Our Self-Written Obituaries – Deepshi Chowdhury, Noida
The 213rd death.
[Text and photo sent by Deepshi Chowdhury]
There she lay on her bed, her face serene.
Deepshi Chowdhury was found dead in her apartment. Lying on the bed, she was as still as a Paulo Coelho beside her.
She died in the most ordinary fashion in contrast to the kind of death she fantasized. Fortunately, a Faiz’s ghazal playing in the stereo beside her infused a bit of romantic element to the circumstances.
Ms Chowdhury’s friends recall how she wished for absurd things like marrying Urdu, the language of her beloved poets. Her two bosom friends allege her of suffocating them with her love, for guffawing at her own self-deprecating jokes, and catching feelings for people more frequently than she wrote poems. (She wrote these verses in momentary spasms of anger and grief, almost as if to unload her bursting emotions and letting them soak in her words.)
Her parents sifting through her diaries weep at the fact that their daughter’s jottings had a striking similarity to suicide notes. They wince at how she bluffed her inner turmoil with a boisterous laugh, welcoming every person in her life though she was running out of space for herself.
Biryani is to be served in her memorial meeting, just as she desired.
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.