A woman in a starched sari walks in, dabbing the sweat off her face with a handkerchief, looks straight at you and nods. Presumably, upon receiving the green signal from the cameraman, she immediately contorts her face into an expression of silent sorrow and gazes at the bound head of a body lying in a coffin in front of her. She stands still for 2.14 minutes, before looking up, nodding her head at the camera again, and walking away.
Sometimes, people come in groups, middle-aged husbands and wives. They stand sad, with their heads bowed. Some only spend a few seconds, most stay for a minute or two. Once, I saw a man sitting in a chair next to a casket and making what seemed like a heated phone call—hand gestures, forehead slaps—for a good 20 minutes, before making room for the next. The first to mourn The dead man, of course, lies motionless.
A scene from the ‘Haldi’ ceremony of a Kerala couple. , Photo credit: Viva Photography
For the past few weeks, I’ve been sucked down the rabbit hole of family gatherings videos Kerala, Wedding videos — engagement, pre-, post-, and all other permutations and combinations — are now such an integral part of mainstream Internet content that they all fall somewhere on a sliding scale of insignificance. However the videos I’ve seen are quite different. They are a piece of life. Or, to be more precise, they are long, unedited reports of a slice of death.
channel dedicated to funeral
Funeral videos, which became a necessity during the pandemic when people could not travel and visit their families, have now carved a niche for themselves. YouTube has thousands of these. Even with my initial research, I’ve found that there are channels devoted almost entirely to this sort of thing. You can scroll through the list to find your distant grandfather’s funeral and watch it to feel the presence, or like me, you can play at a stranger’s funeral and have an interesting sociological exercise. As you can get absorbed in it.
This photo from the funeral of a 95-year-old man in Kerala, where family members happily pose near his coffin, went viral last year. The family said they wanted to celebrate the happy life of the matriarch. , Photo credit: Image via Twitter
Although online prayer meetings and funerals were taking place across the country (and around the world) during COVID-19, it seems to have ended up in content only in Kerala. I reached out to author NS Madhavan to try to understand this unique practice. He told me that some Christian families in the state have an age-old tradition of taking a family photo with the coffin. Added to this is the fact that Kerala families have long-standing relatives living abroad and are often unable to meet the family for the last rites.
During the pandemic, awareness and use of technology that helped record and stream video became widespread, allowing people to access events live. In short, it is the application of a new technology to an old practice. Hosting these recordings online is a logical next step. Maybe the nephews in the US are too inconvenient to stay awake and watch the live action, and can now schedule a weekend viewing session instead? Perhaps those who attended the funeral would like to see themselves on the screen in a few weeks? Who is complaining? not me. I see the little boy busy deciding whether or not he should touch the dead man, his hand moving over his face.
15 seconds of fame
Public consumption of private moments is the essence of most content on the Internet. And, it seems that in Kerala, there is no chance left for 15 seconds of online fame. From baby naming ceremonies to “puberty functions,” a videographer seems to be the first person invited to any gathering. To see them is to snoop without any shame, because you didn’t snoop around for it.
a housewarming ceremony. , Photo credit: Getty Images / iStock
In fact, in housewarming videos – another popular genre – you are literally invited into the home and given a grand tour: here, the washing area, where the lady of the house poses with the washing machine, a small shrine The protagonists manage at least two changes of clothing, one for a “private” religious ceremony, and another when guests arrive. The buffet is a lavish spread and waiters carry trays with orange fizz and cola. Children get space to play. The women examine table linens and marvel at the fish tanks. When they see the videographer they hold back a bit and then immediately smile. Some men, perhaps old friends, form a circle. Somebody jokes. Everyone laughs until one of them breaks free and goes to help Cake.
He looks around, hoping no one is watching. But, in Kerala, there is always a camera at such an event. And it’s not going to stop. even when you’re dead.
The author is the author of ‘Independence Day: A People’s History’.