Roads by Ahmed Patel
 
Roads, especially main roads, are sometimes referred to as arteries. They form part of a network that serves as a facilitator in the transportation of life. Like the anatomical arteries, roads transport things in search of nourishment for themselves, and as a direct consequence, for the larger organism. Hence the numerous metaphors involving blood and labour.

Three years ago today I woke up to arranging a funeral for my mother. She died of an illness some may describe as apathy, while others take the official route and say it was a heart attack. Some also say that she died suddenly or unexpectedly, but I’ve never been one to think of death as anything other than sudden and unexpected. Over the three years I’ve been dealing with her death, I have not yet said, when asked about my mother, ‘Ah, my mom, she died three years ago. She suffered a heart attack. It was sudden and unexpected.’

About two months before my mother suffered her attack and died – suddenly and unexpectedly – I dreamt of her death. I entered the dream when she was already in her casket, waiting to be transported to the cemetery in a hearse. A dark green Toyota hearse. A dark green casket, much wider than a normal casket should be. Four people including myself were carrying the coffin into the hearse but just as we reached the tailgate the two across from me lost their grip and the casket fell to the ground on the one side. The next thing I heard was ‘We are never going to bury her properly’.

Although the dream was a jumbled mess of scenes with sounds here and there, it contained two facts – my mother was dead and arranging her funeral was stressful. What made it stressful, I figured, were all the rituals that had to be performed. It seems that most cultures, religions or whatever, are unanimous in fussing over the dead; so the rituals themselves were not highlighted in my dream. Rather, my subconscious displayed that rituals are problematic and – like death – are unavoidable.

Strangely for a week or so after I had that dream, I expected my mother to die. She didn’t so life went on until she did die, three years ago today.