The 104th death.
[Text and photo by Anu Chopra]
Anu Chopra died of a major heart attack at her poker table in Ahmadabad, Gujarat.
The evening had started brilliantly. Ms Chopra was winning one round after another. Eventually, she had four of a kind in cards and then she just couldn’t withstand the excitement and slumped on the chair.
The first thought that crossed the mind of her surprised friend, sitting next to her, was—“Anu still doesn’t dye her hair! The roots are so black. Eek, her paunch… like a pregnant whale!” But the friend quickly wiped away those thoughts and tried to look somber.
Ms Chopra was 57. She leaves behind her husband and two daughters. Besides being a passionate poker player, she loved conversation, gossip and red wine. She daily read 50 websites and blogs–from the frivolous to the more frivolous.
Her other passion was lying down on her bed and watching serials on the Zindagi (TV) channel or jotting down her bitter or intense or humorous or sad or self-pitying thoughts on her iPad. But she always ran out of ideas right after writing the first line. This meant she had about 30 one-line thoughts on her tablet, which she never completed.
Ms Chopra was also into walks and yoga but every six months she mysteriously put on at least two kilograms of weight. (It could be because she was capable of eating an entire cheese cake alone while reading an Agatha Christie for the 100th time or single-handedly demolishing a kilogram of badam barfi within a few hours. But this was a well kept secret that died with her.)
Ms Chopra leaves no legacy for her children. The girls cannot tell anyone the typical motherly clichés such as, “My mom was a fantastic cook”, or, “This is how mom told us to look after our silks and pashminas.”
Truth to be told, Ms Chopra was an indifferent cook and housekeeper. However, she has left behind a lot of gold for her daughters. She never believed in diamonds. In that, she was like her parents who were Partition refugees from Pakistan and who thought that diamonds had no resale value.
Ms Chopra wanted her condolence ceremony, Besna, to be held in a coffee shop because she was doubtful about having a good attendance. At least, in the crowded café, her frenemies would never know how many people finally came to pay her respects.
Ms Chopra wants to come back as a ghost to know what her friends talk behind her back and if her husband is able to host poker parties without her.
Our Self-Written Obituaries invites people to write their obituary in 200 words. The idea is to share with the world how you will like to be remembered after you are gone. (May you live a long life, of course!) Please mail me your self-obit at email@example.com.