Tag Archives: death

Dining with Dead People and Carryout Lesson

Damas_Muslim_cemetery_1839 Wikimedia Commons Public DomainDead people don’t make me uncomfortable. Usually. Would you eat lunch in a restaurant alongside dead people?

That might be awkward. Well, maybe not if it was someone you knew, but it isn’t.

Is a “cemetery restaurant” insensitive, icky, ingenious? I believe it may be greater than any of that.

I was speechless when I came across a headline about New Lucky Restaurant in Ahmadabad, India.

After reading the story, though, I’m more than OK with it now. Hey, some see clouds while others “unearth” a silver lining.

Two-Fold Problem

In the photos accompanying the Mirror News article, it’s obvious that Ahmadabad’s congested and markedly lacks available space.

Clearly, it looks impossible to fit a breath between, around, or behind the buildings surrounding the small restaurant.

It’s even towered over from above by an apartment complex. And it’s a cemetery.

Seeing the Bigger Picture

As a business woman I’d pass on that piece of real estate property just because it’s a cemetery. I would never consider disturbing the resting place of the dead.

The minor size of the property would, of course, be a turn-off anyway, regardless of the burial ground.

However, I live on six acres in the woods. For my business I rent an office with two floors. Behind my building there’s a magnificent field over an acre-and-a-half wide. It even has a pond.

A beautiful river, lined with enormous oak and pine trees, runs along the outer edge of the field. Every day, from my office windows, I get to watch various wildlife at play.

Was it putting a restaurant on that little spec of land or the idea that it’s a cemetery that struck me as outrageous? I don’t think I appreciate often enough or express gratitude for how lucky I am to enjoy the freedom of wide open spaces.

Fortunately, the New Lucky Restaurant owner, Krishan Kutti, didn’t view the problem from my embarrassing closed-minded perspective of everything being bigger than is necessary.

Accepting Circumstance

Instead, Mr. Kutti embraced the existing state of affairs with a big hug and incorporated 12 graves from the Muslim cemetery into the restaurant. He didn’t like the idea of moving the longstanding graves.

Sadly, according to the news article, no one is certain who the remains are. Some believe they are “… followers of a 16th-Century Sufi saint …”

It doesn’t matter. Whoever they are, they have a home now and they’re well looked after.

Each day, staff members at New Lucky Restaurant place fresh flowers on the graves and respectfully cover them with colorful cloths.

How’s Business?

Seemingly, the restaurant is thriving. I’m not sure how many people are curiosity seekers and how many are regular customers.

That doesn’t matter, either. Krishan Kutti, stepped out on a limb and did something remarkable.

In this case, stepping out on a limb isn’t a figure of speech; there’s a tree growing through the restaurant, too.

If you believe in the power of paying it forward, this man may not expect it, but he will receive many blessings for his good deed.


MirrorNews.co.uk – “Pictured: Bizarre cemetery restaurant where diners sit with DEAD people,” by Mikey Smith – March 23, 2014

Photo Credit: Damas_Muslim_cemetery_1839 Wikimedia Commons Public Domain – http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Commons:Copyright_tags#United_States

Postcards Credit: MorgueFile by Cohdra

Heaven-Sent Message in a Postcard from Nova Scotia

Postcards Credit: MorgueFile by CohdraNo one sends postcards anymore. That’s a shame. A postcard may prove someday to be a humble but emotional link to a loved one.

This may come long after they’ve left their earthly existence.

Did you know there’s a National Postcard Week? This year it’s May 4–10.

Recently, I received a message from heaven. It came via a tattered postcard from Nova Scotia. The heaven-sent note is obviously from my mother. She passed over eight years ago.

You see, it’s an effective way for her to say “hello” because Nova Scotia and my mom were as one. Truthfully, she had a lifelong sizzling love affair with Nova Scotia.

Let me explain:

Crying and Closet Demolition

My husband, and I, are renovating one part of our old home. My mom brought me home from the hospital to this house. I grew up here then left for years.

Eventually, I returned to raise my daughters in the same house. Life would whisk me away again, but I’ve been back in this home for six years now.

Anyway, we tore down a huge closet in a room which was at one time my mother’s bedroom.

Renovating my family home triggered a cauldron of schmaltziness to bubble. I believe it was the result of hundreds of distinct and just as many hazy, memories.

When the old closet came down I experienced a weird emotional reaction of heavy sadness. It pitched me into an uncontrollable outburst of weeping. Every day I still miss my mother.

Enter the Message from Heaven

I began sorting all the gobbledygook we removed from the closet. Some of the boxes, baskets and trash bags belonged to my mother. Some were mine.

OK, time to distract myself from mushiness. Armed with Kleenex, I thought it best to start by digging in to a couple of my boxes instead of moms.

In the first box I open, on top of all the other stuff, there it sits: a postcard my mother sent me 19 years ago from Cape Breton, Nova Scotia. I barely remembered it.

Schooner Adventure Lives On

On a beautiful June day, she wrote me a note to say one of her dreams came true: She went out on the Schooner Amoeba.

In her stunning handwriting, she squeezed in all the details she could possibly fit on the little postcard. She covered every available inch with her giddy excitement.

I have no doubt that my mother reached out to put her arms around me at that moment.

Physically, my mother isn’t here with me. However, I’ve now received immeasurable comfort to feel her spirit still radiating within an old postcard from Nova Scotia.



Amoeba Sailing Tours – Roy’s Dream

Image Credit: MorgueFile by Cohdra