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
Shweta Bhat Poetry 