Eulogy

The following is the text of the eulogy given by one of my cousins at the passing away of my Grandmother a few days ago. It is more to preserve her memory than anything else. However, it is a nice read when you have the time.



When I was asked to speak about Aunty Maggie this evening, I was faced with two choices.
One, I could mourn her death.
Two, I could celebrate her life.

Ladies & Gentlemen, I have chosen:

To celebrate her life;

To rejoice at the warm, loving and large-hearted person she was;

To treasure her perfectly played out roles of wife, mother, grandmother, relation and friend;

To revere the memory of her 85 years of life and 60 years of married life;

To cherish her small army of 7 children and 17 grandchildren;

To applaud her great love for both human beings and animals;

To recall the wonderful cook and gracious hostess she was;

To marvel at her monumental memory, which would readily recall not just dates of birth, but also weights at birth;

And to venerate her noble attitude of holding no grudges, and letting bygones be bygones.

Words, however finely crafted, can never pay tribute to someone like Aunty Maggie. So let me share with you some vignettes of Aunty Maggie’s life, that reveal the kind of person she was.

Aunty Maggie was a great teller of ghost stories. ‘Paulu’ and ‘Foka’ were the names of the principal ghosts who kept her grandchildren simultaneously enthralled and terrified!

Aunty Maggie’s skills at finance and bargaining were truly formidable. Her children have fond memories of how she would sit at her window at ‘Holy Cross View,’ the Empress of All She Surveyed. Along would come this fisherman and place his basket by her window. Aunty Maggie would run a critical eye over the catch, and then ask him to quote for it. He would mention a figure, say Rs 400/-. Now you or I would probably counter that with something like Rs 200/-. But Aunty Maggie was made of sterner stuff! She would come back with, hold your breath, 5 rupees! Then the hard bargaining would start, and it would end with Aunty Maggie getting the fish she wanted for the kind of price that we could only dream of. Let me just say that, had Aunty Maggie been in charge of Wall Street, there would be no global financial crisis today, except perhaps for some slight recession in the fishing industry!

One of Aunty Maggie’s outstanding features was her radiant smile. She was one of the few people who would not just talk to you, but would sit you down, hold your hand, smile at you and then speak. But let me tell you about the only recorded occasion when she did not smile! I had a small part in this episode, and as usual, played villain! A cousin of mine and I were supposed to drop Zina back to ‘Holy Cross View’ by 10 p.m., after a function. Unfortunately, we were ten minutes late. Aunty Maggie would neither smile at us nor speak to us that night. We reached Zina to the door and fled the scene furtively like two guilty culprits. Zina was thoroughly embarrassed and asked Aunty Maggie, ”Ma, why didn’t you smile at them and talk to them?” The answer was vintage Aunty Maggie: “Kashen thanchekade ulovnchen putha? Haven mujhen set galuvnk na!” (How could I talk to them child, I haven’t put my dentures)

I do not mean to be flippant, but I am sure that, more than anyone else, Aunty Maggie would not want any of us to sit in a corner with a long face today.

After Zina’s children Akil & Zara were born in Mangalore, Zina recounts how they made the journey to Bangalore on each occasion, with Aunty Maggie in the car, clutching the infant lovingly to herself, not willing to put the child down, throughout the seven or eight hours it took to reach their destination. I am quite certain that until then, and since then, no two infants have had a more comfortable journey from Mangalore to Bangalore!

Let me recite a poem, which is appropriate for today’s situation. It was written by a woman who was close to her mother who had passed away. It goes like this:

Missing Mamma

The sun came up this morning;
It wasn't very bright.
My dark mood casts a shadow;
It's hard to see the light.

We all have just one mother
Now her life on earth is done,
The emptiness and loss we feel
Make it hard to see the sun.

Gone is not forgotten;
Her love remains behind;
She's traveled a new direction -
Love knows no space or time.

We will always love her.
She’ll care for us above.
She’ll send starlight and rainbows
To remind us of her love.

Tomorrow is a brand new day;
May the pain and sadness lighten.
We will remember all her love,
And then the sky will brighten.


Let me end quoting the celebrated Italian conductor Arturo Toscanini, who constantly exhorted his musicians: Play with your hearts, not your instruments.


Ladies & Gentlemen, I unhesitatingly proclaim, that in the sweet symphony that was Aunty Maggie’s life, she played only with her heart.


Thank you.

My Grandmother
By Victoria L Payne


In my Rose Garden of memories
I see you standing there
An angel in disguise
Who taught me how to care.

I long to hear your voice
For real, not in my dreams.
I miss you so much these days
How empty my world seems.

People say time heals all wounds
Some day the pain will subside.
But Grandma I can tell you
I think they must have lied.

The days go by without you
So dreary and so bleak.
The emptiness I’m feeling now
Is strong and I am weak.

In my Rose Garden of memories
I know you’ll always be
For though you’re gone from this mortal world
In my heart you’ll always be.