There’s a really curious, almost fantastical quality to how we perceive death
On the one hand, there’s a fear that haunts us all at almost every step
Of our lives — people we love, dreams we’ve cherished, our own physical form
But then the finite nature of this world can be exhilarating in its own
Way, because we don’t know what happens next
We believe what we’ve read in the texts
Yet there’s still this mystery… a darkness that we want to both avoid and enter at the same time
And sometimes, at least, I project some of life’s mortal mysteries within that vortex on the other side
In the privilege of youth, we, well at least I, place things behind the doorstep of death in hopes that our, or my, demise would avoid the thought of what’s to come
What’s going to happen to the people I love?
Will my sister be happy where she ends up?
Will my friends forget about me and move on with their lives? How lonely does “alone” really feel? Is my
Decision really helping or hurting someone at the end of the day?
I aspire to never have to find the answer, so I put off thinking about it, as I’ve been saying
Falsely assuming that I’ll pass through the gate and hit the end before I have to answer any of the questions
But now I stand at the face of a gate, only to see many gates ahead, and I guess that’s the function
Cruising on, gate after gate, picking up strife
And grief and joy along the way
Hoping you find things to cherish on your mobile stay
So that one day
When it ends you can be content to say
after Khuda Hafiz2
1 – (prayer before you start something, in the name of Allah)
2 –(salutation you say when you leave somewhere, may the lord protect you)
I really like the ending. It’s so optimistic.