Our Self-Written Obituaries – Samrta Marks, Mussoorie
The 162nd death.
[Text by Samrta Marks, photos by Samarth Marks]
It amazed me how passionately and aggressively she believed in,
Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
And perhaps Keats wouldn’t be appalled if he got to know that Samrta Marks stole the very words from his epitaph for her own changing only a word. “Here lies the one whose name was writ in the wind.”
When I last met her Ms Marks spoke about the hills and told me in vague words that her bond with the hills, like for many others, was a special one–pensive and meditative, fit for nothing but serene staring.
It has been five years hence and I am sure her soul has trotted like a merry child into those deep isolated hills that mesmerized and haunted her existence. Her last piece of art where she drew the sun in place of the pulmonary artery and a river in place of the ventricle wasn’t a surprise for I know her soul is lying in the soft green grass with her feet in the mossy creeks on the other side of those hills she always spoke about.
In her mind, the true beholders of knowledge were the ascetics and witches who crouched in caves and brewed herbs in the woods.
I truly hope she is resting with the souls of those ancient witches she wanted to meet in her lifetime watching the tangerine sunsets like she did every day.
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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How did you get the Weird Sisters to sit still for Picture No.1?