At all times, all world religions and traditions have taught that the deceased should be adequately carried to the afterlife. It doesn't matter how - the main thing is to show respect for the dead on the last day of his stay under the sun.
If you believe the old legends and teachings, then if you do not bury the deceased with dignity, his soul will not be able to find peace in the afterlife. In the worst cases, the ghost of the deceased will take revenge on the one who prevented him from taking him to another world. Is it so? Of course, all this, speculation and myths, but sometimes things happen in our world that just do not fit in the head.
Deceased. Oleg's eyewitness account
Things went wrong that Monday morning. I opened my eyes at nine in the morning and was horrified to realize that I was late for an important meeting with a major supplier. For disrupting the meeting and signing the contract, the boss would throw me out of work with a whistle. And considering the fact that I have been working in this office for only six months, the chances of being fired increased several times. And thanks to the crisis, I would have to look for a new job, oh, how long.
Immediately, I grabbed my mobile and called our driver. A quarter of an hour later, a shabby Renault Kangoo stood at my entrance. I flew out into the street like a bullet and jumped into the car. There was exactly one hour before the meeting, and it was about fifty kilometers to go there. Anton, our driver, was in a great mood as usual. However, in this situation, I had no desire to hear about shock absorbers and a carburetor for which our boss finally allocated money to resuscitate the "pie".
In the meantime, we drove out of the city, Anton turned on the gas, I leaned back in the seat, closed my eyes and tried to relax, thinking that I would not be late. Our path lay through one village, along a country road it was necessary to drive only 5-7 kilometers. As soon as Anton drove into the village, the car stopped, I opened my eyes and saw the funeral procession going ahead. I was completely perplexed, and Anton, although a man of Soviet hardening, was terribly devout and flatly refused to overtake the procession. About a kilometer remained to the cemetery, I understood that the deal had been thwarted and soon I would have to look for work.
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We got out of the car to smoke. I looked at Anton, and then at the keys that were in the ignition. I realized that this was my last chance. I flew into the car, turned the key and fired. Anton managed to sit down next to me. I began to honk for the procession to let me through, people scattered to the sides and I finally overtook the truck with the coffin.
For the rest of the road, Anton whined, they say, the dead do not like it, but at that moment I was worried about only one thing: how to squeeze the maximum out of this broken-down "Renoshka". I made it to the meeting, I signed the contract, and the boss promised a promotion. That Monday I got drunk both for joy and to forget the hard day.
In the morning I woke up with a severe headache. It wasn't the pain of a hangover, it manifested itself differently. Severe headaches continued on Wednesday and Thursday, and on Friday I was already in the hospital. The diagnosis was disappointing.
Anton also visited me.
“I told you, Oleg, you shouldn't do this. The boss would not have fired you, because the reason is valid, especially since I have a DVR in my car. I stopped by that village yesterday and learned something, the killer was buried on Monday. Seven lives on his conscience, all his life he wandered around the camps. Even though he repented, he is still a murderer, even after death. Do you understand, Oleg?"