Chp 494. A Funeral of Hearts

Below are photos of dad’s funeral, taken by “Ainawn Photography” Studio. This is just a photo blog update of his funeral, and I will update my blog later with our Mizo customary funeral process, which I’m sure many of my non-Mizo readers will be interested in knowing. It is very different from how Christian funerals are conducted in the rest of India.

In our Mizo society, the whole neighborhood community and YMA (Young Mizo Association) play very important roles during a funeral. And since dad was quite well known, there was a huge turnout at his funeral, with many people from near and far coming to pay their last respect.

I will explain all about our Mizo funeral process in my next update including how the community gets involved, so please do watch this space for more. In this post, I’ll just post the photos of his funeral with short captions and brief explanations. Do click on the photos to enlarge.

On dad's funeral, black flags were raised and posters were displayed by the YMA outside our house with his photograph and brief description of him and the reason why he passed away.

People started arriving and they were each handed a program sheet by the YMA volunteers

My dad’s younger brother, with my cousin Mimi Hrahsel assisting him towards our house….

Inside the house, dad laid in his coffin, an open casket funeral.

Our immediate family members sat right next to his coffin

As mourners walked in, they presented flower wreaths to our family…

…or a bouquet

…or our tradition Mizo “puan” (clothing that women wear, like a long skirt)

Before the actual funeral program started, a few people who knew dad well stood up and talked about him, his achievements, his childhood days, his history, the things he had done for our community… basically his eulogy. They mentioned how Chaltlang (our locality) benefited a lot from dad when he was the Chief Engineer of Power & Electric dept years ago (by the way he was the first Mizo Chief Engineer in this dept), how he donated this and that to our community, how he oversaw various self governing bodies like Chaltlang Sporting Club Council, Christmas Fatu Committee etc. Here are some of his friends who got a chance to speak:

Upa (designation for our Church elder) Vanhela, IAS retired and chairman at dad’s funeral program -

Pi Chhawni, Founder of Bethesda de-addiction Center, located at our farm in Neihbawih -

Upa V.Thangliana, President of Civil Pensioner Association -

Pu Rohmingthanga, IAS retd. -

Pu Liannghinglova Pachuau, Engineer-in-Chief, Power & Electric dept. -

Pu Dunglena, PWD dept. Secretary retd. -

Pu Zahlira, Chaltlang MUP (Mizo Senior Citizens Association) leader -

Meanwhile, outside, the YMA brought in more benches for mourners to sit outside since our house was already packed.

There had never been that many people inside our house at the same time, so that was indeed a great honor for dad. It was the perfect sending off. Every room, every terrace, every corridor inside our house was packed to their limits.

Those who didn’t fit inside our house sat outside on the road. Traffic officials blocked all roads leading to our house and diverted vehicles to other routes.

Soon, at 1 PM , the official funeral program started and Upa Vanhela stood up to start the program as the death knell chimed across the entire locality.

My mom delivered the “family message” to the masses, talking about dad and thanking people for turning up

As mentioned in my previous post, I too decided to say a few words in the last minute to honor dad. That wasn’t actually allowed but they made an exception in my case…

Our locality Presbyterian denomination Pastor Rev. J.Lalhluna presided over the program and later sent off my dad…

We ended the funeral function with more singing and prayers…

After that, it was supposed to be a Photo session, but again the YMA allowed us more time since my sister Mazami who flew from UK the previous day the moment dad died had just landed in Mizoram and had almost reached home from the airport.

Later, my sister reached home and got to see dad’s face one last time before they covered his coffin. Her husband Nick flew home with her.

Meanwhile, the coffin cover was being prepared at my uncle’s house next door…

Our neighbors and friends carried the coffin cover into our house after my sister Mazam had spent some time sitting next to dad’s body. They covered him as we saw his face one last time…

The last part of the funeral program was the photo session. This was done systematically, with the MC announcing which group was next to take a photo with dad’s coffin. We do this to remember the dead. Here are some of them:

With leaders of our Chaltlang South Presbyterian Church -

With dad’s family (wife, kids, in-laws and grand kids) -

With dad’s brothers and sisters with their kids and grandkids -

With mom’s brothers and sisters with their kids and grandkids -

With dad’s closest friends (and wives of those who are deceased) -

With top officials and retired officials of Mizoram’s Power & Electric Department and those who personally worked under dad while he was the Chief Engineer -

With members of MUP (Mizo senior citizen association) -

With members of Mizo Civil Pensioner Association -

With friends and colleagues of my eldest sister Lapuii -

With friends and colleagues of my sister Dinpuii -

With my sister’s friends –

With my childhood friends from our locality (just wanna add here that you see only a few of them in the photo because a lot of my friends were busy with the funeral program like fetching benches, making tea and snacks for everybody, valet parking, grave digging etc which they’re expected to do according to our Mizo traditions, I’ll talk more about our Mizo customary practices in my next post) -

With dad’s High School classmates -

With mom’s two bridesmaids when dad and she got married -

With mom and my three elder sisters –

With everybody else who wanted to be in one last group photo -

After that it was time to lay him to rest. Neighbors, friends and YMA volunteers again carried him out from our house.

Unlike those Christian funerals you might have seen in Hollywood movies, according to our Mizo tradition, not everybody goes to the graveyard, just close relatives and friends of the deceased, mainly the youth follow the body to the grave. The rest of the mourners either go home or remain at our house to console grieving family members and sing worship songs.

Our pastor along with our Church elders led the procession, stopping all traffic along the way. The march was silent. My closest friends walked by my side.

Once we reached the graveyard, neighbors, friends and YMA volunteers again carried his coffin to his designated “spot”.

A short final prayer ceremony was conducted at his grave once his body was lowered into his grave

Upa C.Sangzuala said the final prayers…

After that we bid dad our final goodbyes…

While we proceeded back to our house, our friends and neighbors covered his grave. Since we all knew each other personally, according to an unwritten law, family members of the deceased weren’t supposed to be present while the grave was being covered as the volunteer workers didn’t feel good about it…

Dad’s final resting place. Cement, bricks and plaster were fixed the next day, which I’ll write about in my next update.

And that was the end of his funeral. On my next update, I’ll write more about our traditional funeral practices, the involvement of the YMA, the “khawhar in” norms and “mitthi in tlaivar” customary obligations. I’m sure you’ll be interested in knowing about, especially if you’re a non Mizo.

Until then. Take care. And once again, thank you all for your kind words and condolences here on my blog and on social media.

Chp 493. Dear Dad, goodbye.

My first blog post as a paternal orphan. 16th Feb, 8:40 AM.

Exactly a week ago, 9th Feb, 2014, 8:40 AM, my father breathed his last.

I flew home from Mumbai on 26th January when dad got admitted to the ICU. For two weeks, I stayed with him in the hospital, sometimes spending the night in the cold ICU corridor floor shivering beneath a blanket and waiting for any news from the night duty nurses, and other times staying with him in a private ward above, feeding him through a tube every three hours with no time for proper rest or sleep, only to be relieved by mom or one of my sisters during the day for a few hours so I could go home and shower. We kept shifting from the ICU to a private ward and back to the ICU again depending on his condition.

On 9th Feb, 2014, 8:40 AM, he left us.

Dad had always been known for his sharp witty humor, a trait I had inherited from him. And so on his funeral service, a lot of people turned up and I decided to deliver a short eulogy in the last minute to honor him. Since the funeral service was already planned by the YMA (Young Mizo Association) and our Presbyterian kohhran (denomination of Church we belonged to), people weren’t actually allowed to make any changes to the fixed program, but the leaders understood and allowed me to say what I wanted to say.

I was indeed very nervous since I had never spoken in public in Mizo before in my life, that too in front of such a huge crowd and esteemed mourners who had been close friends of dad, including the Chief Minister of Mizoram and his wife.






I did manage to bring in a few laughter during my short speech, and a lot of dad’s friends congratulated me later, telling me that I was indeed my father’s son. That was the highest honor and compliment I had received in my life.

On a lighter side, people too joked about how similar we looked and why I had put up my photo instead of his :)



I will update my blog later with the funeral process and stories of dad. I’ve been busy the past one week due to many functions and programs taking place in our house, and I didn’t have proper net connection at the hospital so I never had the chance to participate in the comment section of my recent answer at Quora: What do people of Mizoram think about the rest of India? which I also cross-posted on my blog. I was extremely overwhelmed to see that my Quora answer had received more than 1500 upvotes and 30,000 views.

It is stuff like that that brought in a brief ray of light amidst a dark cloud. For a moment it made me appreciate the beauty of life rather than mourn about it, and brought in the much needed distraction. That, and humor. During my two weeks stay in the hospital, I was updating my Facebook status with a lot of cheeky posts and photos. It’s not just about using humor as a defense mechanism, I’m sure dad would have appreciated that too knowing how he always managed to make people around him laugh.

















But apart from the humor, it was not a very easy life living in the hospital. For example, we had to occasionally take him to Trinity labs to do his CT Scan since the hospital didn’t have that facility. Moving him required an ambulance and seven full grown men! Four men to carry him in the stretcher, two people to carry the oxygen cylinder, and I carry his ventilator connecting his body and the oxygen cylinder. I had to make sure the portable ventilator, the oxygen and dad stayed connected all the time. Along with the manpower, a doctor and a nurse had to travel with us in the ambulance incase of any emergency.



But it is in times like this that family played a very important role. My cousins Hriatpuia and Sangtea stayed with me occasionally in the hospital along with my brother-in-law, and sometimes my niece Eunice and nephew Sawmtea too slept over in our hospital cabin during the nights. I do not have enough words to express my gratitude for all the help our family, friends and neighbors offered, even till today.





When dad was shifted back into the ICU, I was allowed to visit him only thrice a day, for a brief moment, wearing sterilized ICU slippers and lab coats...





And every time I see him, I would take photos of his vital stats and send them to my sisters and cousins who are doctors and nurses, just to update them on his condition. We weren’t allowed to take any photos inside the ICU, but all the nurses knew me pretty well by then and pitied me, allowing me to take photos.





I took one last photo of dad on Sunday morning, when the nurses rushed to tell me that his condition deteriorated and his breathing was extremely heavy even with the high concentration oxygen mask. But I’d rather not put that photo up on my blog as that is personal. I held his hand one last time…

As my cousins, sister, aunts, uncles, friends and neighbors rushed to the hospital, some stayed at home to be with mom and to start “preparing the house”. Minutes after my sister reached and rushed in to the ICU, dad breathed his last.



Even though it was inevitable that his end would eventually come one day, it was extremely hard to face the fact right then. 8:40 AM, I will never forget that time.

What was harder was signing his death certificate and filling other formalities, knowing it was time to be the man of the house and take care of mom and my three sisters…





We left the hospital in an ambulance. My sister and aunts sat with me next to my father’s body while my cousins and friends followed the ambulance in a long convoy of bikes and cars.

I’ll update my blog later with our Mizo customary funeral process. Today is the one week anniversary of dad’s demise and there is going to be a huge function held in our house again, which means I’m going to be busy the whole day…

Unlike most people, I know I’ve not been around much for dad since I live outside Mizoram. But at least having spent two weeks in the hospital for dad, facing hardships and other obstacles, feeding him when he initially came out of the ICU and making faces at him and tickling him, talking to him and covering him properly with the blankets, making him breathe through a nebulizer twice a day, carrying him whenever it is needed… I’m sure glad I got to do all that before bidding him goodbye.

RIP dad.