The 193rd death.

[Text and photos sent by Shirali Raina]

She overdosed on Netflix.

They found her, snuggled in a corner of her brown sofa, iPad in her lap, playing yet another re-run of Dr. Martin. That explained the smile on her face.

There was a half read book by her feet, Paul Kalanithi’s When Breath Becomes Air. Quite ironic!

Irony must have been Shirali Raina’s middle name, she was full of contradictions.

She loved to cook and collect recipes but her own recipe book remains unfinished. She loved music but could not hold a single tune true to its form. She was stubborn but her mind could change like quicksilver. She had a big circle of friends, for whom she cared unconditionally but none of them were allowed to know her heart. She was drawn to intellect but detoxed with silliness. She wrote in a simple language but remained a Tharoor-vocabulary fan. She enjoyed reading Faiz and wrote middling poetry. She had no great love for jewellery, yet hoarded worthless trinkets. Her favourite pastime was planning vacations.
She was a copybook Aquarian.

She is survived by her collection of souvenir mugs.

P.S : If she had known, she would have worn her favourite pair of sunglasses, before they found 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 mayankaustensoofi@gmail.com.

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