Classic Odia stories: No task is sordid enough for a cremator as long as he gets the right price

Jagu Tiadi – an opium addict, lusty drummer and undisputed leader of the Brahmin kirtan singers of Podabasant village – had made a name for himself as a cremator. When it came to burning a body, there was no one, even in the neighbouring villages, who could rival him.

Corpses, you see, can cause plenty of headaches: some slowpokes refuse to catch fire; others, as sly in death as in life, suddenly thrust out a stiff hand or leg, upsetting the carefully arranged pyre; some burst open at the seams at the slightest heat and their abundant body fluids douse the fire. Only a few go without a fuss. Faced with such difficulties, pallbearers would look to Jagu for help and advice. Fighting off sleep and an opium-induced languor, he would struggle to his feet, take out a smoking log and land a couple of hefty blows on the unyielding corpse. “Go quickly, or I’ll hand you a second death,” he would curse, as he saw to it that the skull was smashed to smithereens, the legs broken into splinters, the stomach deflated like a pricked balloon and the body caught fire and turned to ashes.

Until it was all over, Jagu would lumber...

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