The day before yesterday was Makar Shankaranthi. It was also the birthday of a now 72 year old ex colleague of mine KPS, from Ahmedabad. A very dynamic young man when I had first met in 1972.
I sent a birthday greetings to him on WhatsApp and expected a thank you response from him which did not come the whole day, nor was WhatsApp showing the blue ticks showing that the message had been seen by the recipient.
It had still not been seen yesterday morning. I was beginning to get worried as people of my age do when messages do not get responded to.
I rang up again at 1.00 PM when to my great relief he answered but when he found out who it was calling went almost into a shock as he had received an Obit Notice about my demise just last week from some other ex-colleagues still around. I told him that I was most decidedly not calling from Vaikuntha and that I was very much alive and kicking. I also chided him for not responding to my message and two earlier phone calls when he answered that he was busy with Makara Shankaranthi matters. This little clip being the most significant part of the festival and which had kept him occupied.
He was flying kites!
Later in the evening he sent me a message as to how the confusion took place. Another ex colleague with a name very similar to my surname but of two first and surname had died last week and all of us got the obit notice about his demise. Since KPS read the notice without his reading glasses and rather absentmindedly, he had mistaken the notice to be for me demise.
Has anything like this happened to you?
Mark Twain told the reporter, “Just say the report of my death has been grossly exaggerated.”
You and Twain have something in common. I’m happy about that. I must say, the kite flying looks very fun.
Having flown many kites physically and metaphorically in my misspent youth, I can assure you that both are highly enjoyable.
not to me but to my late dear friend Faith. I had taken her shopping and she needed to go into the post office and withdraw some more cash. I had stayed in the car, but she was a very long time in there. When she came out she looked pretty serious and I said “Okay what’s up?”
The postmaster had taken her aside and gently explained that she could no longer withdraw any money from her husbands account, since he was now dead. She had been his “agent” for years as he was unable to get about.
What we needed to do was, go home and have Reg phone the postmaster…so we did! Of course Reg was hopping mad! Turns out a dude with same first and surname had died 3 months ago…
Both are now with their maker but it was a story that seemed to take a life of it’s own…
Catherine de Seton recently posted..In, no danger from natural disasters, elsewhere
Over here, we have a once in four years process of proving to your bank and pension provider that you are alive by submitting a Medical Certificate from a Registered Medical Practitioner. There is a proposal to shift to a new system that will do away with this procedure.
You may remember my writing about my late father getting mail from his ex employer with the address on the envelope clearly showing The Late Mr. XXXXXXXXXXX!
Wow, you were not calling from the Great Beyond, what a shock for your friend to hear your voice.
It indeed was and he must still be recovering from the shock!