When I die,   

Have a minute of silence for me

Followed by a three minute dance party

With your favourite song playing. 

If you feel like crying, cry so much that

Your tears make another ocean. 

If you feel like laughing, laugh so hard that

You pee yourself a little. (Just a little.) 

If you feel angry, go to an antique china shop

And transfigure into a raging bull. 

Express yourself however you want

But whatever you do, do it a little too much. 

Because you see where I’m going is far

And I won’t be able to hear you very well

So you’ll have to be loud and live loud. 

When I die, 

Scroll through my social media

And like and comment your nostalgia away

Look at my crazy selfies

And endless dubsmashes

And bathroom singing in public(The singing not the bathing) 

And read my PJs aloud and

Whether these memories give you goosebumps

Or make you roll your eyes at how full of myself I was

Know that each one is now a shining star

Under my endless sky in heaven. 

(Yes, I’m going to heaven. I have a side deal with God.)

If I die young, 

Throw a party for the ones who loved me

And for the ones who were loved by me. 

Plaster good pictures of me at all ages

Showing all of my 28 teeth

All over the walls

So that you look at me every 30 seconds without fail. 

Play the song ‘If I die young‘ by The Band Perry

And slow dance to it. 

Make it a BYOB

Doesn’t matter if the second B

Is Bournvita, Biriyani, Bong or Booze. 

I made friends of all kinds. 

When I die, 

Give me a fitting epitaph

I’ll probably be cremated and not buried. 

So no headstone but label my urn then

With a subtle subtitle translating

Reducing my gorgeous life into one or two lines. 

Say something delicate and touching, like

“Shweta Bhat – She liked herself most days.” 

Or something convoluted exaggerated like 

“Shweta Bhat – Fantastical Earth-bound creature who decimated and rebuilt her own image throughout her life, and loved the game, much like a kindergartener playing with putty.”

Or say something absolutely confounding like

“Shweta Bhat – She arrived. She ate motichur laddoo. Expecto patronum.”

Or just stick with something simple and true, like

“She loffed and loffed and died.”

When I die, 

Pretend to have nightly conversations with me

And freak your family and friends out. 

Trust me, it’s fun. 

Also you’ll not really have to pretend

Because I’ll really be there. 

Okay, you don’t freak out now. 

When I die,

Remember me, atleast for a while. 

Then go honour my life

By living yours. 

©Shweta Bhat

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