The brighter side of Funeral Blues

I was captivated by the absolute grief expressed in the poem, “Funeral Blues”, also called “Stop all the clocks”, by British-American poet W.H. Auden. After being gripped by its desolation, I felt gratitude, that I was not experiencing the abject hopelessness like it today, or at this time in my life, knock on wood.

I have been through, mind you, my fair share of grief in life, including devastating losses where the sun, moon, and stars were dead to me, too, and even a Black Hole beckoned. In the same breath, I also learned that the sun always rises, and that it’s imperative to recognize and enjoy the good times in life, the latter of which is a challenge in and of itself, especially for those like me, given that tinge of guilt that always lurks in the background, in empathy to others around, who might be not in the same good place at the same time, at that moment. It seems a bit unfair isn’t it, that we laugh while some cry or brood, and yet, such is life, when each of us is given a pedestal under the sun before being plunged into the invariable dark matter that’s to come. Enjoy the fun in the sun, adamantly, and believe that darkness is temporary, obstinately.

I’d say in an anti-Auden vein that, no, the clocks should not be stopped at any cost. Instead, let’s have them run amuck at a maddening pace, let them race to get us to better and more content times. And sorry Auden, but love does indeed last forever, although not in the same form and shape, but in its brilliant variations. The key is to open up our hearts and recognize its different shades, its many forms and shapes. And sometimes, and especially as you get older, you have to break conventions—why not—to let love into our lives so that its sunny side brightens that dark matter. As long as we don’t hurt and understand, it’s all good in the name of love. So let’s be brave and accept it, from those around and even the universe beyond.

So let’s call on more stars to twinkle, yes, more than the 200 billion trillion stars that exist in the universe. Let’s wink at the light of the sun each morning, even as it blinds us confused at times, and let’s feel mellow in the soft glow of the moon each night. As the French poet Alphonse de Lamartine said in one of my favorite verses of all times:

Mais la nature est là qui t'invite et qui t'aime;
Plonge-toi dans son sein qu'elle t'ouvre toujours
Quand tout change pour toi, la nature est la même,
Et le même soleil se lève sur tes jours.
Œuvres Poétiques Complètes

Translated:

But the nature is there, inviting you and loving you;
Plunge yourself in its bosom that it always opens to you
When everything changes around you, the nature is the same ,
And the same sun rises everyday.

Let’s open our arms for more good, and view life with rose-tinted glasses despite the funeral blues that are sure to come.

Funeral Blues

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message 'He is Dead'.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

W.H. Auden, 1938

Meaningfully (and optimistically) yours,

Anu Prabhala