The 94th death.

[Text by Anam Gill; photo by Hassan Ebraheem]

Anam Gill, a Pakistani journalist died at the age of — leaving behind nothing but her many writings, amateur attempts at playing peace songs on a ukulele, a collection of random books and her sloppy paintings she used to paint just to vent.

Throughout her life she had pampered the complexities of life knowingly and unknowingly. For her to make bad attempts at a lasting relationship was more trivial than other issues she used to write about. At least you could come up with solutions for the later. She left the world with many of her questions unanswered.

Loving madly and exploring the diversity the world had to offer was the reason she lived these many years. She was compassionate and enthusiastic about life. She didn’t get any recognition for any of her contributions in the form of writings, music, paintings and a big heart that was open to people and ever ready to love anyone who was looking for comfort. She was not good at pretension, something the world needs to spin around.

Today this random traveler opened her eyes in another realm, the greatest mysteries of all. In her last note she wrote that finding answers in this world is like chasing after the wind.

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.