Our Self-Written Obituaries – Jaya B, Somewhere in Chennai
The 173rd death.
[Text and photos sent by Jaya B]
Draped in a soft MS Blue Kanjeevaram silk saree with a maroon chequered border, she breathed her last this Margazhi morning after finishing her piping-hot filter coffee.
Jaya B had picked up freshly brewed coffee powder from Mylapore last evening after walking around the temple tank along the Mada streets. Her last meal was hot rasam and curd rice along with mango inji thoku–a simple meal she cherished all her life. Her diamond mookuthi shone like it did on her wedding day.
One of her routine works post moving to Chennai, her beloved city, included drawing cream from milk, churning it every few days into homemade butter, and making aromatic ghee from that butter, and sharing the fruits of her labour with her loved ones.
The music player, which had started its job this morning playing Suprabhatham, continued to play her favorite Carnatic music from the recordings of the previous music seasons, unaware that the music being played will no longer reach her Kemp stone jhumka-adorning ears.
Though Jaya B was a ritual atheist, her friends say it is a most propitious day for death since it is the day of Vaikunta Ekadashi when devas open up the gates to heaven.
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 firstname.lastname@example.org.