Our Self-Written Obituaries – Pavel Catalina, Calicut
The 262nd death.
[By Pavel Catalina]
Catalina Pavel, a writer and a lover of Kerala, was found dead at the beginning of Edavappathi, at her place in Malabar, her second home, most probably while watching the sun setting over the Arabian Sea.
On her desk: her diary and Madhavikkutty’s poetry, the remains of her afternoon black coffee and the beginning of a letter written to someone close. The ink stains still fresh. The smell of the coffee still persistent in the room.
In her letter she was actually expressing her wish to be buried under a coconut tree facing the sea. She smiled one day when she found out this wish in one of Kamala Das’ books as well. For her Kamala was, in a way, a Virginia Woolf of Southern India. Or, even better, Sylvia Plath of Malabar.
The first page of her open diary had this quote from a book called French Lover by Taslima Nasreen: “He left. The tranquil woman laughed sweetly and shut her eyes. A dream flew in and perched on her eyes. She saw herself on the Malabar coast, the wind blowing in her hair, in her sari, as she laughed with all the colours of the sunset on her body. She ran barefoot and played hide and seek with the water as it touched her beautiful body and the wind whispered in her ears: O, Malabar woman!”
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.