There are people who live their lives like Kings and Queens, fulfilling their banal whims and wishes before the thought of desire is expressed in their hearts, and there are people whose means make them think and calculate many times, as to whether they ought to buy a full loaf of bread today or should they wait till the hunger sets in lest it goes waste.
Albert D'Costa had something in common between either of the kind – he had the habits of the former and the means of the later. A bachanalian at heart and a beggar by pocket made Albert a compulsive borrower from any person who could lend him any sum. The burden of huge debt never hindered Albert's spirits till the wee hours of the morning when he would be let out off one of his hangouts in dizzying steps. And it was on one of those early morning hours when Albert walked out into the pouring rain, when a 20 tonne tanker sent him flying into the air to meet his maker. No one could quiet say whether he was sober enough to know that he had died!
Such a man, one would least expect to be inclined religiously. But Albert always made it a point to attend the Sunday mass at the St. Lawrence Theodal church every week. Perhaps it was this side of him that made him to prepare for his last journey well in advance. A man living on borrowed means neverthless did not hesitate spending his creditors money on his last rites and paid in full to the funeral services company for his coffin and earth.
Albert's death was not taken well by many and one person especially who happened to be Albert's companion in high spirits at night, screamed upon hearing about his friend's demise. Friendships have many sides and mostly one would be very saddend by dear one's death. But aparently Albert's drinking buddy felt a mixture of grief, guilt and mostly anger. Was the anger over the fact that Albert had gone drinking the previous night without him or whether he owed him quite a bit of money or that Albert had simply died without telling him about it was not discernible.
Whichever was the reason for the emotion, it made him act in vengeance. He summoned his accountant and ripped out Albert's ledger. As he looked around his warehouse for one of his goons, his way was blocked by a frail Muslim youth wearing a skull cap. He snarled at his obstacle and called out one of his goon's name. The accountant realising the situation quickly informed his boss that all the men were in the neighbouring town, recovering his money from the defaulting jeweller. At this point as he swung around he came face to face with the youth again.
“ What 's the matter boy? What do you want?”, snarled the annoyed friend of late Albert at the youth.
“ Sir, my name is Ahmed and I was wondering whether you need any hands for work?” stuttered the young man.
“ Sure boy” said the irritated employer “ here, take this paper and go to this address and recover any piece of possesion worth the sum at the bottom of the sheet and bring it here. If you are successful consider you have a permanent job.”
And in the spur of the moment a jobless hungry Ahmed agreed with so much as a nod of his head to his new assignment and walked out of the door. It was only when he walked out and the bright sun painfully constricted his pupils he realised that he had just got an opportunity to be employed and not be hungry again. Determined he set off to the address on the sheet.
Ahmed was a very religious Muslim. He prayed five times a day and read the Quran as time permitted him which in the past few weeks he had in excess. His unemployed status had not improved inspite of him feverishly praying to Allah for many weeks. In past couple of weeks Ahmed had probably eaten handful of meals. Physically Ahmed was weak and if his situation continued as it was he would soon meet his maker. He had thanked Allah a hundred times
for the opportunity at hand by the time he reached Albert's rented home.
At the door he saw a very relieved landlord instructing his burly men to remove the various pieces of furniture from the house, since Albert had not expectedly paid his rents for a long time. As Ahmed stood at the door step the landlord enquired what he wanted.
“ I am here to confiscate the possesions of Albert D'Costa as per this promisory note for failing to pay up the debts to my employer” said Ahmed in a very serious tone upon hearing which the Landlord started laughing.
“ My dear boy, Albert never had any possesion. I am just glad that he died and now I can reposses my house that I had rented to him.” informed the landlord still laughing at the fact that someone actually thought that Albert will pay them in his death when he did not attempt it on his sanest sundays. “The only thing that you can posses of Albert is probably his coffin if he had the sense to purchase one before he died” scoffed the landlord at Ahmed.
A slightly alarmed but determined Ahmed asked indignantly “And where exactly will this coffin be right now?” only setting off another round of non stop laughter from the landlord who told Ahmed that it might be at the St Lawrence church in between his bouts of guffaws.
Thanking the man Ahmed set off towards the church dissapointed at the prospect of not being able to recover anything.
At the gate of the church of St Lawrence Theodal, Ahmed hesitated before stepping inside the chuch compound. He removed his skull cap and folded them in his hand and headed towards the Father of the church tending to some shrubs.
“Father, can you direct me to Albert D'Costa's funeral?”
“My dear boy, I am so sorry for the loss of the man” said the priest of the church standing up from the gardening work he had been doing “but his funeral is not till 4 pm in the evening.”
“Well I would still like to see him... eh that is his body” said Ahmed not sure what he could do even if he did see Albert in his coffin.
“Well you would have to go to the funeral services company's place down 2 bock from here if you are anxious to see him now, but I suggest you attend the funeral service in the evening.”
“Thank you father but I must see him now”, said Ahmed as he spun around on his heel glad that he did not have to confiscate anything inside the Church of God.
With a quick pace in his feet Ahmed reached the second corner. As he turned he saw a large board displaying the name of the place 'Rest in Peace Pvt Ltd' written in large bright white letter on a jet black background. Ironicaly in the side was a colourful photograph of a cheerful smiling man with the dates of his birth and demise below it.
Ahmed knocked on the glass door and entered. The door chimes rang pleasantly announcing Ahmed's entry into the shop. The sounds brought out the owner of the shop from the inner room.
“Hi!” greeted a young man in his work clothes and an apron on him which he used to wipe his good hand before he reached out to shake hands with Ahmed
“What can I do for you?”
“Well I am told that you are preparing Mr. D'Costa's dead body for his funeral service” said Ahmed as he shook the strong hand
“Yes, I am and are you a relative of his?”
“Not exactly, actually I've never known him, I just wanted to see him if it's possible.”
“That's defenitely possible and come right this way” and he lead his visitor into the inner room
There on the table lay Albert D'Costa in his coffin.
“This is defeniltely one of my best jobs” said the owner almost sounding proud “Albert was a mess when they brought him. I have been working on him all day to make him look like himself. That 20tonner did a pretty good job of changing his identity. Let me pull up the curtains for you” he said as he let in the afternoon sun into the room.
Ahmed stood there in awe. As the sunlinght fell on the coffin it came alive. It was made of one of the best woods Ahmed had known in his life and that fact hardly mattered when you saw the exquisitely embossed gold and siver platings on the coffin. The light reflected back in pinks and blues as they passed through many semi precious stones embedded in the plates. Albert lay in the softest silk muslin man had ever known. The sight made you wish that it was you there instead of Albert. And then Ahmed realised that it will be his death if he does not act right away.
“And so are you a reporter? “ asked the funeral director “What daily are you from?”
Without bothering to answer the queswtion Ahmed asked “I assume Mr. Albert paid in full for the coffin when he ordered it with you.”
“Of course he did. You see people cant pay us once they have passed on and therefore we have to take the payments well in advance before the event.”
“Well then I must get to business and tell you that the coffin is being confiscated since Mr. Albert has not paid his debts to my employer. This is the last possesion he has and I lay the first claim on this coffin on behalf of my employer.”
The funeral director looked at Ahmed with his mouth slightly open trying to figure out what he was saying.
“You see Mister this is a 'coffin' and there is a dead body in it” he told Ahmed, “are you telling me that now you want to take this coffin because this dead man did not pay you?”
“That's right, I am confiscating this Coffin” said Ahmed with more confident now than before
“Damn you!” burst out the funeral director “Damn you and your boss for even thinking of recovering money from the dead mans last journey, but I will not let this happen and you defenitely shall not take anyhting from this place”
“But I must and I will.”
“We will see about who will take anything from here without my permission.” and the funeral director stood infront of the coffin blocking Ahmed. His hands folded infront of him made his muscles pop out menacingly and he had a look in his eyes that told the man infront to mess with him with pleasure.
“Sir, I must tell you that this coffin is now my employer's property” tried Ahmed in vain. This was the last straw and Ahmed felt himself being pushed and dragged out of the store and thrown to the ground.
“You scumbag! You are worse than the devil himself. You do not know who I am. My name is Haris Michael Jaikishan. This store, this place where we sell one's death and try and fulfill mans last rites and wishes has a soul. That soul is my father's soul which inspite of having sent thousands on their last journey did not lose its morals. Not once has my father failed to keep his promise. Not one poor dead man's soul will have a complaint till date and I my father's son will see to it that I keep all the promises that i make.”
Haris Michael Jaikishan is one of the most unusal names one can come across in ones life. Haris was found by his adopted father on the footsteps of the railway station late one night. An orphan himself Haris's father took the baby boy into his home and heart as his own. Unable to choose any religion for himself the man also did not make Haris choose one. Thus he gave a triple name to Haris. Being in the business of death, Haris and his father did the necessary for people from all religions. Burial and cremation were handled by them without the least of discomforts to the living near and dear ones of the departed. Over the years they had earned themselves a name and respectability for their services and reliability.
“You dont understand, I have to take the coffin.” cried Ahmed
“That you shall not and get out of here before I bury you”
Hearing these shouts and scuffle, people gathered around them curious to know what was going on. Most of them knew Haris and so supported him. Some understood Ahmed's plight and sympathised with him. After all the dead man did owe money to Ahmed's boss and Ahmed was only doing his job. Some thought Ahmed had a legal right and others said that a dead man's wish should always be fulfilled lest his soul does not rest in peace. Many argued for and many against. But no one could firmly say what ought to be done.
The local constable on duty saw the gathering from his seat near the tea shop. He had seen the scuffle right from the begining but had barely moved from his plastic stool given by the tea shop's owner. Now his view was blocked by the people gathered around and he was curious to know what was going on. But he was too comfortable to get up from his seat and he got back to reading his newspaper about a rich business man missing for last two days and dreaming about the reward on offer for information about him.
“Sir, I think you better take a look there. Seems like it might get out of hand.” the owner of the tea shop told the constable.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Let me finish this tea first” he said sipping his hot tea gingerly as he watched on the crowd.
“You dont want a big fight here Sir, you will have to work for weeks to fill the reports and go to court.”
Somehow the idea that he might have to work next few weeks jerked up the constable. He got up and felt pins and needles in his left butt cheek as the blood rushed there. He finished his tea in a single gulp packed the paper in his arm pit and marched toward the crowd waving his lathi menacingly.
“Whats the matter here?” he shouted as he neared the crowd, “move away and dont stand here else I will have to do a lathi charge on everyone here” and pushed away the men on his way with his lathi.
“Sir, this is something for the police. Its good you are here. Only you can set this right.” said a bystander.
“So what's the problem?”
And the eager bystander walked up and explained the problem in detail to the constable
“So you have to register a FIR and take these men to the Police Chowk” finished the man
“I shall decide whether this matter is worthy of a busy policeman's time.” announced the Constable who was very reluctant to register a case. A case meant that he had to do a lot of paperwork and go to the court as witness etc. He was not ready to disturb his daily routine of sipping his tea and resting his rear on the plastic stool.
“No, you have to because it is the law” insisted the same man
“And you are a lawyer are you?” snarled the Constable sarcasticaly at the man
“Yes, I am and this is my card”, he said as he fished out a set of visiting cards and distributed it to the two men in conflict,their lawkeeper and anyone who extended their hand in curiosity “and it is my opinion that this is matter for the court.”
“Mr. A.C.Kolidappa, B.Sc, B.A.,LLB, very impressive” said someone in the crowd.
The constable gave him a cold stare and then turned to Kolidappa
“What do you suggest then?” asked the constable with a reluctant face.
“Well as I said we have to register a FIR and lodge a case with the court.”
Somehow the police are always weary of the lawyers. Is it because they know law more than the police or was it because the lawyers created more trouble for the police than the miscreants has not been clear till date. So the constable racked his head for a quick solution.
“But Sir, the dead man has to be buried by 4 pm” interrupted Haris “and I have to keep my promise. If we register a case then does it mean that the dead man has to wait till the court gives a decision, which will be few months from now if not years?”
“Well Kolidappa, what do you say to that?” the constable enquired
Kolidappa had been trying to gain a client till now. But suddenly he was knew he had bitten off more than he could chew. The people in the crowd also started mumurring and Kolidappa knew that he had to say something otherwise his reputation would be tarnished.
“Well it is always better to settle out of courts. If they can mutually agree to some decision we could sort out the matter here. After all a dead man has to be buried for his soul to rest in peace.”
“That's settled then. We will decide here and end the whole issue right now. You Mr. Kolidappa will be the judge since you know the law. The two men with the issue will present their case to you themselves and you shall make the decision.” announced the constable and the crowd murmurred their consent.
Haris and Ahmed now had no choice but to go along with the arrangement.
Kolidappa at once felt pride and a deep knot in his stomach. Kolidappa had always dreamed of being a Judge one day. His practice was meager and he earned most of his income by writing documents of legal nature. Money had not been an important thing for him in his life. But today he had got a chance to be a Judge to resolve a conflict. That made his chest swell up in pride. Like an actor waiting to get his dream role, Kolidappa became the character of a Judge immediately in the language of words and actions. But deep within he was nervous that he will fail to deliver.
“The court shall now be in session” announced Kolidappa as he pulled a wooden box and sat down on it in the middle of the crowd.
“All of you move back and you two stand on either side of him.” directed the constable.
“Now Mr. Ahmed you will start with your side of the case.”
“Well you see Sir, I recently got employed in this business. I have to recover this last possesion-the coffin of Mr.Alfred since he has failed to pay my boss.” and Ahmed related the whole story of how he came to be where he was.
“Fine then Mr.Haris what do you have to say?” said Kolidappa
“Well Sir, I have been in this business since I was a child. Never once has anyone come to stake claim on a dead man's coffin. I do not know whether it is legally right or not but certainly it is morally wrong. My father passed aways recently and you can see his picture on the board up there.” Haris pointed to the smiling face of his father.
“One thing my old man taught me was honesty. He told me to keep the promises we make. He showed me that even though the dead person who booked the cremations or their coffins when alive,cannot see it themselves and appreciate it when they lie in it, we should do our best in fulfilling their wishes so that they pass over to the next world peacefully. Today this man has come here to take away a dead man's last request. Even the law permits a last request to a man condemned to death for his crimes. Here it is a man who may not have lived his life like a good man should but he defenitely deserves to have a burial he wished for and he paid for. I request you to allow that this man be buried in the coffin he wished for himself.”
“Ok, fine. So did Albert pay you in full for the coffin?”
“Yes he did.”
“So when did you make this coffin?”
“Well the basic parts are always ready with me. I usually fix them up when I hear about the news and ready them.”
“So the coffin was made ready after Albert died and someone informed you about it.”
“That's right.”
“What amount did Albert pay for this?”
“It costs about fifty five thousand.”
The crowd made remarks about the price of the coffin.
“Shhhh everyone. Let's this be done with this as soon as possible.” the constable said quietening the crowd
“And what amount does Albert owe your boss?”
Ahmed shuffled through his pockets and drew out the ledger sheet with Albert's signature at the bottom and gave it Kolidappa
“Hmmmm...ffifty eight thousand six hundred.” read out Kolidappa “which means you still need something else of Albert's to make up this amount.” After pausing for few moments Kolidappa continued “There are issues here that are very significant for the legal case history. First we have to understand there that the coffin was ordered and paid for by Albert. But it was manufactured only after he died. So he never took legal possesion of this coffin when he was alive. Thus this coffin is not Albert's till he takes delivery of it. I believe Albert did not have any legal heirs. Because the delivery of coffins is usually taken by near and dear ones of the departed person, the coffin comes into the possesion of the dead person by virtue of delivery to his legal heirs. But in this case there are no heirs and therefore the persons assests go to the state. Strictly speaking we are on the fringes of the legality of the whole issue.” and Kolidappa only added to the prevailing confusions.
The crowd started murmuring and it had a distinct tone of disent.
“Mr. Ahmed you may now have to prove that this coffin belongs to Albert. Once you do that you may posses it. If you fail to prove then the coffin will be property of Mr.Haris. He may do whatever he pleases to do with it.”
“Now is it not obvious. Here is a man, dead and gone lying in a coffin in the funeral director's shop. It is not this funeral director's job to do charity and I do not think he is intending on it at all. Therefore the coffin that is now being used for the dead man was meant for him. So the coffin is Albert's and I am laying a claim on it.” defended Ahmed
“Defenitely my business is not to do charity. But I am a man of principles. Even in this business where I see more pain than pleasure I keep my word. I am man without a past, a man without much future but my present is mine. I shall choose to do what I please with what my father has taught me. What are you? You are a muslim and seem to be a pious one too. But why are you doing this unholy job of retrieving money lent on interest. Does not the holy book tell you it is a sin.?”
It was then it hit Ahmed like a bolt of lightning. He was doing a bad thing by being in the money lending business. Suddenly Ahmed shook from his head to toe in a wild spasm and with a great sound he belched and vomited on the pavment infront of him before collapsing in a heap. There wasnt any substance in his excreata which was not surprising since he had hardly eaten anything.
Few people quiclky supported Ahmed upon his feet. Kolidappa made way for the frail Ahmed and let him sit on the Judge's box.
“Poor man”
“Seems to be starved, someone get him a tender coconut”
“Loosen his clothes.” and thus advice rained on what to do with Ahmed.
Haris walked upto Ahmed and layed a hand on his shoulder.
“Look here, I am sorry for what I said. I realise now that you have some problems of your own. But I have given my word to a man and I have to keep it. So I cannot allow you to take the coffin.”
“That's allright. This is my first job in many months and I was desperate for it. I havent eaten in days. I forgot in my hunger the teachings of the almighty. You have reminded me. Thank you.” Ahmed said in a weak tone as he sipped on a tender coconut.
“What have you decided about he case Mr. Kolidappa?” interrupted the constable. He seemed to want the issue done and over with before any further complications.
“Well you see this is a case of great significance to the legal world. We cannot simply judge it without proper arguments and presentation and er...”
“Who died? Which idiot died today? Who is the lucky bastard?” came a voice from the back of the crowd slurred with intoxication. The man pushed through the crowd, stumbling and mumbling.
As the figure bent with imbalance straightened himself inthe middle of the crowd.Aa gasp was heard in the crowd. Someone shouted ghost. The crowd suddenly loosened itself and people walked back few steps as if it were a poisonous snake in their midst.
“It can be. Who are you?” said Haris
“Who are you? You are asking me who I am. Who am I?” the man swirled on his heel as if to fall and then regained his balance. “I am Albert D'Costa the one and only and only one and one and only....” he slurred on
“But you are dead and lying in the coffin. How's this possible. And yet you look like Albert and i mean ....” and Haris became confused.
“Oh I am dead! No one told me I am dead. I think I need one more drink.” and he fished his hip flask out “ to my death!” he toasted and gulped down the contents. Somehow this convinced everyone in the crowd who knew Albert that this was him.
“ So then who is dead inside there if he is Albert” enquired the constable.
Haris looked at the policeman and the policeman back at him and suddenly both of them rushed inside the shop followed by the curious crowd.
“But of course its now clear to me.” yelled the constable. “This is the missing businessman. Look here” he said as he opened his newpaper to show the picture and it indeed was him.
“Thish ish Mr. Shet. Hi Shetji. You left me in the gutter last night after I drank the whole bottle with you.” slurred in Albert remembering his drinking companion of previous night
“And there is a reward for his information” added the lawyer quickly
“Ok and thats it the matter is solved. So all of you get out of here and clear the place.” the constable said pushing out people eager to get rid of everyone before the issue of reward was to become any more complicated.
Somehow everyone was relieved that it was not Albert who had died. Ahmed telephoned his employer to tell him the situation and inform his that he cannot work for him. His ex-employer was only overjoyed to hear that Albert was alive and told Ahmed that he can have any job he wished if he made sure Albert did not go anywhere till he arrives there.
Haris walked upto Ahmed and said “You are a good man. I am sorry that I hurt you. I was wondering if I can make amends with you.”
“Dont worry brother, I have nothing against you.”
“Well I would like to help you if you would let me and infact you can help me much more if you care to join me as my helper in my work. The job is nothing to die for! and yet it pays to make your ends meet.”
“Oh thank you Haris, thank you so much. Yes, I will join you as your helper.” gushed Ahmed and he looked up to the sky to thank his maker once more.
The matter was solved and all were happy but for the Judge. Kolidappa sat outside on his wooden box wondering what should have been his judgement had not Albert fallen into the gutter and escaped the tanker.
“Hai lawyer, Mr. Lawyer I want you to write my will....”
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