It’s hard to tell what was most painful for the actor Noor Malabika Das She was found dead in her Lokhandwala flat a fortnight ago. Her untimely death at the age of 31, when she hanged herself in her bedroom and was recovered two days later, or the fact that no one from her family was present to perform her last rites. Funeral and laid him down to rest.
“I got a call from a police officer saying there was a decomposed body lying in the mortuary and they needed help in disposing it as the family, who live in Assam, cannot afford to come to Mumbai,” says Iqbal Mamdani, founder of . Mamdani Health and Education Trust NGOWho made sure he got a proper farewell.
Noor’s story is not unique, however. In a city that never sleeps, some people are often lonely and forgotten, even after death.
His final moments are a reminder of some of the good people who dedicated themselves to ensuring that those who died alone or unclaimed received a dignified farewell, even at their own expense, even though they knew nothing about them until that moment.
Mamdani, a former journalist, took up the job during the pandemic in 2020, when concerns arose about the management of Covid-19 deaths. “There was growing anger among people because Muslims who died of coronavirus were being cremated instead of buried,” he said. Mamdani, along with a few helpers, began to ensure proper burials and soon saw many people unclaimed dead body Similar care is needed in hospitals too. “Hospital officials told us that people were hesitant to accept the bodies for fear of infection.”
After getting permission and assurances from the hospital and the police to avoid communal disputes, he expanded his efforts and formed a 200-member team working from Churchgate to Palghar, CST to Kalyan. However, after the pandemic, the need remained. “The police often dealt with unclaimed bodies, and the additional director general of police Vishwas Nangre Patil It encouraged us to continue this work.”
Today, Mamdani’s team of 12 men, aged between 25 and 50 and from different religions, cremates at least a hundred bodies every month. “We perform all the rites and rituals according to their faith free of cost,” says Mamdani, who, in collaboration with Mumbai police and railway officials, has cremated over 6,000 unclaimed bodies in the past four years.
Parallelly, 72-year-old Cooperative Legal Act Advisor Light Gidwani has been involved in helping cremate unclaimed bodies for the past five decades, from assisting the Caribbean police while living in Barbados to continuing this work in Mumbai since the 1980s. “I was at a puncture shop when a little boy came in, asking for old tyres for his father’s funeral because they couldn’t afford wood. That was the moment I vowed – no one should die without a proper body. Cremation,
In 2008, Gidwani approached the BMC with a proposal to collect wood from fallen trees and distribute it to the city’s crematoriums, which they eventually accepted. “Today, the BMC provides free wood to 86 crematoriums for at least 100 cremations. And later, electric and biogas cremations were also made free,” says Gidwani. He works alone with four ambulances and handles three to twenty unclaimed bodies every month, of people who die alone, often without any medical insurance or family support.
While Mamdani has dealt with cases of beggars, train accident victims, newborns abandoned by mothers, senior citizens separated from their children living far away and even a 12-year-old runaway, the list of unclaimed bodies Gidwani has helped cremate ranges from the rich and famous – “like Bollywood hairstylist Sheela Kapoor, who was found in her Versova apartment two days after her death, and after six months of tracing her relatives and investigating, the DCP called me to perform her last rites” – as well as ragpickers, beggars, watchmen and rickshaw pullers whose families live in other states.
Mamdani says he often finds migrant workers from states like UP, Bihar, Assam and Kolkata working as daily wage labourers in Mumbai. “Sometimes their families know they are in Mumbai, but have no idea about their lives here. After their death, their acquaintances in the city often cannot contact their families. And even if the police trace the family, they usually do not have the means to go to Mumbai,” Mamdani explains.
Establishing the faith of the deceased can be difficult. For example, Noor Malbika’s name became a puzzle. “She could be Hindu or Muslim,” Mamdani said. After speaking to her family in Assam over the phone and confirming that she was Hindu, they cremated her according to customs.
“For male Muslims, it is easier because of the practice of circumcision. For Hindus or Christians, we look for tattoos, markings like ‘Om’ or ‘Ram’, or religious lockets like crosses. Doctors document these during post-mortem, which helps us decide the appropriate rites,” says Mamdani.
“Once we identified a rickshaw driver who had died in his vehicle from his Aadhaar card linked to a Kerala address. Another time, a photocopy of a cheque in his pocket helped us identify a man who had hanged himself in a neighbourhood park,” says Gidwani.
Funding remains a challenge. “Right now, we are 30 friends funding this initiative, but to continue it we are looking at CSR or crowdfunding as there are a lot of expenses involved – salaries, running three ambulances and materials needed for the rituals,” says Mamdani.
One might think the task would be daunting, but both men find it satisfying. “No one should leave this world without a dignified farewell,” says Mamdani. Gidwani’s motivation is simple. “My aim is not to become a hero, but to help in such a time of misfortune.”
“I got a call from a police officer saying there was a decomposed body lying in the mortuary and they needed help in disposing it as the family, who live in Assam, cannot afford to come to Mumbai,” says Iqbal Mamdani, founder of . Mamdani Health and Education Trust NGOWho made sure he got a proper farewell.
Noor’s story is not unique, however. In a city that never sleeps, some people are often lonely and forgotten, even after death.
His final moments are a reminder of some of the good people who dedicated themselves to ensuring that those who died alone or unclaimed received a dignified farewell, even at their own expense, even though they knew nothing about them until that moment.
Mamdani, a former journalist, took up the job during the pandemic in 2020, when concerns arose about the management of Covid-19 deaths. “There was growing anger among people because Muslims who died of coronavirus were being cremated instead of buried,” he said. Mamdani, along with a few helpers, began to ensure proper burials and soon saw many people unclaimed dead body Similar care is needed in hospitals too. “Hospital officials told us that people were hesitant to accept the bodies for fear of infection.”
After getting permission and assurances from the hospital and the police to avoid communal disputes, he expanded his efforts and formed a 200-member team working from Churchgate to Palghar, CST to Kalyan. However, after the pandemic, the need remained. “The police often dealt with unclaimed bodies, and the additional director general of police Vishwas Nangre Patil It encouraged us to continue this work.”
Today, Mamdani’s team of 12 men, aged between 25 and 50 and from different religions, cremates at least a hundred bodies every month. “We perform all the rites and rituals according to their faith free of cost,” says Mamdani, who, in collaboration with Mumbai police and railway officials, has cremated over 6,000 unclaimed bodies in the past four years.
Parallelly, 72-year-old Cooperative Legal Act Advisor Light Gidwani has been involved in helping cremate unclaimed bodies for the past five decades, from assisting the Caribbean police while living in Barbados to continuing this work in Mumbai since the 1980s. “I was at a puncture shop when a little boy came in, asking for old tyres for his father’s funeral because they couldn’t afford wood. That was the moment I vowed – no one should die without a proper body. Cremation,
In 2008, Gidwani approached the BMC with a proposal to collect wood from fallen trees and distribute it to the city’s crematoriums, which they eventually accepted. “Today, the BMC provides free wood to 86 crematoriums for at least 100 cremations. And later, electric and biogas cremations were also made free,” says Gidwani. He works alone with four ambulances and handles three to twenty unclaimed bodies every month, of people who die alone, often without any medical insurance or family support.
While Mamdani has dealt with cases of beggars, train accident victims, newborns abandoned by mothers, senior citizens separated from their children living far away and even a 12-year-old runaway, the list of unclaimed bodies Gidwani has helped cremate ranges from the rich and famous – “like Bollywood hairstylist Sheela Kapoor, who was found in her Versova apartment two days after her death, and after six months of tracing her relatives and investigating, the DCP called me to perform her last rites” – as well as ragpickers, beggars, watchmen and rickshaw pullers whose families live in other states.
Mamdani says he often finds migrant workers from states like UP, Bihar, Assam and Kolkata working as daily wage labourers in Mumbai. “Sometimes their families know they are in Mumbai, but have no idea about their lives here. After their death, their acquaintances in the city often cannot contact their families. And even if the police trace the family, they usually do not have the means to go to Mumbai,” Mamdani explains.
Establishing the faith of the deceased can be difficult. For example, Noor Malbika’s name became a puzzle. “She could be Hindu or Muslim,” Mamdani said. After speaking to her family in Assam over the phone and confirming that she was Hindu, they cremated her according to customs.
“For male Muslims, it is easier because of the practice of circumcision. For Hindus or Christians, we look for tattoos, markings like ‘Om’ or ‘Ram’, or religious lockets like crosses. Doctors document these during post-mortem, which helps us decide the appropriate rites,” says Mamdani.
“Once we identified a rickshaw driver who had died in his vehicle from his Aadhaar card linked to a Kerala address. Another time, a photocopy of a cheque in his pocket helped us identify a man who had hanged himself in a neighbourhood park,” says Gidwani.
Funding remains a challenge. “Right now, we are 30 friends funding this initiative, but to continue it we are looking at CSR or crowdfunding as there are a lot of expenses involved – salaries, running three ambulances and materials needed for the rituals,” says Mamdani.
One might think the task would be daunting, but both men find it satisfying. “No one should leave this world without a dignified farewell,” says Mamdani. Gidwani’s motivation is simple. “My aim is not to become a hero, but to help in such a time of misfortune.”
