The Keeper of the Smasana

The stench of death enveloped us even before we entered through the gate. It was strong, intruding. It made me want to vomit. Unable to control the urge, I began to breathe through my mouth. I wondered how she managed the job for the past three years. 

Her face reflected her struggle, her determination...

She was certainly an anomaly in the field: a woman, a Christian. When the last keeper fell ill, she took up the work that no one was willing to do and with no prior experience. She did it to support her family. Her husband left years ago and she singlehandedly raised her two daughters, educated them and now, married them. Yet in Malayalee society, a strong independent woman always becomes subject to talk. We saw this firsthand. 

As I started setting up the camera outside the gates to take the establishing shots, one of the men in the neighborhood approached our reporter. I signaled her to ask him to appear on camera. She shook her head smiling. He only had good things to say of course. It reminded me of the olden days when people would hover by the road or boat jetty to disrupt a possible marriage alliance by speaking ill of the prospective bride or groom. 

His claims which he would not say in front of the camera:

She is a horrible woman who drove her husband off.

She is making a lot of money.

She only uses only half of the wood required to burn the bodies. The bodies don’t burn properly and hence the horrible smell. 

What we saw and learned:

She is not given a salary from the corporation or any retirement benefits. 

She makes 1, 500 rupees for each body which turns up.

Out of which, 400 rupees goes to the corporation. It used to be 500 but she told them she was having difficulty running the place and they benevolently reduced 100 rupees. 

The rest of the money goes to buying wood (a lot is needed) and managing the building and land. 

What little is left over, she takes. 

She once requested the corporation to increase the rate for a body, but they dismissed it saying, “We cannot do that. This is a social service.” 

For religious and cultural reasons, families of the deceased are supposed to give dakshina to the keeper. However, the families who come give very little because they think she is getting paid heavily for this job.

The wiring of the place is ancient. There are a lot of loose connections and circuits tend to burst. Electricians are often afraid to come into the Smasana and she has to beg them. Majority of the time there is no light because of this. The light bulbs are difficult to replace because they are a different variety and can only be bought from somewhere in the city. They are also very expensive. She usually pays for it herself since the money does not add up. 

A body takes around 6 hours to burn and longer if the body has been induced with medicine for a long time. She will not take a body in the evening because of this. There is a lack of light because of the electrical problems, not to mention, she would be waiting alone. Yet people in the corporation who turn a deaf ear to her complaints and suggestions call her nonstop when there is a family important to them. They appease her saying, “do this and we’ll fix the wiring tomorrow itself.” She tells us that tomorrow has turned into three months now. 

For the past few years, when this job is up for grabs, no one raises their hand. No one wants to do it. 

Isn’t it sad that the only person who is willing to do the job is not given the support or appreciation she deserves?