Saying hello to the end

Krittika Sharma is also the former director of Death Over Dinner (India), which saw her organise over 2,00,000 dinners

She departs with the wisdom of this life, the humour of the universe, the warmth of an Indian, the manners of a Canadian, the punctuality of a German, and the style of the French - bound by the heart and lifelines, never by bloodlines. These are the concluding lines of Krittika Sharma's obituary written to her own self.

Sharma, who has found a safe haven during the ongoing Coronavirus outbreak in the hills of Coonoor, thinks writing your own obituary while alive is not only therapeutic, but also helps imagine and reflect on life. "Traditionally, an obituary is written after a person's death, by the survivor of the loss. This idea of writing an obit to self was in the making for the past few years. I feel when you sit to write it, it helps you see your life goals clearly. It also empowers you to be remembered the way you choose," Sharma says, as she begins talking about her new initiative, Maajhi.

The project is designed to enhance death literacy through the lens of connection, compassion and consciousness in order to empower people to die well. Named by the founder's grandmother Tripta, Maajhi means ferryman in Hindi. Many cultures believe that the ferryman takes the soul across the worlds. "The COVID-19 pandemic has made the concept of loss and grief so loud for everybody. And yet, we choose not to talk about it [death]. Over 10 years ago, I was inspired to be in this space of promoting death literacy after a loved one fell sick. Overnight, I became a caregiver, and I wasn't prepared for the near-loss situation that followed. Dealing with grief by yourself is what most people do. Since bereavement counselling was not so active a decade ago, I had to deal with this by myself. Much later, I explored the idea of obit to self," she adds.

Deepak Ramola, a Dehradun resident, who is a wisdom historian and educator, has been part of Sharma's journey. Ramola, 29, says, "We had together thought of using the obit to self as a calming agent. I remember doing it myself, and it was a powerful experience. The subject of death seems grim or scary because we don't discuss it; we don't accept its permanence. When you write your own obituary, you not only sit in an empowering way, confronting what death is, but also appreciate and take stock of what life has been like for you."

Maajhi has other offerings, including death meditation and the last dialogue. Mumbai-based Anand Parmeshwaran, 48, who signed up for the meditation programme a few months ago, says, "I lost three batchmates from my engineering college in the pandemic. Even I was diagnosed with COVID-19 in April this year, when hospitals were packed. I asked myself, what if something untoward happens? After I recovered, I attended a virtual death meditation session." It required him to lie down and face the reality of his own death. Initially, he experienced discomfort, but gradually he says, he accepted that humans are not immortal. "You go through a mix of emotions, and then you are a lot calmer. After this session, I have begun keeping a logbook to make sure I have all things in place if anything were to happen to me."

Sharma, who has over 13 years of experience in research, behaviour design, and creative strategy says, death belongs to us all. "This realisation of connectedness and universality has given Maajhi wonderful friends from across the globe. We've received obituaries from people aged seven to 93. Interestingly, ‘life' was the most frequently used word in the obituaries. The key is to not immortalise loved ones, but accept that they are human and still love them," Sharma says.

Follow www.maajhi.com