Recently, I attended a post-funeral ritual in Vizag as per Hindu tradition. On the 11th day after a soul’s departure, it is customary to offer lunch to family and relatives, honoring the departed. But the day turned out to be more than just a ritual. It turned into a silent lesson in humanity.
As we began to serve lunch, I noticed something that quietly melted my heart. Many unknown people—people we hadn’t invited—began to arrive. Some acted like relatives and quietly joined the meal. Some were drunk, and others tried to come back in line again and again, even if it meant creating a scene. At first, we tried to manage everything peacefully. We didn’t want to say “no” to anyone. But deep inside, we were worried—what if the actual relatives don’t get food because of this?
At one point, we had to stop those coming in for second or third servings. It wasn’t out of anger—it was fear that the food might fall short for those it was meant for.
But what struck me hardest was this:
Some people were willing to face rejection, shame, and discomfort, just for a meal.
That’s when I realized: for many of us, a meal is routine. But for some, it’s a battle. It's not just food—it’s dignity, survival, and a chance to feel human for a moment.
And here’s the contrast that stings the soul:
As we began to serve lunch, I noticed something that quietly melted my heart. Many unknown people—people we hadn’t invited—began to arrive. Some acted like relatives and quietly joined the meal. Some were drunk, and others tried to come back in line again and again, even if it meant creating a scene. At first, we tried to manage everything peacefully. We didn’t want to say “no” to anyone. But deep inside, we were worried—what if the actual relatives don’t get food because of this?
At one point, we had to stop those coming in for second or third servings. It wasn’t out of anger—it was fear that the food might fall short for those it was meant for.
But what struck me hardest was this:
Some people were willing to face rejection, shame, and discomfort, just for a meal.
That’s when I realized: for many of us, a meal is routine. But for some, it’s a battle. It's not just food—it’s dignity, survival, and a chance to feel human for a moment.
And here’s the contrast that stings the soul:
- Some people who have everything find reasons to feel unhappy.
- Others, who have nothing, still show up with silent hope—for just one plate of food.
Which Side Should we Look At?
May be both sides!
May be both sides!
- Look at the poor not with pity, but with awareness. Understand how close survival is for them. A single meal matters. Their actions are not always out of disrespect, but desperation.
- Look at ourselves with reflection. We have enough. Sometimes more than enough. Yet, we still chase things that don’t feed our soul. That meal showed you the contrast between real hunger and imagined emptiness.
What This Teaches Us
Kindness is priceless—but it also needs balance. We tried to serve with love, yet manage the needs of others. That’s not wrong. That’s responsible compassion.
Human dignity is fragile. No one wants to beg. But hunger can make a person lose the fear of shame.
Gratitude changes perspective. One moment like this can shift the way we see abundance and suffering.
This wasn’t just about a lunch. It was a mirror held up to society. It showed how much we have, how little some survive on, and how even in rituals of grief, life keeps teaching us to feel more, give more, and judge less.