Long-lasting Happiness

In the seven months of the year to date the brothers had sold ten of their caskets, when years past they would sell that number monthly. Down in Singapore the trade had dropped off almost entirely with the scarcity of plots, and elsewhere the preference at that end of the market had switched to brass-lined conventional caskets.

         Three weeks were needed to produce a new item.

         This morning after breakfast elder brother was found working slowly with a small hand-plane smoothing the curve on the long side of a wing that was taking shape. Their wood here was sourced from up in Pahang toward the Thai border, the mill giving the first rounding of the thick timber in preparation for the subsequent curvature.

         We shared some not very sweet mandarins after lunch, Pakistani the brothers guessed. One worked on a panel one side and the other another opposite. Neat joining fitted the six pieces together; there was no glue or biscuit.

         After the hand planing and some chiseling elder brother brought out the electric drill for a series of holes; the timber had split at the end and long nails were needed to prevent any further splitting.

         Their father had used a hand drill in his time, one that required a to-and-fro horizontal motion with a long rod attached somehow to some other pieces. Elder brother brought out the old rusty iron bit that their father had used. On the wall the long rod hung like a broom handle; how precisely it had functioned he too had forgotten. The other pieces of the assembly could no longer be found.

         In the dim work-room the gold character at the head of a pair of caskets against the wall caught the light. Two other units carrying the same character were given a red colour and plain lacquer respectively. The clients in question had opted for those variations; mostly however glinting gold was the choice of clients.

         The obvious question was the signification. What was a translation of the characters, one at the facing head of the casket and the other the foot? What final words would one choose for a coffin?

         In front the character was hock; behind so.

         It was not especially difficult to render in English: in essence a compound “long/happy” and “life” at rear. Both characters could not fit on the front medallion, younger brother explained. Why the characters needed to be of that large size was not addressed.

         After-life in question, one would have presumed. But it was not the case.

         The near coffin in the gold lettering had been ordered and bought in advance by a local woman when she had been in her early sixties. Now she had reached her nineties.

         The inscription had worked like a charm.

         This was the code: a happy, long life might be one’s fate with good and appropriate preparation; namely, warding off early death by this provision of the ready coffin bearing the inscription.

         The ninety-year-old ancient was one of many who had prospered by this means.

         Thirty and more years the brothers had kept that particular casket in their workroom for the day when it was needed. In former time clients would take their caskets home to store in a back shed.

         The elder brother who because of poverty had never married said for himself he would choose to burn. When he might craft his own casket, the man preferred fire. Younger did not express a preference.

         The characters were chiseled by hand front and back and painted according to the client’s wishes. For the characters there was no variance.

         Happy, long in a compound, life. What more could one wish? (One did not want one without the other.)