Helena
IB Expert
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If you look around at people who are left behind when someone passes away..
yes they mourn for the deceased, but then we all get on with our lives. no
one lives for anyone else. when you all die, i will mourn, but i too will
in time just get on with my life. People who you think care about you will
only mourn you for a lil while should you die before them, but all our own
lives are more important than others.
Makes you think whats really important. Seriously, no ones gonna Cry to
Death for you, we'll all be forgotten within (approx) two years of Death -
i guarantee it. Kobita :[
Here is something that was emailed to me:
Assalamu Alaikum Brothers & Sisters,
Please have a read at the e-mail below. Let me assure you that this e-mail
is not one of those that has been forwarded onto millions and no one knows
the source.
This e-mail was written last week (26/10/06) by a brother in Blackburn
to one of our Mufti's in Blackburn.....below is the conversation between
the two, (names have been taken out to safeguard their identity). This is
his own personal account after going to a burial. Read and ponder on wat he
has Written. Look at the effect/thoughts that have entered his mind and
heart....how it made him just sit down in front of a PC and write the
e-mail below.
Assalamu Alaikum
Yesterday, I stood in the rain in pleasington to bury the father of a boy
studying at Darululoom and a girl at TIGHS. Appropriately grey clouds
littered the distant sky, the rain was falling in soft and merciful patter,
the mud underneath my soles increasingly damp and clinging. I was struck by
the haste of the 100-or-so congregation of men and boys to bury, the
efficiency of process, little pause to reflect. There were no eulogies and
great speeches, no great dramas, pageantry nor sermons at the pulpit...just
silent prayer, the faint and silent breathing of a crying and shaking son
barely noticeable.
They carried his body, ravaged and limp no doubt from the ravenous cancer
that had taken such devastating hold. Then it was removed from the flimsy
casket and lowered into a claustrophobic hole in the ground...some planks
of wood and then a deluge of soil and mud...such haste...such haste. I
remember thinking...this whole process took 20 minutes...from Salaah to the
final prayer; where is the ceremony, how come a man's life ends and then he
goes underfoot and is forgotten so quickly. There were more prayers for us
than for the deceased man from the Imam...appropriate really as our need
and
chance is greater than his.
Such a burial...his family so patient and steadfast...his young son so
courageous as he lowered himself into the grave to ensure his father was
lying in the correct manner to receive the angels from the Lord.
This man lived in his latter days as he had died and been buried...with
dignity and courage. His final advice to his children, on whom he had spent
thousands of pounds and hours and sweat in educating on Islam (both his
sons and daughters) was as follows:
'Do not cry for me...for I am ready and at peace with my impending
death. I am ready...knowing that I have prepared you for life and the
Hereafter.'
I fear that our time will come...quicker than we hope or expect. That,
as we run away from our grave destiny, it will envelope and overcome us in
a
manner that makes a mockery of our life chasing pleasures, ambition and
whims. For as we run towards the light and glory of ever-expanding dreams,
the darkness of the grave is calling us...in faint whispers for now, but
soon
physically wrenching us from our great audiences and fame.
As I left the graveyard, I scanned the humanity that was laid to rest
there...and asked the questions that all of us were asking ourselves, but
no-one dare say out loud...when will I have to be in here? Am I ready to
meet my destiny? Am I prepared?
Please pray for us...that we leave a legacy for good for our time...that we
are prepared for our time.
