Another beloved friend writes a reflection:
I woke up after a long, deep, and well needed sleep. It was quite an
okay morning, the same tired feeling I felt every morning, just not as dreadful
as usual. I went on with my day as I would usually. Checked my phone, washed my face, brushed my teeth, got some breakfast and showered. This week
was the one right after my special-time-of-the-month, and I usually have a hard time going back to
my praying routine. Prayers were usually on and off after this time, but I
eventually get back on track. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a very faithful person,
and I love God and I know very well my duties towards Him. I try my best but I
have some difficulty not letting this bloody world distract me. I carried on my day’s duties and the dream I
had the past night instantly hit me. The last thing I thought during my dream
was: “Crap. This means I’m gonna die.” I remember an old friend of mine who
once told me that in a dream, the moment you begin to do a higher level of
thinking you instantly wake up, which is usually why the end of your dream
usually holds the most meaning and usually why it’s the most memorable. I dreamt
that I was in a gorgeous white gown. My hair was up in a simple bun, it looked
darker than usual. My dress was A-line, flowy, but not puffy, with a beautiful
sweeping train and lace sleeves. It was a wedding dress. I was not happy, I was
not sad; I was indifferent. It was my wedding day and I was doing what I had to
do. I woke up from my dream, and I
didn’t quite forget what I dreamt, but I didn't think about it either. I had
things to accomplish; dreams never meant anything to me.
I went along with my life, and
the moment I recalled my dream, I remembered sitting between my mother and her
friends a while ago, and they were interpreting dreams, somehow the topic of
wedding dresses and getting married came up in their conversation. They said that if a girl sees herself in a
wedding dress in a dream, it means that she will die. At the time, I laughed and said they were
talking nonsense. There could be a
million reasons why a wedding dress would come up in a dream, either like many
girls, you’re wedding obsessed, or like me and a few others, getting married is
a nightmare. I could understand why such a dream would symbolize death to
me. But today was different, it didn’t
just symbolize death, it meant death. It’s not like I believed 100% of their
interpretation, but at the back of my head, I thought to myself, “What if they
were right?” I mean I've never really
met anyone who dreamt about being in a wedding dress, probably because they
never lived long enough to talk about their dream.
I’m not usually a paranoid
person, but I have my moments. I tried to shrug the negative thoughts away, and
go on with my day, but I couldn't stop. At first I wasn't so scared, I just stopped
for a moment, and listened to myself, to my soul, to my body, to my feelings.
It didn't feel like I was going to die. This pause was not the only one I took
throughout the day; I repeated the process quite a few times. I wasn't freaking
out or anything, but the possibility was there, and if it was probable, then
there really wasn't anything I could do about it, I can’t stop myself from
dying. So, I called my mom. The phone rang a few times, we exchanged how-are-you’s, I-miss-you’s and all that, she was at the mall with a friend. My mother
was showing off the shoes I bought for her, and her friend loved them so they
went to pick up a pair. At the back of my head I thought, what a tragic way for
me to die on my mother, she’ll probably treasure those shoes forever. She was
busy, she asked me if I needed anything, and I told her that I was okay, and
that I just wanted to tell her about a dream I had. She was busy. She didn't really care much to ask what I dreamt, but I told her anyway. She didn't seem
sad or worried though, she just asked me if there was music and clapping, and
zaghareet (Arab war cry as I call it). I told her there weren't any, she didn’t
really listen. She said “So, you don’t need anything? Khalas, I’ll call you
later, let me finish what I’m doing.” In my head I was thinking “If I die, it will definitely
be tragic for her.”
I looked around me, my room wasn't as neat as it could be, and I didn’t have my wudu. I got up and did my
wudu, and cleaned my room. I started the laundry that’s been piling up for the
past week. If I die I want to be on my
wudu, and I want my room to be clean and my laundry to be done. It might be a
weird way to go about it, but that was my first reaction. I wasn't shaky or
scared or worried. If I have to go, I have to go. And no, I am not ready to
die, not religiously, not personally. I’m still young, and I have so many
dreams, and I have so much I need to change in myself for Allah. I always tried
to keep my attachment to this world very minimal and there was always a war going
on inside my head. But I am human, so no I was not ready to meet my Lord. I was
ashamed, but I trusted God. I was worried, but my eman has always been strong.
I made so many mistakes, and I still am, but God is most forgiving. I want to
meet my Lord with a pure heart, good intentions, mountains of good deeds, and
years of repentance. Today should not be my last day, but if it was, there’s
nothing I could do about it, except wait, and make sure it happened when I was
doing something good.
I blasted the Qur’an with the
voice of my favourite reciter. He began to cry halfway through the Surah. “This
could be a sign,” I thought to myself. I listened and I let myself feel every
word; I’ve never been this focused on Qur’an. I always loved it, but I usually
would get side tracked. “If I’m going to
die today, I hope I die now.” I wished. A Dua kept going on and on through my
head, Allahuma thabetny a'nd al soa'al. I repeated it in my head almost a million
times. When I’m asked, I really hope I don’t fail myself. But how can I be sure
that I won’t. The truth is I can’t be sure.
Ramadan is so soon, could I
really die before I get the chance to fast in the blessed month again? I felt
so doomed. It was time for prayer, I renewed my wudu. It had to be perfect,
this prayer has to count because it could be my last. While doing my wudu, I
smiled, because I knew that if anyone knew what was going on in my head they
would think I was so silly. I also smiled because I also remembered all the
times I asked God to make my last living moment in my sujood. Maybe this was
it, maybe God wants to answer my prayer, and maybe I’ll drop dead in my prayer,
in an empty house, away from my family and friends. Wonderful. I prayed, and
this time I recited every word perfectly, out loud, slowly, my sujood was much
longer than usual, and tears flooded my prayer matt. I had to get up
eventually, and no my life did not end in prayer. I studied a little, and
looked at the beautiful green book laying on my side table. I missed it so
much. It’s been weeks since I last opened it, and read anything other than
surat Al Kahf. I brushed my fingers along the top of this beautiful book, I've always wanted to dedicate an hour of my day to reading it. I always wanted to
pray fajr, make my dua, and read the Qur’an. It was a dream for me to start my
day in such a peaceful way. It was a dream because the days when I didn’t miss
fajr I would pray and go back to sleep, the dua would happen on occasions. I
hoped that my dreams would count for something if I died. I mean I’m not a bad
person, but I’m not the best person I could be, and God knows what’s in my
heart.
At lunch time I ate, and I
forgot to say bismillah. What if I choke to death? And on top of that I forgot
to say bismillah, how horrible of me. These thoughts got the best of me, I
asked my roommate what she thought. I asked if maybe there was hint, I asked if
she thought I could feel it. “You can’t, death happens so suddenly.” She was
very comforting, and I had to pee. What if I died while peeing? In the washroom
the dirtiest place and the worst place to die. Terrible. I hoped against it, as
soon as I finished I redid my wudu, which is not something I would do normally
unless I had to pray.
My imagination went wild, would the angel of
death be gentle, beautiful, scary, friendly? Would he give me a moment before
he takes my soul? Will there be a light coming out of my heart? Will I feel
anything? Will everything I’ve ever felt come rushing out of me? Will my grave
be bright, and comfortable? Will it be as green as I always imagined it to be?
Will I see Allah’s beauty? I hoped.
My day preceded as such, I kept trying to go on with my life, but the thought of death kept haunting me. Scenario’s would play out in my head. All my actions had an outcome, every prayer was prayed right on time, and was perfectly mastered, my Dua was ten times longer than usual, my cries for forgiveness were more sincere, and my fear of Allah was renewed every minute of my day. I wished that I could live longer than today, so that I could make sure that every day of the rest of my life played out like this. These thoughts were scary but they kept me going in the right direction.
So for those of you who read
this far, I didn’t type this big blob of a life story for no reason. I typed it
to send a message across. Even though I could have sent this message in a
shorter way, I just felt like blabbing. Now for the message that we all
probably already know, but boy did I need reminding:
You cannot
feel death. There are no signs and there are no warnings. There is nothing you
can do to stop it, and death does not care who you are. Death does not care what
you dream of doing, or what you are doing. Live every moment as if it’s your
last, live every moment with fear and repentance. Live every moment with the
thought of Allah at the back of your head. Live every moment as though it’s the
moment you will meet your Lord; as though it’s the moment you will be asked.
Pray for yourself. Pray for yourself and for those you love as much as you can. Keep a prayer in your heart, and repeat it at the back of your head at every
minute of your day. Purify yourself; purify your body, purify your tongue,
purify your heart, and purify your mind. Listen to your soul, listen to your
conscience. Listen to the Qur’an with every living cell inside of you and allow
yourself to feel. Allow yourself to feel Allah’s presence and his blessings.
Lastly my lovely sisters, and brothers in Islam, I ask you to thank Allah for
every second you are blessed with, because it is indeed a blessing.
Alhamdulilah, may Allah ease our pains, and have mercy on our souls, may he
give us the light of knowledge, wisdom, and eman, may he protect us from the
attachment of this world. May he keep us on our straight path, and help us
overcome our obstacles. Ameen.