Our Self-Written Obituaries – Sreeparna Chaudhury, Calcutta
The 143rd death.
[Text by Sreeparna Chaudhury; photo by Shamindra Chaudhuri]
Sreeparna Chaudhury, a nobody, a ghost of her own being, died last night by choking on an ice cream of her least favorite flavor.
She perhaps always knew that her death would be as banal as her life was.
She wanted to live so many lives and do so many things all in a single lifetime that she ended up doing nothing worth mentioning.
Ms Chaudhury never liked her name showing up in red on the computer screen but guess the grump got used to it like everything else in her ordinary existence.
Nobody had seen her going out of her home in years. She had once been a woman of beauty and elegance as the moth-eaten photographs hanging all too flimsily on the decaying walls suggested.
There was no phone or electronic no-brainers to be found inside. She died in such silence as if silence had a sound.
An old diary of what seemed to be a manuscript of sorts of her spasmodic writings over the years had a note scribbled on it, “To be sent to brother living in Worchestershire.”
Her death was written about in the next day’s local newspaper and her name was not in red.
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.