Thou art dust and unto dust thou shalt return

Beautifully illustrated. Thou art dust and unto dust thou shalt return uttered by the priest on Ash Wednesday. When he marks your forehead with a cross of ash. This sentence has for some reason reverberated through my writer's mind from a very young age. The finality and the fragility of our human bodies cannot be more succinctly extrapolated than by this sentence. We would kneel to have the ash emblazoned on our foreheads, with some of it falling into our eyes and distracting us as children. But looking into the mirror later one sees beyond the ritual. The ash signified the end of life. The beauty of the original Latin, “Memento, homo, quia pulvis es, et in pulverem reverteris,” was brought home to me by my Uncle priest - Father Simon Furtado, a Jesuit, during one of our many conversations about the finality of death after my Dad’s passing. And if literally translated in traditional English it is, “Remember, O man, that dust thou art, and to dust thou shalt return” (Genesis 3:19 )

On our foreheads This is pretty humbling information for us who think we humans are infallible. And humility also comes from the word humus or, ‘down to earth’. In the Gospel reading for the day, Jesus reminds us that all that we have here has been created from ‘dust’ and can return to ‘dust’. He reminds us that we should instead be placing our heart on the eternal and spiritual things that last forever in heaven. “. . . To dust you shall return” (Genesis 3:19). Although in creating mankind, God has lifted us up from our lowly origin, we are cautioned against pride. All our earthly goods are destined to be lost. Everything we have, all our worldly possessions, will one day turn to dust, just as the great ancient empires of Egypt and Babylon, Greece and Rome have crumbled. Even before then, time, age, illness and “doctor’s orders” can take away our taste for chocolate, an Indian sweet, or our ability to enjoy a fast car. Let us ruminate on the point, that one day our bodies will fail and die and naturally revert into the dust they originated from.

We all turn into dust Guess with my mother’s passing and my helping to ‘dress’ her before she was laid out, I realised all she ‘went’ with on that final journey, was her favourite blue lace blouse and a pair of black trousers, that I had chosen earlier with my second sister and kept aside in the cupboard. A cupboard FULL of clothes and scarves and shoes and shawls and coats. Other cupboards with Linen and crockery and the kitchen with utensils and white goods. She took NOTHING of any of it. The enormity of that thought hit me square in the face - SHE - TOOK - NOTHING. And as I carefully sort and give away all she treasured through her life. I watch sick to my gut as the servants squabble for her clothes. They demand her things as they had ‘worked’ for her, forgetting that they had been paid wages and nothing was for free. Humankind is basically greedy I thought, as they grabbed and wrapped up her things, to spirit away a lifetime of collection. The frailty and the fragility of our existence comes to haunt me and I suddenly want to register my own will. I have written several over the years, but seeing the overpowering greed all around me for Mum's finances, I call my lawyer with a draft and want to sort whatever I have right down to the last detail, to prevent any one sibling taking advantage of the others. These are siblings that we thought we knew and trusted-- but sadly there is no trust left.

“Remember, O man, that dust thou art, and to dust thou shalt return” --There is something about the finality of the sentence that touches us on a fundamental level. We are invited to see ourselves as dust again, to detach ourselves from the things of this world and empty ourselves so that we might be filled instead with God’s “breath of life,” that is, with his eternal Spirit. We need to pray, --“A clean heart create for me, O God, and a steadfast spirit renew within me” (Psalm 51:12), and engage in penitential practices like abstaining from food and charitable giving of our material goods. It feels good to just give away a lot of her possessions to a poor school, through a priest friend. And then my mind moves to search for another reading that I remember hearing in church which is like a corollary to turning into dust -- ‘Lay not up to yourselves treasures on earth: where the rust and moth consume, and where thieves break through and steal. But lay up to yourselves treasures in heaven: where neither the rust nor moth doth consume, and where thieves do not break through nor steal. For where thy treasure is, there is thy heart also.’ Matt. 6:20-21. And I begin to give away my own things and spend rather than save and hoard --- for whom?

And unto dust we shall return One generation passes away, and another generation comes..." [Ecclesiasticus 1].In a sense, there is both joy and sadness in the passing of a parent - sadness at death but joy at life, the life to come.In today’s world where the children do not live with us, making our final passing easier for them with finite time, its good if we gift away and turn minimalists. Strangely my boys are already minimalists and do not allow hoarding. Infact the older one says if we do not use something for a year give it away, we don't need it. Death doesn't frighten me and I happen to love the idea of mortality. Don't get me wrong: I'm no middle-aged spiritualist yearning to be with God, brooding on the morbid and the morose. I'm certainly not welcoming my demise, but I'm not resisting it either. I trust that it will come in its perfect time. Until then, I want to live, but shunning the need to hoard and keep.

What we are finally reduced to -- dust. The crisp awareness that this too shall pass brings life into focus. The finite gives life its contour. Limitations of time, energy, resources and awareness shape our choices. Choices shape our life journey. In the end, these outlines form the boundaries of our lives. Within those boundaries, lie our accomplishments, our contributions, our creations, our joys, our love received and expressed and the markers for continued evolution into our next life. These boundaries beget the magic and the measure of our lives. I want to believe that I had a life well-lived. When I shuffle off this sweet mortality, my body will indeed return to dust. I hope that a beloved someone will take that burnt ash and spread it on the winds over my little village of Pilerne in Goa. Let my dust return to dust, replenishing Mother nature and the finality of the words that breathe --“Remember, O man, that dust thou art, and to dust thou shalt return” rings across the universe. And my spirit will fly.

As we age do we turn into our parents?

Mum taught me Geography in my school -- Convent of Jesus and Mary, New Delhi As much as we see ourselves as unique individuals, it's inevitable that many of us turn into our parents at some point, given that they raised us and continue to be a part of our lives as we mature.However, the morph seems to happen suddenly, such as one day noticing you've adopted Mum’s habit, as I have, of making pickles and jams every week, or scratching my upper lip with my lower teeth, or adopting all things green in the garden like Dad did ---a new study suggests the timing isn't so random at all. According to research from U.K. surgeon Julian De Silva, M.D., women are more likely to start their transforming into Mom or Dad at age 33. In the survey of 2,000 men and women, over half of women said that in their early thirties, they stopped rebelling against their parents and started acting more like them.

The engagement photo which the photo shop turned into a poster to woo new customers The process, he suggests, coincides with women becoming moms, themselves. In other words, in the early years of motherhood, women turn into a combination of their moms and dads. "We all turn into our parents at some point in our lives—and that is something to be celebrated," says Dr. De Silva. "Becoming parents is the main trigger and lifestyle factors are also important."

Wanted this in my latest book which they could not oblige In case you're wondering if the process of turning into your parents has already begun for you, the study suggests a few signs, such as having the same pastimes-- like I enjoyed studying further like my Mum did and age was not a number. Mum did her masters at age 50 and then I was offered a fellowship to do my PhD which was done when I was 50 too! But it did not stop with my generation-- my eldest son decided to go back to studying, but in the UK having seen me study. His cheeky remark -- “ if my old lady can, so can I.” and he came out with a distinction! Using the same adages when speaking or lecturing, making the same foods and particularly for me making the identical breakfast like she fed us are other commonalities between my Mum and me. I get up and make chappaties every single day, no matter how busy I am, ( except on a Sunday) like my mother did. I even cook north Indian style as most of our life we lived in Delhi and Mum had a north Indian menu in the home.

Aeronautical engineer Dad! But as I ruminate, the biggest similarity is an obsessive love for books and reading. My parents inherited and added to a massive library from my paternal grand-parents. We would lie for hours reading in both grandparents homes during the holidays and weekends. Weekends also meant spending long hours in the garden. Repotting, weeding and generally sprucing up the garden. There was a lot I learned from my Dad which I enjoy doing today. It’s second nature to me now. And happily I find many of these positive traits in my sons today.

My older boy and his baby girl in Malta My sons have imitated my mothers and now my implicit love for only good quality furniture. I populated our home with only superior antique furniture bought from an auction house where a Mr Pacheco held an auction every Sunday and I picked up beautiful furniture at a reasonable price. Today the boys have homes with beautiful furniture in the countries they live in. Like me they wait for estate sales to pick up only top quality furniture. The US home has the most gorgeous carved furniture and paintings from an old Doctor’s estate. And he has a collection of clocks all ticking and chiming like mine! The UK guy is so house proud he probably heard me nagging his Dad! His house is absolutely beautiful, especially now that he has had his garden landscaped and is spectacular. Easily able to win in a garden competition, it’s that fabulous. I can spend the whole day working in it, we all do when we visit.

Grandmother and first grand daughter. Over six months ago we sold a pair of apartments that I owned as the renters were too dirty for my tolerance. Instead we bought a flat closer to us. The garden was an old dirty, dry strip which we revamped in six months into an absolutely gorgeous space. Infact we got a better rent because of the garden! Whether we find ourselves echoing our parent’s opinions, or recognising yourself saying something you’d normally hear them say, it’s a safe bet that it’ll happen to all of us at some point. But apparently, an actual age has been specified by researchers at Harley Street, as the one we can officially expect to turn into our parents.

A picture book garden in London The study makes for wonderful reading -- 52% of the study’s women participants said they reckoned they’d ‘turned into’ their mothers between the ages of 30 and 35. Of the 2000 people asked, 26% said they didn’t notice the change until their late 30s, while a much smaller 7% said it wasn’t until they were over the age of 50.And a further 5% said they noticed the transformation happening much earlier, in their 20s.

Oriental lillies in Tennessee For men, it is a bit later, at 34, that they found themselves turning into their fathers, with many confessing that they felt it most when they became fathers themselves. I like to think that they picked up a lot from me and my parents too. It’s not that women turn only into their mothers and men into their Dads. It could be a mix according to what their brains absorbed and they automatically use now, as they mature and age.

A lot that one learns from experience

The barely used fridge which took forever to sell After gaining an all round experience of being executor of my parents' wills, I can surely become a consultant for others faced with the same burden. Take it on, head on, as after all it is YOUR inheritance. And don't let any bullies get the better of you. If there are no ethics, take recourse to law.Sadly that is the ONLY way forward if there is no respect. So, the first thing is -- keep notarised copies of your parents wills. We are so busy living our lives and our parents are still hale and hearty when their wills are being made. Then there is the question of embarrassment -- we look away, we say, oh! Don't talk about dying. And it’s the clever and smarter ones who get hold of POA’s. Check the POA and caution the parent of being too generous. THAT was my first mistake.

Taken by the scrap dealer finally as nothing was working Remember the nominee is the one who has to release the funds once the parent dies. Careful there, be sure your nominee is someone who considers their siblings and not just themselves. But that's not a worry really because in a court of law the nominee has to hand over the funds to the family. Clearing the family home is a massive task. There is furniture which could have come down generations. In my case massive furniture which had come down from my grandparents time. All made of rosewood. But, because it is authentic, the pieces will sell if you are not greedy with the prices and are looking at just a good home for the pieces. In Spite of that I am quite sure my parents would have been pleased that I got a decent price for everything.Advertise on FB so you don't spend on advertising which is expensive.

Mums machine table on which her prized Bernina stood When it comes to personal effects, that is the most painful. I could not get myself to go into the toilet cause I could smell Mum’s Pear soap which was her most favourite and see her false teeth still in a bowl. Took me a month or more to finally gather up courage and make three large bundles of all her clothes and linen and give it all away to the servants. My friend and banker advised me how to do it and I am so glad I listened to her. Make three bundles of everything and number the bundles. Let them choose a number and give them five minutes to put it all in a bedsheet and leave. No choosing, no pulling from others bundles, no discussion. Take the bundle with the number you chose and leave. Ofcourse you will get a bossy one who tries to tell you what to do. Stand your ground and ask them to leave. Exchange elsewhere, do as you please once you leave, but no choosing and no leaving anything behind. By the time my mother died her beautiful crockery was reduced to single pieces. There was a set of broken cups from a set I adored as a child. A teapot without a lit and a chafing dish lidless too. Give away your good things before you are taken over by the servants. I cried to see the worthless bits and pieces left. I remember packing them individually in newspaper as a child and putting them into trunks when we got posted from one place to another. All of them arrived perfectly fine and Dad washed them and put them away. Finally I could not bear it any more, we brought in a scrap man to take most of the odd pieces and cleared out the rest to an orphanage through a priest.

Teak beds which took ages to sell as well. I am glad we never allowed my remaining parent to own property, as I know what the outcome would have been. That is one headache which we saved ourselves. A headache I have seen families despair over. I knew where the single flat would have gone and dug my heels in from the word go. Think logically and save yourself a lot of extra headache later. There are greedy ones in every family. If there is jewelry then value the damn thing. I still have to go through the torture of valuing all of it, but I will. Once it’s done then the pieces will be given away as per Mums directives.There will be weeping and gnashing of teeth but believe you me, that's the least of your problems. Mum told me what she wanted to do and it will be done.

The trolley on which there were always tablemats and coasters to set the table with White goods, no matter how old or how new, always get sold for little or nothing. It's difficult to sell, and we know as we bought my sister's tenants washing machine - an LG with all the bobs and whistles for half the price. Our old washing machine was sold for FOUR thousand. It's shocking, but that's the way white goods are valued. Everything is gone at last. The house is clear and clean. I can sit back and relax and have the time now to check on the finances handled by my other siblings. Ask for details, you have a right. It’s not their money, it was your parents and they are expected to render good stewardship. Go to professional auditors, in our case we have an inhouse one, who has an eye of an eagle. I can't wait to see the fireworks, after years of high handedness with money which was not theirs to waste. If they don’t come clean, there are always the courts where the judges will demand what they refuse to give you. In a court of law, the most twisted come straight and clean. Put through the cleansing fire of truth, and I have no qualms any more of wringing a couple of necks in the bargain. Have waited patiently for it.

The Flower of Bethlehem, my parents favourite flower.

The buds which the plant throws out once a year. There are many plants that we tend to ignore,as they are not impressive to look at. The ‘Star of Bethlehem' is one such plant. It is a cactus with strange flat 'leaves' and tall stems. Plus even though it needs the support of a tree or a fence, it is not a parasite. Through the year it will grow quietly stretching itself with it’s flat ugly leaves and is usually just shoved into a corner, like my brother did. He just planted it against an uglier Christmas tree growing at the back of the garden. Lucky I watched it grow and nurtured it as I knew how my mother adored the plant.

The stunning flower that blooms for one night The 'Star of Bethlehem' in our garden flowered this week and it was an emotional moment for us as Mum had only just passed.When it bloomed my Dad would bring in the pot in our old Bangalore bungalow and give it pride of place in the verandah. Then Mum or Dad would phone us and we would arrive in the dead of night to enjoy the beauty of the flower which would die with the first rays of the morning sun.

Apparently a house in Mangalore. Must have been breath taking. Mum was so proud of her plant and Dad very gentlemanly organised coffee for all the neighbours, who came in to enjoy the spectacle. So in true Hayes Road tradition, I broke off one bloom and took it around the building to show interested flower lovers. Like Mum I was happy to enjoy their oohs! and aahs and promised to show them the bloom when it did come on the plant itself!

The beauty of the pristine white flower Once a year, the plant will come into its own and bring much joy to all plant lovers. Its nocturnal blooming and strong fragrance have made this plant very popular and as soon as it flowers, I get requests from all over the city for a piece. Ofcourse I will give everyone a piece as they are the easiest plant to grow. The plant is tropical in nature and easy to grow in Bangalore. One just has to stick a piece into some rich compost and it will obligingly throw roots and grow into another plant.

A giant bloom as I fed it well with compost Its giant blooms appear in the dead of the night and disappear before dawn. So when I saw the buds appear one day while feeding the garden a meal of compost, I decided to put on my alarm to avoid missing the spectacle and remember my generous parents who loved them. 'The spectacular bloom symbolises Christ's birth in a manger. Look inside the open flower', said my Mum while we were kids, explaining the various flower parts, 'and you will see angels hovering around, announcing the birth of Jesus who is wrapped in a flower-decked bed and the 'stable' in the backdrop (the big petals) with a star above.' Absolutely spectacular, the flower amazes one with its beauty.

A few hours to enjoy the scent and then it's gone forever. The plant takes a few years before it begins flowering. Just be patient. It needs to establish and grow to a certain height to be able to flower. Feed it wet waste compost and watch it grow and make sure the pot has a few little earthworm friends which help to aerate the soil.

Having to get jewelry appraisal done.

Go to a branded jewelery house for appraisal When one has to share jewelry at the passing of a loved one, the best way out of a sticky situation is to get it appraised by a professional jeweler. Just like one has to go to a lawyer to see that you are handling the will within the stipulated legal laws, one goes to a branded jeweler to get a legal appraisal. So I put together whatever my Mum had left of her jewelery which had been listed and handed over to me. I hate doing stuff like this, but Mum was immobile at the time and so she requested me after instructing me about what to do. Plus I was pushed into it literally by a brother who seemed to feel whoever was handling it at the time, needed to be changed. So off I went to the bank and just signed the locker agreement which was in Mum’s name and by virtue of his POA I was made signatory and operator of her locker. Everything was fine as she had made a list in her handwriting and all I did was keep the key.

Very interesting to see how he does it. We sat together, my mother and I looking at the little bits and pieces left of her jewelery and she told me who should get what. Her wedding set was to be sold to one sister and the money divided between the girls only. . I wish she had handled her gifts herself, of the frugal pieces that she had, but it was not to be. Mum lost her cognitive skills and was unable to give me any instructions other than the ones she did when the key was handed over. The locker remained locked and I wrote the number down on the keychain, lest I forget over the years. Then I left to study in Europe and while I was away, the jewelry remained locked and sadly Mum really never used any of it.

Watch the video, see how he checks the diamonds. Then when I returned from Europe, she was already in the home for the aged and wearing jewelry was not an option any more. The pair she had on was stolen within the week of her asking me for it. I will never forget her demanding her wedding set and wearing it for my son’s weddings. To safeguard it from the servants, I put one relative incharge of removing it at the end of the function and keeping it safe for me to return to the locker. That was the last time she ever wore her own wedding set again and that remains the only piece of value in the jewelery box. But sadly time moves on, Mum has moved to a better place and now it’s time for the jewelry to be taken out of the locker and shared among the siblings. I am very surer all my siblings have the most exquisite jewelery but will demand equal shares.

The stone checker which is amazing So, what must one do? Go to an appraiser, never mind the cost and value the pieces of jewelry.Especially if you have nasty grabbing siblings asking where is this and where is that? Thank God Mum gave me a handwritten list so I have that as proof. I remember clearly in my Dad’s time. They sat around the table and each brother and his wife chose what they wanted taking a turn each. Quietly, with no fuss I watched them as my young cousin played on the dining table, being fed soft pieces of chappatie by his mother. It was done with such elegance and civility and then all sat down to a lovely tea organised by my mother.

Calibration of every bangle is done -- checking purity of golc That was another time and another place and that kind of gentility does not exist today.

The importance of being an executor

My generous frugal parents My mother passed away and the POA which had been granted to another became invalid. Then my power as an executor kicked in but I did not know what that meant. So I was advised to approach a lawyer and work only along with his advice, especially since I have nasty, warring siblings and spouses. This is what the lawyer said and should help anyone in my position. An Executor is the person who disposes of or oversees the settlement of the assets of the deceased person in accordance with the wishes of the deceased testator, as enumerated in the Will. The executor derives the powers to dispose of the estate of the deceased testator in terms of the Will. The executor's main duty is to carry out the instructions to manage the affairs and wishes of the deceased person's estate. The executor is appointed either by the testator of the will (the individual who makes the will like in this case my parents) or by a court, in cases wherein there was no prior appointment.The executor gets legal authority to carry out the instructions in the Will. At last I was in control of handling my parents property, after being forced to watch from afar for over a decade, with a mother who had no cognizable faculties for several years.

The Last Supper Dad was so proud of graces a buyers home now. A friend in the US said -- remember your parents made YOU an executor of their will. They expect you to lead and execute their will. This is your home, shame on anyone who can’t respect that and you can legally get them to step back. Life takes many turns and one learns as one goes along. In my will I have added that if any beneficiary contests my will they automatically lose their inheritance. Plus viewing my mother’s horrific situation of being kept alive, I have made a Living will where ONLY my son who is a doctor, will make the decision on how I am to be treated, no one else. He is a cardiologist in the US whose patients' lives are in his hands. That is all I need. Please ask any of my siblings if they would have liked to live like Mum and they say oh no! But it was fine to do it to Mum? Medicate her, nebulise her, exercise her till she lingered in dreadful pain? By having your executors either jointly or singly handing your assets, it gives them the freedom to see clearly and with power. Keeps the greedy troublesome ones out. Always go to a lawyer if you are an executor, so there are no loopholes you might not be aware of. Keep all emails which can be used as evidence because when it comes to money, greed is the overpowering factor. Tread the safe path,and keep everything transparent. Keep your own council and your own dignity.

Dads desk plus chair bought by another who will value it. When I was giving up and told the lawyer I did not want to handle this clearance of my parents movable goods, the lawyer who has known the family since childhood said,” Your parents chose you! Not them! Your parents knew they could depend on you. Your parents knew you were capable, don’t let them down. Ignore the jealous ones, every family has greedy black sheep.” And so I shoulder on, everyday clearing and cleaning and looking at my parents picture’s in the flat for strength. People have come into my life and just helped buy all the furniture which belonged to the family since my grandparents time. A young priest - Fr Adrian, my sons school mate, has been a wonderful support as well. He has taken things like a huge carpet, crockery, books and lots of other things for his poor school to help me clear. I think it’s Mum and Dad helping from above. “Once it’s done just cut yourself off from the siblings if they are toxic,” advises a friend and that’s exactly my plan. Work with a lawyer to strengthen your hand. And very important that one works with an unbiased lawyer. Life brings one new experiences, take them head on, says the advocate-- this is YOUR inheritance and do not tolerate interference. OR get a restraining order because some people don’t learn any other way.