Taking a bath after attending a funeral is necessary to ward off evil

Scene: Outside a tea stall in Madurai, post-funeral, sipping chai.

Ravi (flicking dust off his kurta):
“Dai Arun, I’m heading straight home for a full-body scrub. Soap, turmeric, the works. You better do the same. Don’t bring any bad energy to your house!”

Arun (grinning, sipping tea):
“Bad energy? What are we, Wi-Fi routers? I came to pay respects, not pick up ghosts, da.”

Ravi (serious):
“Don’t joke, machan. You have to bathe after a funeral. It’s tradition. It cleanses the negativity we carry back from the cremation ground. That place is full of unsettled spirits.”

Arun:
“And you think Lifebuoy will send them running? ‘Bhoot Detected – Initiating Lather Protocol’?”

Ravi (ignoring the joke):
“It’s not just soap. It’s about energy. My grandmother used to say, when someone dies, their spirit lingers, confused. It clings to people. A bath washes it off.”

Arun:
“Okay, fair. But listen. The reason this ritual may have started was hygiene. You know how cremation grounds used to be? Open pyres, smoke, ash, germs. Bathing after that made sense. It’s practical. Not supernatural.”

Ravi:
“Supernatural or not, da, I’ve felt it. Once I skipped the bath after attending an uncle’s funeral. That night, I had chills. I kept hearing anklets in the corridor. And the power went off only in my room!”

Arun (laughing):
“You forgot to pay the EB bill, probably. Or maybe your mind was playing tricks. You expected something spooky, so your brain delivered.”

Ravi:
“Easy for you to say. You believe in Google more than God.”

Arun:
“No da, I believe in evidence. If bathing truly ‘removes spirits’, where’s the data? Any double-blind ghost removal trials? ‘Subject A bathed, ghost-free. Subject B didn’t – possessed.’”

Ravi (chuckling despite himself):
“You science guys ruin all the mystery. Next you’ll say horoscopes are just cosmic fan fiction.”

Arun:
“That’s… actually accurate.”

Ravi (mock offended):
“Ey! Don’t insult everything I grew up with. These traditions give us structure. Comfort. Who cares if there’s no physics paper on it?”

Arun (gently):
“I get that. Rituals can be meaningful. But it’s dangerous when we follow them blindly. Like stopping someone from entering the house after a funeral until they bathe—what if it’s raining, and there’s no water supply?”

Ravi:
“Then they sit outside with the ghost, I guess.”

Arun:
“Exactly! Isn’t that a bit extreme? Can’t we update old customs with new understanding?”

Ravi:
“Maybe. But I’ll still bathe, da. Just in case. Why risk it?”

Arun (grinning):
“Fine. You bathe. I’ll boil some water for you. Add tulsi and neem too—make it a full-on ghost-detox spa.”

Ravi:
“You’re mocking, but I appreciate it. At least you don’t force me to change.”

Arun (smiling):
“Never, machan. But maybe one day, you’ll bathe just to remove dust, not demons.”

Ravi:
“Dust, demons, dandruff—same process, no?”

[Both burst out laughing, sipping the last of their tea.]