Death respects no one, be you a queen or a beggar
LIKE millions around the world, I watched the news of the death of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth with much interest. Even though I am not a fan of royalty, I was intrigued by all the attention the death of an old woman got.
Such an outpouring of grief, such a lengthy mourning period, such a lengthy funeral procession, military parades and gun salutes, so many speeches, so many prayers, the slow march of death from one venue to another and oh so much media coverage. And, I forgot, so many flowers, too! The florists must be coining it.
There was nothing but the queen’s death and King Charles on television. At times I felt the British and the media were going overboard and I was irritated.
Queen Elizabeth died in Balmoral Castle in Scotland. From Balmoral the coffin was taken to the Palace of the Holyroodhouse where the public were allowed to view it and pay their respects. Then the funeral procession proceeded along a route lined with thousands of mourners to St Giles Cathedral where the coffin lay overnight and the public were again allowed throughout the night to come and bid farewell to their beloved queen.
The body still has to travel to London with several more days of public viewings, vigils and mourning at Buckingham Palace and Westminster Abbey. Security will tighten up with thousands of police deployed to London to counter crime and terrorism. Then after a state funeral at Westminster on Monday, she will be laid to rest beside her husband of 73 years, Prince Philip, in the King George VI Memorial Chapel at Windsor.
What a long, drawn out funeral for a mere mortal. The pharaohs would have been envious. Agreed, she was a queen of a proud island nation which once ruled the waves, sparked the Industrial Revolution and played a crucial role in the defeat of the Nazi tyrant.
She was the longest-serving British monarch who, despite her royal upbringing and her insistence on all things prim and proper, did not shirk in fulfilling her public duties, rubbing shoulders with countless people from all walks of life, from world leaders and dignitaries to the common man in the street. She was a mother to her family, to her nation, a grandmother, a ceremonial head of state and above all, a majestic queen. Could the world forget such an iconic monarch who had ruled so long? Even India, which was once under colonial rule, had a national day of mourning for the queen. So you could forgive the British public for their outpouring of grief.
But her death brings into focus how different cultures around the world deal with death.
While some spend little time mourning and dispose of the dead as soon as they have closed their eyes, others wail for days. Some have simple, short funerals while others have long, elaborate no-expense-spared ceremonies which can bore you to death. But in the end what does it matter how you are buried? Whether you have 10 people attending your funeral or thousands lining the streets watching the funeral procession, or whether you are buried in a simple pine box or an expensive, fancy oak casket, the truth is that it’s the end of you.