For the past 48 years, Chaliha's has been a constant presence at the Nabagraha cremation grounds in Guwahati, advising people on how to conduct last rites, how best to place the body on the pyre, and at times, even conduct the Hindu religion-dictated rituals. "I must have cremated at least 9,500 people, ranging from celebrities to unknown people since 1954," Chaliha says.
It all started one day when his uncle asked Chaliha, then a teenager, to accompany him to the crematorium. Apparently, a poor family had lost its only bread-earner and had no one to turn to in this time of distress. That trip changed Dhruva Chaliha's life. "I realised how important it was to assist people in such difficult times," Chaliha reminisces. With the passage of time, as people came to know of him, Chaliha, a sprightly man even now at 60, started getting calls every time there was need to cremate somebody. "People began to depend upon my knowledge and expertise explicitly in these matters," Chaliha says.
Over the years, people have come to trust him so much that at times, funerals have been delayed until Chaliha arrived at the scene. On other occasions, poor families, who can barely afford the price of firewood leave alone a pandit, have depended upon him to perform the rites. "I learnt the rites and mantras by observing pandits at the crematorium. Gradually, when the need arose, I performed the rites," Chaliha explains.
But what motivated Chaliha to get involved in what is surely an unsavoury job? "Precisely because it's considered an unpleasant job, no one volunteers. So I decided to take it up," he explains. "In our society, the tendency among people is to keep away from community chores like attending funerals. Most would visit a family in which a death has occurred, but would refrain from taking the trouble to be present at the crematorium. Having observed this, I thought it was my duty to fill that gap when there is an utmost need for a shoulder to cry upon," Chaliha says. "I feel content and in a way fulfilled when I'm able to help total strangers get over such a shattering and awkward moment," he observes.
Chaliha does something even more noble. Many a time, he has put unclaimed, unidentified bodies to flame. "Chaliha is approached by municipal and police authorities to perform the last rites of those who have no family or are not identifiable. "And he does it without any hint of reservation," says journalist Pranay Bordoloi, who has watched him from close quarters. And many times, say friends and admirers, Chaliha has spent money from his own pocket to buy firewood and other requirements when families can't afford it. "Every person deserves a proper funeral and if I can be any help at what I consider a family's worst moment, I feel I have lived a life worth living," Chaliha says.
He's grateful to colleagues in his former office for being supportive. "At times, I had to perform up to six funerals a day and remain absent from office, but my co-workers and superiors understood and never complained," Chaliha says with gratitude. "In fact Mr Bhanu (a former municipal commissioner) called me and took my suggestions to improve the facilities at the crematorium," Chaliha says.
He doesn't know how long he can continue to be a constant presence at the crematorium, given that he's pushing 60, but hopes that his younger brother, who's equally regular at the Nabagraha, would carry on the tradition. Chaliha's also hoping that some day, Guwahati will have an electric crematorium. "These days it costs Rs 1,000 worth of firewood to cremate a body which many can't afford," he says. As he sits in his modest house in Guwahati's Silpukhuri area, Chaliha does not need an address or a telephone number for people to come to him. When death comes calling, everyone in Guwahati knows where to contact him.