Can it be in ultra-fast mode, St. Peter?
Conversations with taxi drivers aren't just about politics and the weather. This one, which took place on All Souls' Day, also yielded ramblings about the fate of the body and soul after death.
A deadly breath spreads over Porto Alegre, announcing the early start of summer. Today, like every Saturday morning, my friends and I went to see a movie at the Clube de Cinema. On the way out, with our minds still wondering about the story of the movie, we followed a path driven purely by inertia, crossed the Book Fair and ended up making a forced detour towards the taxi queue. It was impossible to keep walking in this heat! The best thing would be to go straight home, and from there to the shower.
The choice of movie shown at the Cinema Club couldn't have been more perfect for today. “Sidonie au Japon” is a film about the grieving process of a French writer who travels to Japan in order to alleviate the suffering caused by her recent widowhood and the resulting crisis in her literary production. There she sees the ghost of her husband for the first time, who helps her overcome her grief and find a new love.
After informing the driver of my destination and scaring away the ghosts that were struggling by my side, I finally found the strength to talk to the taxi driver thanks to the chilly air conditioning:
- Have you taken many passengers to the cemetery today?
- None, he said, looking at me through the mirror.
- I think this holiday will end up being extinct. No one wants to be buried anymore. The fashion now is to be cremated,” I replied as I admired the horde of smiling people parading through the streets.
- But that's very expensive! I said to my wife: “How can I die knowing that I'm going to leave you with a R$10,000 bill to pay? What kind of love would that be? I decided to donate my body.
- Organ donation, I corrected him.
- No. Body donation. I donated it to the Faculty of Medicine. That way she'll only spend R$29, which is the price of the Death Certificate.
Not knowing what comment to make, I imagined my naked body lying on a stainless steel table being autopsied by a group of young medical students. No, definitely not. But who cares what happens to the body, right? The important thing is to know whether my ghost will have a reason to wander this world of God, or whether it will be a vapt-vupt passage. Can I choose, St. Peter?
Voltar