the disposal of the body.
As the Brahmins chant funereal hymns, the living male member of
the deceased family sets the first fire to the pyre. Unlike the
Buddhists, who prefer immediate dispersal of the ashes over the
river, the Hindus collect them in an urn for disposal in a
special year-end ceremony. After cremation, family members return
to their homes to begin an eleven-day mourning period during
which the immediate family's diet get severely restricted. For
instance, they're prohibited from eating salt, certain
vegetables, and meat. They are also required to wear
white-colored clothes only, and they must set aside anything made
out of leather, such as watch band, belt, shoes, etc.
On the 10th
day, the Hindu priests set up an elaborate ceremony where various
gods and goddesses are invoked and worshipped in the name of the
deceased, a great variety of foods are prepared and offered to
the departed soul, and all family members participate in the
worship and offering. On the 11th day, the priests perform the
right of absolution freeing everyone from all the restrictions;
henceforth, family members are free to return to their normal
lives.
For the Buddhists, while the Lama priests set the family free of
the dietary and sartorial restrictions at the end of the third
day, it's time now to plan for the final funeral ceremony as
early as can be arranged but certainly within a year. It's up to
the family to decide the duration of such a ceremony that could
last anywhere from a single day, abbreviated affair to a month
long, elaborated one, or somewhere in-between.
In my sister's case, it was decided that the final ceremony would
be of a 3-day duration. Once again, Lamas and their helpers were
invited and provisions were made. While the family worked hard to
accommodate the priestly party, the Lamas chanted passages from
the voluminous religious books. Hundreds of oil lamps lighted the
Buddha image and sweet fragrance from the burning incense wafted
throughout the house. The periodic bell ringing and the rhythmic
drum beating coalesced with the low-pitched sound of the
tuba-like horn instruments to create an eerie ambiance, at least
in the mind of an 8-year old.
The Lamas were chanting instructions to my sister's soul,
providing it the proper road map for the eternal journey. The
Buddhists believe such instructions are essential for the soul to
make a successful journey to its final resting place. Sans such
help, the soul will get caught in a limbo, which is a bad omen
for the family.
According to Buddhist tradition, the last day of the ceremony is
the day when the soul, until now still living in the house,
departs on its journey to eternity with the guidance of the Lama
priests. Because of its symbolic meaning, this day culminates in
the saddest of the mourning days. All members of the family are
required to attend this last ceremony.
My sister's final funeral day began with a light task for the
Lamas. For the past few days they've been reading the scriptures
from early morning to late dawn, but this morning they'd pray in
silence and prepare a small paper flag with my sister's name
written on it, and at mid-day they'd perform the final rites.
The final ceremony began as the priests placed the paper flag in
the center of the 108 unlit oil lamps. Then they began to chant
the last scriptural readings for a few hours. At the end of the
reading all the family members were invited to light the oil
lamps that surrounded the paper flag. Then the head Lama lifted
the paper flag. As the ringing bells and beating drums reached a
crescendo, he lighted the flag with the flame of the largest of
the oil lamps. Family members wept and sobbed. The flag burned
into ashes. This was the final goodbye. The soul has departed
from this world.
The funeral ceremony, the Buddhists believe, guarantees eternal
peace to the departed soul, while the final flag-burning as part
of the ceremony, guarantees purification of the house by formally
letting go of the spirit both emotionally and spiritually.
The Hindus, on the other hand, wait for a full year to complete
their funeral rites. At the one-year anniversary, they offer
foods and prayers to the dead through Brahmin priests and arrange
for the disposal of the ashes. A single day is all that it takes
for the priests to complete the prayer and offering, but the
question of what to do with the ashes requires a balance between
family wish and financial affordability. Ideally, ashes should be
scattered in or around holy rivers and places. The Hindus
consider the Himalayas as the holiest of all the places on earth,
for it has been the source of the holy Ganges and many other
lesser known but no less holy rivers, as well as the abode of
many gods and goddesses. The former Indian premier Indira
Gandhi's ashes were scattered over the Himalayas. The majority,
however, can't afford the expense of such a luxurious sendoff.
Those who can afford, travel to Baneras, or any other holy places
in India, and scatter the ashes in the holy rivers. Those who
can't afford, dispose of the ashes in a nearby local river.
About the Author
Mr. Lama was born in the faraway land of
Kathmandu, Nepal, a small kingdom nestled between India and China
and the home of Mt. Everest. This tiny country is the home
of many Hindu and Buddhist temples. The name Lama means
"buddhist priest."
Mr. Lama immigrated to the United States in 1968, after working
several years for the American Embassy in Kathmandu. He has
three Nepali children, Padma, Pramod, and Prabhat, all of whom
now reside in the United States. He is married to Doris
Lama, a native Washingtonian.
Mr. Lama has a passion for words and their definitions, world
religion and history. He has varied interests which include
jogging, cooking, taking historical tours, traveling, writing,
reading, storytelling and studying.
A graduate of clown school, Mr. Lama took the name of
"Teaser" which reveals his playful side. He's
written a small travel book on China and articles for various
Nepali newspapers and organizations, and currently works as a
Computer systems analyst.
Mr. Lama can be reached at [email protected].