The 119th death.
[Text and photo by Simran Brar; the picture selfie shows the author with her grandmother]
The hazardous cocktail of unabashed laughter, untiring idiocy and boundless adventure took Simran Brar’s life one unremarkable April morning. She had been warned of the risks of mixing these intoxicants, but she didn’t care. She died, as she had lived-without any regrets.
Ms Brar, you see, had been an obedient, conscientious and sensitive child. She had tried to do everything right, but somehow it had never felt enough. It took her decades to realise that she was indeed awesome, and that her helpless, impressionable, child-brain had just gotten wired wrong.
The momentous day that this realization struck Ms Brar, she decided she didn’t have a second to lose. She vowed to defy the laws of nature and age in reverse.
She began to laugh without hesitation, befriend without expectation and imagine without reservation. She unleashed herself upon the world.
She got younger as she aged.
The medical community studied her, but found nothing of note except an insatiable heart and an unbreakable spirit.
Ms Brar’s life will be immortalized in a movie. She always thought that she bore an uncanny resemblance to Kate Winslet. Her dying wish was that Michael Fassbender play her boyfriend.
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 firstname.lastname@example.org.