About Our Servant’s Death

(In a recent post, I described the aftermath of the death of our first servant in Bombay.  I mentioned a letter my wife sent to family with more details about what happened the actual day we discovered the body.  Here is a portion of that letter.)

Dear Family                                                                                                                                                                       22 March 98

Well, Gary wanted to bring the kids to India so they could experience the real world, and experiencing it they are, maybe even more so than Gary anticipated.  Along with all the poverty, beggars, and over-population, now the kids have experienced death.  You see, our cook died yesterday.

We knew he had had some health problems.  The guy before us (who had hired him) talked about taking care of hospital bills, etc.  The cook, Mutayah, had malaria, and now we find out, heart problems.  He was probably around 55 years old.  Yesterday morning, Saturday, he didn’t show up at 9:00, as usual, to prepare breakfast.  By 10:30 we were concerned and had the cook upstairs go and check on him.  He got no answer so had the guard unlock the door and they found Mutayah in his bed, dead.  At least it appeared he had not suffered.What an experience!  Gary had to deal with notifying family members and the police, who got the coroner, and then had to hang around to make sure things happened as they should: notify authorities, notify next of kin, seal the room, inventory possessions, turn everything over to next of kin.  Anyway, it has all been rather depressing and upsetting.  Mutayah had worked for us for almost a month and we were all beginning to feel very comfortable.  He baked cookies for the kids regularly, and was good at making a variety of meals for us including Chinese, American, British, and Indian.  We’ll miss him.  We’ll be helping his family with funeral expenses (which are not expensive) and hopefully a bit more.  He had five children, the three oldest married, but the youngest still a teenager.  Do Indians have life insurance?  Retirement plans?  We are not sure, but will be learning.

About literarylee

I sling words for a living. Always have, always will. Some have been interesting and fun; most not. These days, I write the fun words early in the morning before the adults are up and make me eat my Cream of Wheat.
This entry was posted in Bombay Letters and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply