The 16th of July marked the 34th death anniversary of my dear father. In this connection, I attended the Fatiha prayer at his grave, and standing there, I was deeply reminded of how much our loved ones matter to us, even long after they have departed. The relationship between the living and the dead is one of the oldest stories of human civilization. It is written not just in our hearts, but in the very soil, air, and water of the places we call home. As the world grows more crowded and our environments change, the ways we say our final goodbyes are evolving—reflecting a delicate balance between sacred tradition and modern necessity.
The Close Neighbors of Mallaratta: Kashmir’s Intimate Lands
In the historic quarters of Srinagar, death has never been segregated from daily life. To this day, my ancestral home, Yarkand House in Mallaratta, stands tall and firm after 115 years of construction. Just twenty feet away lies our family graveyard, Maqbara Sadat Andrabis, where my parents, grandmother, and paternal uncles rest in peace. Purchased by my great-grandfather in mid-1916 from his pious Andrabi father-in-law for the princely sum of rupees eighteen, this plot remains beautifully maintained by the family. In those good old days, keeping graveyards close to residential houses was a comforting philosophy—a daily, grounding reminder of mortality, love, and continuity.
On a grander scale, the historic Malkha graveyard was established centuries ago as a central repository of memory for the Muslims of Srinagar. Originally a vast grape orchard spanning a thousand kanals, it was centrally located. Tragically, modern urbanization and political short-sightedness have reduced it to less than two hundred kanals. Encroachments—ranging from schools and mosques to slum colonies, stadium spaces, a gondola take-off stand, and the Rainwari Hospital—have slowly fractured this collective heritage.
Yet, Kashmir’s land laws historically accommodated this sacred geography. In rural areas, freshly converted communities utilized abundant state or grazing lands, recorded in revenue registers as Kachari, Shamilat, or Abadi Deh. These final resting places were legally protected under designations like Maqbooza Qabristan or Ahli-Islam. Similarly, the Kashmiri Pandit community utilized designated lands for their last rites, formally recorded as Maqbooza Ahli-Hinoo, Shamshan Ghat, or Awarin. Whether through burial or fire, the departed remained rooted in the land.
The Birdless Skies: The Changing Rituals of the Parsis
While Kashmir looks to the earth, the Parsi community traditionally looked to the sky. Holding the elements of nature in absolute veneration, Zoroastrian tradition dictates that burying a body desecrates the earth, and burning it pollutes sacred fire. Thus, they constructed Dakhmas, or Towers of Silence, where the dead were left open to the elements and to vultures—a system designed as the ultimate eco-friendly act of giving back to nature.
However, these ancient towers are losing their sheen. The vulture population across India has dwindled catastrophically due to inadvertent poisoning from veterinary drugs like diclofenac. With the skies suddenly empty, the community has had to adapt. Today, many Parsis are shifting their attitudes toward modern technology, turning to electric crematoriums—particularly in Mumbai and parts of Gujarat—marrying ancient prayers with contemporary realities.
The Automated Vaults of Japan
Farther east, in the hyper-dense urban centers of Japan, the challenge is sheer space. The Japanese have innovated an incredibly advanced, scientific approach to handling the dead. In modern, multi-story indoor cemeteries, they utilize deep, rounded well-like pits designed with state-of-the-art engineering.
Each family possesses their own automated vault box. When a body is placed inside, specific, highly regulated chemical compounds are introduced to accelerate decomposition safely and rapidly. Within a remarkably short period, the physical remains are reduced to clean ashes. The vault is then thoroughly cleansed and prepared, efficiently making room for the next family member. It is a striking blend of profound ancestral respect and futuristic spatial efficiency.
Rest in the Deep: The Ancient Law of Sea Burials
For those who spent their lives moving across the vast expanse of the oceans, the final resting place is neither earth nor sky, but the deep blue. Sea burial is a time-honored tradition, particularly for sailors, explorers, or travelers who pass away at sea.
Steeped in maritime protocol, the body is carefully prepared, weighted, sewn into a canvas shroud, and lowered into the ocean depths. Out of sight of land, the body gently descends to the seabed, where marine life naturally consumes the physical form, returning the traveler to the great cradle of the world’s waters.
Sky Burials of Ladakh and Tibet: The Frozen Horizons
In contrast to the warm oceans, the high-altitude, freezing ecosystems of places like Ladakh and Tibet offer unique challenges. In these arid, rocky, and timber-scarce environments, digging a grave into frozen earth is nearly impossible, and there is little wood available for large funeral pyres.
Here, the ancient practice of Sky Burial (Jhator) takes a different form than that of the Parsis. On designated sacred mountaintops, specialized practitioners gently prepare the body, which is then offered to Himalayan vultures. In the Buddhist philosophy of these regions, the body is seen as an empty vessel once the soul leaves. Offering the physical remains to the birds is considered a final, supreme act of generosity and compassion toward other living creatures, ensuring that the lifecycle continues even on the barren, cold roofs of the world.
Conclusion: A Shared Journey Home
From the rose-rimmed walls of Yarkand House in Mallaratta to the automated towers of Tokyo, and from the deep ocean trenches to the windswept peaks of Ladakh, humanity’s diverse funeral customs reveal a beautiful truth. We may use earth, fire, air, or water to return our loved ones to the universe, but the underlying intent remains identical: to honor our past, to respect our environment, and to ensure that those who shaped our lives are never truly forgotten.
(The author is a former civil servant from the administrative service. Email: [email protected])
