The Funeral

The casket was in the courtyard of the mosque, covered in the red Turkish flag and on top of a marble slab. Three friends were just a couple of meters away, talking to each other in hushed voices.
A.:“I’m 31 and this my first funeral. ”
B. “Really? I’ve been to a couple before. And I’m younger than you.”
C.: “Explains a lot.”
B.:”Ah, just shut up.”
A. and C. grinned secretly while B. started looking around. The courtyard was full with visitors who were paying their respects to the family members. The only son, their friend was greeting everyone at the entrance. He was wearing a suit with a tie. His eyes were red shot, his cheeks glimmering with the occasional tear streak. The streaks shiny reflection reminded B. of the slugs from his childhood, the shiny paths they would leave behind while crawling around in the grass. He turned back to his friends.
B.: “It’s unnerving but I do smile a lot on such occasions. I had a constant grin during my grandmother’s funeral. People didn’t get upset though, they knew it was a tick.”
C.: “Yeah, look around. Everyone is laughing or smiling once in a while. It’s not just a tick, they look genuinely happy from time to time. They see old acquaintances, old friends, someone tells an old story about the deceased and everyone just lets loose. I want to be like that too. Better, I want people to laugh at my funeral. I’ll even employ a standup comedian; give him the entire background story about me so he can come up with some hilarious sketches during the funeral. ”
A.: “I’m game too. I’ll also throw a party for my old geezer, he won’t object at all. Pass all the mosque and prayer shit. Give a decent Orleans style funeral march, handout some free booze. Get it over with.
B.: “Worth trying out. What I want to pass is the grave part. I don’t want to end in a dark and cold pit. I want cremation, so you guys could scatter my ashes to the sea. But there are no cremation facilities in Turkey. I think you guys will have to rent a pide oven, slide me in with a humongous wooden spatula and fire it up.
C.:”Now that’s gross. And what if pide ovens aren’t that powerful? You’ll start smoking and leaking stuff, bleah.”
B.:”Come on, you’ll find a way. I’ll let you even use some part of me so you can use it on your plants. With all the shit I’ve been eating recently, I’ll turn into the best fertilizer you’ll be able to find on this side of the planet. …” Their discussion was cut short when the Imam arrived and the crowd started getting in line for the prayer.
The Imam went through the prayer in an unhurried fashion. Everything was finished in 10 minutes. The casket was shouldered by friends and family members and carried away to the family grave. By then some of the attendees had already left, hurrying to work or some important appointment. The 3 friends gathered outside and pondered what to do next. They decided to attend the final part of the funeral but they were at a loss at which direction to go. The courtyard of the mosque was filled with people and they had lost sight of their friend. At the last moment C. saw the distinctive red of the flag on top of the casket. They hurried to catch up. The procession was just entering through the cemetery gate. The cemetery itself was a jumbled mess of various graves which were crammed in no distinct order. There was no space or path to navigate through this stone garden so they had to step on other graves to make it near. When they arrived the casket was being just opened, revealing the body which was covered in a white shroud. The family members held the body by the shroud and lowered him to their friend who had jumped into the open grave. He and the local mosque worker positioned the body while the Imam started chanting prayers into his microphone which was attached to a portable loudspeaker. The imam with his microphone and rhythmic chanting reminded B. of a MC who was improvising to a crowd, trying to gain time as the positioning took longer and longer.

Their friend, in an open grave with a perfect suit all covered in dirt, the rhythmic chanting of the electric imam, the family members lined around the grave like light bulbs around a make-up mirror, all in the middle of a maze of graves…the 3 friends were soon hypnotized. Each lost in their own thoughts, each having simultaneous fantasies about their own funerals. Wondering and knowing that theirs with all their pomp and eccentricity would not be able to rival this surreal scene.