The 265th death.

[By Deepannita Misra]

Here lies Deepannita Misra, 25, who laughed and cried a little, gulped down her tears with two shots of bitter espresso, and passed away peacefully on the morning of 22nd November. It was a terrifically mundane day. It was also her birthday. She looked good though – wearing a dark lipstick with no other signs of makeup, basking in sufficient warmth and sunlight filtering in through her hollow 2bhk rented apartment.

She was hollow inside-out. Those who knew her testified that she had been embezzled out of emotions worth millions of rupees a long time ago. She revealed shortly before her death that she had fallen prey to this grave crime. They didn’t know who the culprit was, neither did she. Or so she said. But every once in a while, a clue presented itself in her secret journals. Sometimes her crazy laughter gave it away. Perhaps once upon a time, she knew that she was about to be robbed. Then she lost her mind.

Well, at least she knew that she was loved. She gravitated towards love and life and laughter. So, she lived for 25 years on borrowed emotions. Never once did her close friends question it. She loved them all so much. She did.

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 mayankaustensoofi@gmail.com.