Through The Looking Glass

If you are thinking that this is some literary thesis on 'Alice in Wonderland', you got the wrong blog. No Madhatters party here. Wailing party, perhaps.

For those who know, these few days have been about the grandmother's funeral. Added note : This is the first full-blown funeral I've attended. From the wake to the cremation process, and I have to say, funeral is a political drama event. This probably sounds insensitive and evil, but sometimes, funeral makes one think it is a time for SOME people to display their best Canto-drama acting skills on the crying act.


The Crying Game
There is this old Chinese belief that in a funeral, one has to wail dramatically loud to show your grief for the deceased. The louder you wail, the more respectable it is. Thankfully in this family, there are only two such people that still exist - one is my eldest aunt who lives, eat and shit by her superstitions; and the other is this particular grand auntie, who is public enemy #1 in the eyes of the family. The overexaggerated display of loud wails and coffin-clutching, was so not a sight to behold. I was secretly hoping someone would slap them and tell them to cut the damn act. They were not getting an oscar award for Best Actress in "The Best Crying Act in a Funeral".


My Grandmother, The Old Virgina?
Has anyone ever attended a Christian Service sermoned in Hokkien?

It provided the biggest amusement provided to the family. The pastor would sermon a service every evening

Over an over again, we would hear the words ".... Ji Bei.... Lao Ji Bei...." from the sermons and songs blasting out through the speakers.

Correct Definition : Sister, Old Sister.

The Twisted-Mind Definintion : Chee-Bye, Old Chee-Bye = Virgina, Old Virgina.

But of course everyone was more ready to think virgina than sister. To top it off, they would sometimes use the term AFTER mentioning my grandmother's name, so it sounded like - "My grandmother - the (old) virgina?"

Forced composure to keep a straight face.

On the final day of the funeral, one of my uncles muttered to us (a few other cousins and myself) just before the service started, "I don't understand why do they have to keep saying 'Ji Bei'? Why can't they just end off with her name?"

As much as I understand the rationale behind the affectionate "sisterly" form of address, but still, I couldn't help agree with my uncle on this account. "Ji Bei" and "Lao Ji Bei" does sound very crude. Unfortunately, in this day and age of twisted-minds, very few people will actually take the term in its purest form.

Thus, for all solemnity of a funeral service and respect for the dead, you could see the bubble above everyone's head at any given inappropriate time :

"My mother/grandmother, the (old) virgina?"

Bad. Very bad.


Through the Looking Glass
I have to admit. This is my first time attending a full-funeral - from the wake to the cremation process. I had always hated attending funeral. I always found excuses for my absences. So this whole funeral thing was quite new to me.

Anyway.....

After the service, we proceeded to the Mandai crematorium in a rented bus. Part of the traditional funeral process. My first time at this crematorium. I learnt then that Mount Vernon crematorium no longer exists and Mandai is the only crematorium in Singapore. I have to say, the new crematorium is a posh place. It is fully-air conditioned, clean and its auditoriums look presentable enough to host seminars. One thing for sure, it so does not feel like a crematorium at all.

So there I was at this superficially respectable crematorium. Yes... I was suppose to be balling my eyes out like all the others but I was pre-occupied with cynical thoughts, especially when we were standing at the viewing hall waiting for the coffin to be reeled in. I stared at that huge glass in front of me whilst waiting for the coffin to be wheeled out, and the words "through the looking glass" played repeated in my head. Funny how the meaning of that classic phrase never crossed my mind but it had to be an incongruous moment like a funeral.... THE moment when everyone else performed the climax of all bawls.....

Is it just me but doesn't a funeral feels like one is holding a remote control with only 3 buttons on it - pause, play and stop? It has an uncanny sort of syncronised crying motion... the perfect script for any soap opera perhaps?

PLAY >
Walk round the coffin after service, bawl. Drama.

PAUSE II
Stop crying. Load coffin into hearse. Start walking behind hearse.

PLAY >
Start crying. Walk a distance. Go up on bus to head for crematorium.

PAUSE II
Stop crying. In bus now. Chatters chatters. Everything back to normal. Pre-cremation service starts. Calm. Time to walk round coffin one last time.....

PLAY >
Turn up crying volume. Is this the best performance yet from the drama queens? Painful moment. Men do cry too.

PAUSE II
Proceed to viewing hall. "Where? Where?", the crowd gushing like some tourists looking for the new hotspot. Someone screams out and points the direction, "There! There!".

"Don't stand at the back. Everyone, move in front so you can see the coffin moving in", the pastor instructs. Raise eyebrow moment

All in position. Silence. The church members start singing some tragic-sounding songs as everyone cranes their head forward to anticipate the first sight of the coffin.

And then.... the first of all bawls start. Dramatic slow-motion effect of coffin automated movement across the isolated room into the cremation chamber with tragic-sounding background music in the viewing hall with a roomful of grieving people is the winning formula for the ultimate tear-jerking masquerade.

Coffin enters cremation chamber.

STOP O
Walk out of viewing hall.
Crying stops completely.

At main foyer :
"Thank you for coming. Please join us for lunch now at xxxxx restaurant"

Yes. Thank you. The movie was good. Playback, no?

Either I am too cynical or too cynical, but I can't help but wonder... are funerals just an escape route for budding soap opera drama queens? I don't deny that some of the tears are real but that whole syncronised crying fashion? I am somewhat baffled. Are the play, pause and stop actually in-built in the human body? I wonder...

Tears. Is that the true yardstick for emotions? I wonder even more.

Tears. Contagious. Cry and the world will cry with you.

I insist there must be a written conspiracy for funerals lying around. Hmm.... let's refer to the manual called "How To Create The Ultimate Funeral"...

Tragic singing at the background is a must. Perfect ambience to aggravate appointed crying drama queens.

Then, build fish-tank viewing hall for grievers to view coffin going into cremation chamber because watching daily decomposition of loved ones through the (literal) looking glass of coffin is not tragic enough.

Seriously now! Does anyone truly needs to watch, in slow-bloody-motion, the coffin entering the cremation chamber? Which demented mind even thought of that concept and thought, "Yeah cool! That is a brilliant concept to have for a crematory!"

Somehow, I must have missed a book on the Know-Hows of funerals in my growing years. I suspect I need to restart elementary school on this subject. Any recommendations?