Our Self-Written Obituaries – Aparna Kumar, Mayur Vihar Phase 1
The 153rd death.
[Text Aparna Kumar, photos by Ariz Ali and DevVrat Kumar]
Aparna Kumar, a budding editor by profession and a hesitant writer at heart, took her last breath unceremoniously in a cab. While traffic wiped the smiles off the faces of people, she continued to smile even when the heart attack consumed her. The irony was insufferable. Then again, it was only appropriate as she had spent most of her days in a cab on Delhi’s smog-ridden roads.
She will perhaps not be remembered by many, and the few who will miss her will cry their hearts out, smoke their lungs out, and eventually move on with their lives. She will be remembered however by the books she read, the stories she wrote and hid, while her solitary bookshelf back home will mourn her death inconsolably.
A small ceremony is to be held at a beautiful beach, under the smiling sun, near the gushing waters. You see, she hated winter more than life itself. Everyone she ever knew, loved, and hated are welcome. But don’t get flowers, she never really understood the relevance of scented petals.
The ashes will be offered to the sea so that she can ride the waves without the fear of drowning. It is to be her final journey.
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.