Our Self-Written Obituaries – Varun Dhingra, Delhi
The 258th death.
[By Varun Dhingra]
Varun Dhingra, the well-unknown center of his make-believe universe, passed away, in his favorite writer’s words, at the viable-diable age of 33, in his ramshackle room on the roof at his parents’ house in West Delhi. He died alone and semi-conscious, as he had lived, in the company of his many books and few possessions.
Notable among these was an antique wooden box containing a tola of hasheesh and a pouch of American Spirit tobacco, which had earned him the infamous (yet appropriate) moniker of “Charsi”.
The dusty, smoke-filled room was full of old travel photographs and older books, a few wall clocks none of which had worked for the last 1.5 decades (18 till I die being his chosen anthem) and a variety of notebooks, each inch of each scribbled with indecipherable garbage written in his looping, unsteady hand, that even he failed to make sense of after a gap of more than 10 minutes post writing.
He died of mysterious causes, bringing to an abrupt end, a life many would describe as an enigma wrapped inside a puzzle, a life few would remember if not for this very self-conscious, self-written obituary published on an eccentric journalist’s Instagram page.
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, with a photo of you or your world, at firstname.lastname@example.org.