The 239th death.

[Text and photo sent by Kashiana Singh]

In leaving as in coming, Kashiana Singh left behind many monochromatic moments. She wrote down a few wishes, on checkered pages (she loved checkered notebooks)in pencilled cursive hand

Carpe Diem

If I could plant myself on my dada’s knee again

I would listen, rapt as he fed me almonds, but

I would feel his fingers, where the knuckles knotted stories

If I could borrow my nani’s lace dupatta again

I would remember to wear it like a pilgrimage

I would celebrate her indiscernible life, hued into its layers

If I could hold my brother close to my chest

I would hold gently, enfolding my arms around his neck

I would not let go, embracing ferociously till my breath became an extension of his

If I could place my daughter into the warmth of my womb

I would tell her to sink her pain into the innards of my being

I would drizzle into myself, into her bones every speckle of sunshine

If I could do nothing when my son pottered around the kitchen

I would let the dishes sit longer, and listen to his voice breaking

I would linger around and watch him becoming a composition

If I could bring a bouquet of time to my parents

I would choose the largest one in the universe

I would infuse the petals with an aroma of whispering thanks

If I could sleep each past night again on a pillow besides you

I would relearn the forms and shapes of your presence

I would arrange my head into your arms, unwilling to awake

If I could harness moments, collect sounds, collapse days

I would swallow them into my gurgling veins as

the waves wash my bodily offerings into an anticipating ocean

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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