The grave digger

The April sun was merciless. It was not even ten in the morning but the temperature was touching mid-forties. Razzak paused for a while, he looked up from the half-dug trench of six by three feet that he had been digging since the last two hours, the scorching sun had made the ground so hard that it took much effort in digging. Razzak realized that his phone was ringing. Wiping sweat from his eyes, his hands and feet coated with soil, Razzak took the call. He knew his answer even before he had heard what the caller had to say. The rickety speaker of the phone blurted a faint voice which asked Razzak about the progress in digging the grave. In a voice devoid of any emotion, Razzak replied that the grave would be ready before 1 pm. Razzak beckoned his eight-year old son who was standing in a shade. In a slang which would have severely tested the understanding capacity of the connoisseurs of urban language, Razzak ordered his son Jameel to bring him the packet of beedi from the hut. Jameel ran to the ramshackle hut and completed the errand within a minute. Razzak lit the beedi, took a few long puffs, and then continued to dig the grave. Jameel took his place in the shade and watched his father hit the stubborn ground with spade.

Razzak had completed digging the grave much before 1 pm. Taking a pile of excavated soil from the mound he deftly added water from the old can and made several handfuls of mud balls which he placed on one side of the grave. While Razzak neatly piled the loose soil on the two sides of the grave, Jameel organized the three feet by one feet wooden boards one on top of another in an organized way. Razzak lit another beedi and sat in the shade, his taut sun-tanned body belied the fact that he had already seen sixty-four summers.

The graveyard was an oasis with respect to sound pollution, barring an odd crow or a few sparrows there was no other living soul other than Razzak’s family of three on this 2.5 acre wakf land. Although this vast expanse was now the home of countless individuals but all these were buried deep inside six feet soil, resting peacefully oblivious of the cacophony of human joy, sorrow, hatred, envy, wealth, and material endeavors. Deep inside in their resting places, each individual was also far removed from distinctions of status, caste, creed and colour. Razzak had been witness to hundreds of burials. On this scorching April afternoon, as his eyes scanned the open land dotted with graves, Razzak could easily pinpoint the graves of many who always stood aloof when they were alive. Ironically, in death, they all occupied the same six feet space of a grave.

While Razzak’s sight was meandering through the haphazard labyrinth of graves, a sudden murmur made him mindful of the occasion. From the far corner, he could see pallbearers carrying the coffin. A motley crowd of young and old, all sporting white skull caps, followed the coffin. Someone was guiding the men towards the spot where the grave had been dug. Seeing the coffin approach the grave, Razzak stood at his place. A sense of gloom was palpable on the faces of the crowd which had come with the coffin. Razzak’s eyes gleaned the faces to understand the economic condition of the family. This information was vital for Razzak when he would negotiate with the main family member for the expenses to be paid for digging the grave.

It took less than twenty minutes for the white shrouded body to be lowered inside the grave. From a vantage point, Razzak frequently gave instructions how the body was to be placed. Once the body was placed neatly inside the narrow trench at the base of the grave, Razzak went inside the pit to place the wooden boards on the inside trench sealing the cracks with mud balls, the dead body cocooned in the small crater inside the larger grave. On a cue from Razzak, everyone put a handful of soil in the pit and Razzak deposited all the loose soil filling the crater which now had become the final resting place of a yet another human being who had finished his worldly journey. Razzak gave a call asking the members to make the prayers. The crowd which had used this interlude of soil filling to break into groups and exchange pleasantries, turned towards the fresh grave and raised their two hands in a prayer ritual. It took less than five minutes for the silent dua and everyone dispersed. Razzak with Jameel in tow went near the man who had stayed behind while the crowd had dispersed. Razzak demanded wage for digging of grave. Fortunately, the man who had just buried his father, did not question the wage and paid the full amount. Razzak felt happy, he knew he had demanded a higher amount presuming that there would be some haggling. Having got a few hundred more, he could not contain his happiness. 

That night, Razzak bought chicken for his household. Razzak’s wife was happy, for days together she had been extremely frugal. In fact, since morning when someone had come knocking at their hut and asked Razzak to dig the grave, she had sensed that she would invariably cook something good today. On an average Razzak would get a grave digging assignment once every two or three days. Today Razzak had slept in the afternoon after his grave digging assignment, in the evening once it became dark, puffing on a beedi, he silently went to his favorite spot at the trisection of the road. He bought a 250 ml pouch of country liquor and gulped the contents. From the roadside stall he bought two boiled eggs and devoured them as they were some kind of a medicine. After approximately two hours, a heavily drunk Razzak entered his hut. Sakina, his wife, was too versed with Razzak’s habits. She silently placed a plateful of chicken curry and rice before Razzak. Inebriated to the hilt, Razzak ate half of the contents without saying anything. He did not care to wash his hands and crawled to his place where an old rag demarcated his bed on the floor, within minutes he was fast asleep.

The silence of the graveyard was deafening. The silhouette of the graves in the half moonlight could have been a serene place except for the fact that each of these graves had within its lap a human buried inside. Thus, despite the romance of the tranquility, the graveyard was considered a haunted place. And haunted it was, no one ventured to visit the graveyard after sunset. Despite the popular belief, inside the small thatched cottage, Razzak’s family found solace and a means of livelihood. With the waning of the alcohol level in the blood, Razzak woke up at approximately two in the night. He realized his fingers felt sticky. Razzak got up and went outside, it was pitch dark. From a water can, which he had used to make the grave, he spilled water on his hands. At this hour he felt fresh. Razzak lit a beedi and sat on the pedestal of a grave. For five minutes he smoked and then went inside the hut where Sakina and Jameel were in deep sleep. He curled himself on the floor next to Sakina snaking his hand deep inside her blouse. Sakina moaned a passive denial. It took Razzak a mere seven minutes to find the marital bliss. By the time Sakina rearranged her sari, Razzak was snoring.

Razzak did not find any business for the next two days. He would sit or loiter beside the graves in anticipation of someone approaching him to dig a grave. On the third day, he got visitors. Two young boys, with tear laden eyes, approached him to dig a grave. As was customary for the purpose of dimensions, Razzak asked them whether the deceased was a male or a female. The elder of the two boys replied that it was for his mother. The countenance of the boys advertised loudly that they were deep in sorrow. Razzak felt happy and relieved, he went inside his hut and excitedly told Sakina that today he had got work. From underneath the rug Razzak fished out the beedi packet and went outside taking his spade with him.

Razzak’s life had no calendar to follow. Every day was a new day for him. His livelihood depended on a reality of life which signifies the ultimate truth. Each day he would look forward to some unknown visitor bringing the news of someone’s death. Razzak didn’t understand any of these philosophical thoughts. A non-vegetarian meal and a liquor pouch was enough to excite his brain’s pleasure center.

Time was static for Razzak. While the earth rotated bringing a new sun every day, there was no change in his life. Each day started with a long wait which sometimes culminated in a grave digging assignment. It was a Saturday afternoon just before sunset, when Razzak had a couple of visitors on a Royal Enfield motorcycle. The man on the pillion asked Razzak whether he was the man who digs graves. Razzak felt a strange sense of intimidation from these two men. He nodded. The two men on the motorcycle had an uncanny resemblance, they looked brothers except that the man on the pillion seat sported a dark sunglass and had a prominent gold chain on his neck. The man on the pillion, speaking in a commanding tone, asked Razzak to prepare a grave before midnight. Usually, the persons who came to Razzak for the purpose of grave digging invariably displayed some grief, however in these two visitors on the motorcycle Razzak felt a threatening arrogance. The two visitors left the graveyard without turning back. Razzak felt frightened.

With a flickering kerosene lamp as the only source of light, Razzak waited for the coffin to arrive. It was eleven in the night and it was extremely unusual for a burial to happen at this hour. Razzak heard the sound of the vehicle. He waited. Four men pulled out a stretcher from the black van and walked towards the grave. Razzak recognized the two men who had come to him in the evening. The men brought the stretcher with a body and laid it on the side of the grave. Two men caught hold of the ends of the cloth which covered the body and lowered the body into the grave. One of the persons asked Razzak to fill the grave. There was no prayer or a semblance of any religious tradition. A petrified Razzak stood at a distance watching a strange burial. The four men hastily walked to their van and left the graveyard.

Razzak could not sleep the whole night. He realized something was amiss but his limited knowledge and restricted exposure to outside world made him just a silent spectator to what had happened on the Saturday night. Two days had passed, nothing happened. Suddenly on the Tuesday afternoon, a police van came inside the graveyard. As usual Razzak was sitting on a grave’s pedestal puffing his beedi. The unusual sight of the police van made him stand up. An inspector approached him and asked whether he was the grave digger. Razzak nodded his head. The Inspector asked Razzak which graves he had dug in the last few days. Razzak’s brain went into overdrive. Even his limited intelligence prompted him that he should be cautious. Razzak pointed out to a few recent graves but purposely missed out the grave which he had dug on Saturday night. The inspector walked aimlessly among the graves, probably trying to find a clue to some missing evidence, but all the graves looked similar. The dead certainly don’t speak. The police van left the place within thirty minutes.

Razzak felt frightened for the next few days. Even at night he dreamt that police had come searching for him and that he was speaking the truth. Nothing however happened in real life. Razzak’s routine became normal in a few days and within a week he forgot the incidence of the Saturday night. Later in the week, on a visit to the liquor shop Razzak overheard some talk of a murder in the city. The hushed conversation which preceded this news pointed out that the matter was serious and it involved the local MLA. However, for Razzak, his pouch was more important than any other matter on this earth. Today he complimented his liquor dose with a plate of kebabs from the roadside kiosk. While he walked through the lane to his graveyard hut, his intoxicated mind conjured the image of an amorous Sakina and some spicy non vegetarian food.

It was at around ten in the morning when Razzak had a few visitors. The men, three in number, came on a car and they all wore white kurta and pyjama. The man in the front, exuding a forceful arrogance, gestured Razzak to come near him. He told Razzak to dig a grave on the spot where the lone tamarind tree was giving some shade. Razzak meekly nodded his head. The men took Razzak’s phone number and left the graveyard.

Razzak started digging the grave at the place pinpointed by the men who had come fifteen minutes before. While his hands were busy with the spade, Razzak’s mind reminisced the events of the last ten days. Strange things were happening. The curious burial on that Saturday night and the events of this morning. The graveyard had always been a place where power, arrogance and strength had no importance, but the events of the last ten days had defied this paradigm. Razzak’s mind was simple and his thoughts were uncomplicated. Thus, he ignored all the weird thoughts which his mind had conjured and focused on the work at hand.

The entourage which accompanied the coffin was huge. Amongst the crowd, one could see large number of people who were not sporting the traditional Muslim skull caps. The body was carried on shoulders and placed just near to the grave. Three men helped the body to be lowered inside the grave. Razzak watched the ritual from a vantage point but today he did not give any instructions. A man with long beard and in black robes had come with the coffin, he was giving instructions as to how the body had to be placed inside the grave. Watching the crowd of people jostling for a peep into the grave, Razzak saw something which made him curious. He recognized someone. His mind played back the memory of the two men who had come to him on that Saturday evening on the Royal Enfield motorcycle. Razzak remembered that the man standing today near the grave was the man who was driving the two-wheeler on that Saturday evening. He also remembered that this man had come with the dead body, carrying it on a stretcher on that night. From the time he recognized this person, Razzak’s eyes followed him. Today the man looked extremely sad. His eyes looked puffy. It seemed that the deceased was a close relative of this man.

It took another hour for the large crowd to disperse. A few people were still standing beside the grave. Razzak wanted to get his wage and therefore slowly made his way towards the small group of persons still standing in front of the grave. Razzak found that within this small group of men stood the person whom he had recognized as the one who had come to him on Saturday evening driving the big motorcycle. This person, Razzak saw, was weeping unconsolably and others were trying to empathize with him. Razzak stood beside the crowd. Someone sensed his thoughts. The weeping man pulled out a wad of currency and gestured in the direction of Razzak. Razzak took the money and preferred to silently go into his cottage.

That evening when Razzak went outside on the road for a celebratory liquor pouch, he found that all the shops were closed. An eerie silence, mimicking a curfew, was palpable on the street. Razzak went towards the liquor shop, he became happy, the shop was open. Razzak bought a pouch and found the vacant corner where he opened the pouch and squeezed its content in his mouth. As usual, some diehard drunkards were gossiping loudly after their own quota of alcohol. Razzak overheard that in a gang war, the local MLA has been murdered and this was the reason why the market was closed.

Razzak returned to his cottage. Nothing happened in the evening. The next day was once again a new day for Razzak and he waited for another unknown visitor. Days melted into seasons and Razzak’s livelihood remained the same. Winter came and went. It was March and something strange happened. One day when Razzak went on the road, he found that all the shops on the road were closed. Someone told Razzak that the Government has ordered a curfew and no shops would open. As he walked towards the liquor shop, he saw very few people on the street. All people had covered their faces with fancy looking cloth which was tied from behind. Fortunately, the liquor shop was open. In the gossip Razzak got to know that a strange disease had come and because of the disease the Government has ordered everything to close down. Razzak found this strange but he didn’t feel perturbed, at least the liquor shop was open.

For the last two days, Razzak was a very busy man. Something happened which had not happened for a long time. Razzak got three assignments to dig graves in a single day. Even Sakina was happy. Razzak gave some money to Jameel to buy a packet of chips. That evening Sakina brought a packet of Maggi chowmein and cooked the same for herself and Jameel.

Razzak realized that the increase in demand for grave digging was not a fluke. Every day the number was increasing. He became worried. Strangely very few people would come with the coffin and no one would offer to touch the body for putting inside the grave. Invariably Razzak had to help.

A few days went like this and Razzak found that the bodies which were coming to the graveyard were not in the traditional white shroud but were packed in plastic bags. Razzak became skeptical. Sometimes he had no helping hand and he had to drag the body up to the grave. The joy of increased money as a result of more graves became a subject of concern for Razzak. He prayed to God. For the first time in his life, he felt frightened of death.

It was an hour after midnight that Razzak felt that his body was aching. He sensed his body was warm. Razzak prodded Sakina who was fast asleep. He told Sakina that he was having fever. Sakina put a hand on his forehead and confirmed that Razzak had fever. Sakina told Razzak that for the last several days he had been working nonstop and therefore he was tired. She went to sleep. Razzak felt sick but managed to sleep.

The next morning Razzak felt extremely weak, he could barely stand. Sakina felt concerned and gave Razzak a tulsi leaf decoction. Razzak didn’t get up from his bed. In the evening he started feeling difficulty in breathing. Sakina didn’t know what to do, in the graveyard there was no living soul where she could find any help. She sat beside Razzak stroking his forehead. By eleven in the night, Razzak was gasping for breath. It was at around one in the night that Razzak’s breathing stopped.

Sakina was crestfallen, she wept her lungs out but no one listened. She yelled in front of graves forgetting that the dead don’t respond. Jameel stood dumb, bewildered at the events unfolding in front of him. Sakina had no idea when she fainted. When she came to her senses, she could hear the morning azaan from the far mosque. In a reflex action, Sakina touched the forehead of Razzak. The lifeless body had no warmth left; the skin was cold. Sakina again went into a frenzy of crying and yelling. She ran outside towards the road, the road was almost empty, a few policemen stood guard at the intersection. Sakina screamed and cried but got no help. She ran further and up to the liquor shop. A few haggard looking persons were sitting on a bench in front of the liquor shop. One of them stood from his place and asked Sakina why she was yelling and crying. Sakina told them about Razzak. On hearing this news, they both consoled Sakina and followed Sakina to her hut.

A cot was placed outside the hut and Razzak’s body was placed on it. In the afternoon a JCB machine trudged inside the graveyard. The JCB located an open space to work and dug a pit. A silent Sakina with a sulking Jameel stood at the door of the hut. Since there was no one to perform any ritual, the JCB put its plough beneath the cot on which Razzak’s body was kept. The JCB lifted the cot and deposited it in the pit. For the next ten minutes, the JCB moved back and forth to fill the pit with the soil. The two men who had accompanied Sakina from the liquor kiosk remained standing till the JCB worked.

For the first time in Sakina’s ten-year married life, night descended in the graveyard without the presence of Razzak. Her mind was incapable of any decisions. Despite the deep loss that she felt, she realized Jameel had not eaten since last night. She looked into the tin boxes for some rice. It was at that moment that she heard a knock at the door. She peeped through crack in the door, two men were standing outside. She recognized, they were the same persons who had helped her in the morning, an unmistakable hard smell of country liquor came when one of the men spoke. In a wavering voice the man said ‘sister we have brought something for you and child to eat’. Saying this the man handed Sakina two large plastic bags. The men left. The graveyard again became silent.

A hundred years have passed since this incident, the story of Razzak has now become a folklore. The man who dug graves for hundreds of humans, could not find the same for himself. It is indeed difficult to decipher divine justice.