Our Self-Written Obituaries – Tanishka Goel, East of Kailash
The 204th death.
[Text and photos sent by Tanishka Goel]
Ting. Ting. The Metro arrived on platform 2 of South Delhi’s Okhla NSIC station. Tanishka Goel ran in her favourite blue kurti, a book in her hand, to get into a coach. Instead of boarding the train, however, she became one of those breathless commuters on whose crestfallen face the doors of the Metro routinely shut, almost like a public insult.
Ms Goel used to smile every morning when she saw someone caught in such a situation, while she herself would be sitting inside the Metro, snug in her book or earphones. Today, she was that person and she wondered if someone inside the train smiled at her the same way.
After eight whole minutes, when she felt the platform-floor shake again, she looked up to see the next train pulling into the station. For the 4866th time, Ms Goel wondered what would happen if her firm feet lose their balance and she falls on the rail tracks. Would she be rescued in time?
If not, would she be remembered?
As the Metro came closer, she made eye contact with the train driver for a split second and let go of her balance. Her phone fell with a thud on the platform. Abhi na jao was playing on it.
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.