A Portrait of Death

I have a friend who likes to photograph cemeteries. An odd interest that once made me ask him why? His answer was there was something about the calm of death. I had no clue what he meant. I have never walked inside a cemetery or even showed any interest. Somehow I have always been leery of being anywhere near the dead. But I followed him one day on one of his shoots.

We drove on his bike into the heart of the city, where among the snarling traffic stood a Christian burial ground, flanked by busy roads on all three sides. It was not in use any more he informed me, as the grounds were full. I got off the bike and stepped on to the pavement. My friend found us the small Iron Gate that served as the entrance. The ground was covered by dry golden leaves and looked desolate.

But the moment I stepped in through the gates, something shifted. The sound of the traffic suddenly muted. The grounds were cool and shaded by the ample canopy an old banyan tree. There was calm, a library-like stillness, as if everyone –dead and living – obeyed the rule of silence, but not in any sinister sense.

It was an old grave yard, as the dates on the elaborately carved headstones indicated. Some had four or five generations of family buried side by side - the De’ Silva’s and Gonzales’ enjoyed the quiet repose. My friend took black and white photos with his Nikon SLR. As he started snapping, I found myself walking between the graves, a little leery at the thought of dead bodies. I alternated between quiet calm and sudden spells of heightened awareness when the hairs on my neck prickled for no reason.

Slowly, as the hour progressed, I started to see pictures instead of just headstones. Sometimes it was the angle of the stones, sometime the writing on them, but they were telling a story. I called my friend over and borrowed his camera for a few shots, which he was happy to oblige. Couple of shots later, it was time to leave.

I never got the chance to look at those pictures I took. My friend and I had chosen different career paths and shifted to different cities, with no contact at all. But that day spent on the cemetery made me a little less leery about death had given me a strange sense of peace towards the finality of it.

If you are interested check out this link to some cemetery phototographs on the net http://www.pbase.com/marchael/cemetery