Burying the future- A self obituary

It was just another time while I was wondering. So to say, looking behind in time. And just about a crazy night, when a friend quipped, that I should write about a Obituary for my self. Brilliant idea to put an obituary, before you are dead, we thought. I don’t know, but it suddenly occurred, while through the ears phones I could hear words fading into the rising pitch of music, what would I actually wish to be on the stone over my grave. And how so ever simple, it might seem, it was not easy to think it over and look at the end. So, as I thought, what it would be like, I assumed it would be for pure feelings for every thing that make up life. I would probably wish it to read, “ My life began as a fortunate kid, with a dad who was like a dad, a mom who was unlike any other mom, my wife was the first and the best (that’s all she bothered to know about, that’s the point, I tried to drive home), my kids, I am sure were mine (in more than one respect), my friends for ages remained like boys, my colleagues never could be selfless, the places were I had been, were all beautiful, be it the muddy alleys of hometown village, or the broadways lined with glossy façade. Life, as a overall package was good or I prayed for it to be. Though I realized late. Rather too late. Tried my best, to have the best squeezed out of it. I do not know if I succeeded, and now no one can help sort it. In the end just tried to cherish the memories. Basically, I loved you all, loved the nature, loved this planet, loved gazing at the blue sky, loved the placid lakes, loved the tumbling clear river, loved those who faded before me, love for those after me, loved the silence of serenity and loved the noise of worlds clutter, missed you all, most of all I miss this life. Will miss it. Given a chance would love to live once more, make it better next time. It might seem wishful for having such life. But then I guess that s what every one wishes for, the wishful things. In the end I cannot describe what formed my identity in the world. Which piece was I in the jigsaw puzzle board. And I suppose search of identity somewhere remains dipped in love for some thing or hate for some one. At the end the fact remains – I am dead and you are alive. And, I love you the most. Thanks for coming.

It appears to me however, though I am an hindu, I would prefer myself buried underneath a large stone, and if not this particular one, there is a better obituary written over it. I don’t know if any one carries or owns in this word, call it a stupid notion, I would love to own that six feet of ground, neat one, as a bonus with this life. And that the grave stone would be over green neatly trimmed green grass, with creepers curling over the grave stone. I mean creepers with some pinkish, yellowish, flowers. And it should curl around in a fashion to just enough for leaving uncovered the part of the obituary to be read by you. Dated : 1980-20XX. Please look into that and Watch it!”

P.S: Pssst, Helloo,.. Occasional visitors are welcome, long stay is not desirable. Here, I rest!