Life is at a standstill

"All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another." ~ Antole France

I can't help but feel like the days are going away from me and yet they change nothing with its passing. Maybe I am getting older with each day but it still feels like I am the same and today is no different from a few days before and the same for a few days ahead. I am not complaining about this stagnancy but is it to be endured with patience or is it meant to be the alter ego of a sudden change in my life inevitably nearby. I cannot help but wonder...

In the meantime I think why do my days no longer feel productive. I have no answer, life is a mystery even for the wise so I am left with many unanswered questions. Part of me would just like to slip into the same routine and let life become automatic and expected rather than live it. Yet another part of me feels left behind and I feel like moments too precious are passing me by without any form of resistance to my current feelings.

Maybe it is I am looking for something deeper to life as we all are. Will I find it? Only time shall tell. I feel like the air I am breathing is stale and I have inhaled it too many times before. There is so much to see and be and I am still the same. Circumstances have changed or have they? I am not sure anymore. Looking for fulfillment in the wrong places I suppose.

I think this yearning for a foothold on life and a place to belong will only grow with time. It is in the hope that one day I shall indeed find that which I sought out to claim as my own. Until then this is me saying I await the end to life as I know it.

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Surely Death is the result of Living

انّا للہ و انّا الیہ راجعون

Inna lilahee wa inna ilaihee Raji3oon
"Verily we belong to Allah and to Allah we return"

The days have gone by so quickly, I know not where to start or what to say exactly. Feelings cannot always be expressed but in time it becomes easier to accept what we were feeling many days ago. Death is an absolute result of Living and all who have walked on this earth will surely experience departure from it. We all hope that our eventual and everlasting destination is one of beauty and serenity and it is in this hope that I raise my hands and make du'a for all my beloved ones whom have gone before me.

Ya Allah, grant my Grandma, Grandpa, Uncle and now Great-Grandmother and all those believers who've gone before, a special place in your gardens of unspoken beauty and bountiful comfort. Ya Rab forgive them of their sins and have mercy on them. Ya Rab you are needless of punishing them, and we are dependent on your mercy for salvation. Forgive them and make their Qabr illuminated and pleasant for them all. Ya Rabbi make Barzakh a beautiful experience for them and grant them a place in Janaatul Firdaus. I ask you of this not for myself but for the love and memory of those who I can no longer hold or see. Ya Rab I beg of you to accept this from me, ameen ya Rab.

My intention is not to upset anyone or to evoke pity for we all have lost someone close to us and dying is as human as eating. This post is simply in respect and memory of those who I long to be reunited with inshaAllah. It is an effort to immortalise my Du'a for them and if by some chance you do read this please say Ameen.

For my mother, the first grandchild amongst many who lost her grandma I lend my support and shoulder to lean on. The tears that we shed today should make our reunion all the more sweeter and beautiful.

I salute a life that lasted for 97+ years and left this world to enter into the life everlasting. for the last time Assalamu Alaykum Maa.


Mama and Maa - 2006

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No Me Quitte Pas

No Me Quitte Pas

“Life without a friend is death without a witness.” ~ [Arabic Proverb]

As yet another year passes I still feel the emptiness that once was endowed. A simple word, a shallow sleep, a vague déjà vu and the memories play out on its never ending reel. A momentary flashback and the ache is just as strong as it once was. When the preoccupations of this world fade and our subconscious becomes audible, we are reminded of our lost ones. We’ve all lost someone we held close to our heart and on that common ground we can connect on the feelings it evokes.

“Life is weaker than death, and death is weaker than love.” ~ [Khalil Gibran]

The only survivor of death and loss is love. It will last till the end is the beginning of eternity and beyond. To this I hold onto as I reminisce about the people who I’ve lost. This loss will exist only for the duration of my life and I hope for reconnection. A continuation after an insignificant pause, where mortality ceases and immortality breathes. The last embrace in our memory will finally be embraced with infinite when the yearning evaporates with the warmth of everlasting euphoria…

“Life is a perpetual drunkenness; the pleasure passes, but the headache remains.” ~ [taken from 'Moon Over Morocco']

All that I hold dear will be my burden to carry in which I graciously accept its terms and conditions for now and the rest of my mortal years. Burdensome in its test of patience and nothing more…

“Let us endeavor to live that when we come to die even the undertaker will be sorry.” ~ [Mark Twain]

Once you were here with me and once again we will be together. Your memories have remained for me to endure the wait.

“Dance as if no one's watching, sing as if no one's listening, and live everyday as if it were your last.” ~ [Irish Proverb]

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Flawless Eternity

A poet's bequest,
Read and comment; my humble request,
Gratitude is what I offer to thee,
Penned by yours truly.

Flawless Eternity

A craving that can never be fulfilled
A wish once born is now stifled
To fill a broken vase to quench the thirst
Amongst one who comes last and who comes first?
A yearning that is never satisfied,
A slander that is amplified,
To believe that there is a chance,
To gift mockery with song and dance,
Make merry while the candle burns,
Before the first leaf turns,
A bitter remembrance when the illusion fades,
An emotional volcano cascades,
Happiness without shedding a tear,
Trust without knowing fear,
Affluence without striving,
Dying without ever living,
The worth of something without its exact opposite,
To enter bewilderment without reaching the exit,
To consume far beyond one's limit,
Without a valley there is no summit,
To die amongst the mortal,
To live amongst the immortal,
Beauty that sits upon the throne of light,
Blinding away the beast from plain sight,
An end to the craving that once existed,
The tears have finally ceased,
Déjà vu tickles the memories that painted the past,
And finally the yearning breathes its last.

(25-05-2008)

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If This is Life, Then My Wish is For Death

If in living there is hope then in dying there is realisation of hope only if actions warranted success in this life and in the next. To live in the hope of the life hereafter is my reality. Though some may still argue whether there is life beyond mortality or whether there is such a place as heaven or hell, I firmly believe that these conceptions have truth as my internal compass seeks eternity.

The days drive along whilst the roads to living become more absorbed in fickle inventions and idle discourse. The weak are walked upon and the strong thrive on their prowess. The exceedingly rich amongst us exist because of poverty, as the world moves to the chants of economic acquisition. Money is freedom, a door to possibility or at least this is what the lower income classes perceive. In a world of progress, 15 million children are expected to die of hunger worldwide.

Some nations are benefiting from economic growth whilst the only thing growing in other territories are deaths due to AIDS, starvation and war. United States of America, the so called “land of opportunity” is seen as one of the economic super powers of the world yet one out of every eight children under the age of twelve in the U.S. goes to bed hungry every night. We boast of being civilised yet racism is still breathing healthy in our society.

“In the U.S. hunger and race are related. In 1991 46% of African-American children were chronically hungry, and 40% of Latino children were chronically hungry compared to 16% of white children.” ~ think quest

It is estimated that one in every four people live on less than $1US per day while amongst the 358 who are billionaires have assets exceeding the combined annual incomes of countries with 45 percent of the world's people. [Statistics acquired from UNICEF]
How can there be balance and equity in a society bred upon the dominance of the lesser fortunate?

Some spend the day in search of wealth, others in search of food, others in search of intoxicants and others in search of peace. For the price of one missile, a school full of hungry children could eat lunch every day for 5 years. Wars have gone on so long that the people have forgotten what it was to live in peace. Children born into war have acclimatised to their environment and practice the violence taught to them on the streets. Streets where they should have been able to ride their bicycles, or walk to the nearest sweet shop instead they are confined to curfews and go to sleep with the sound of rockets and missiles.

World leaders have lost their sense of purpose and we have begun to accept the blind to lead. If everyday goodness is slaughtered it would definitely one day become extinct. The candle of life is dimming as the world grows increasingly cold and cruel.

If all this is life, then my wish is for death. In death there is life, eternal life where mortal flaws do not exist. Immortality not based on the choice of good or evil but based on existence. It is a land where just living is the sole objective of life.

“…Only when you drink from the river of silence, shall you indeed sing. And when you have reached the mountain top, then shall you begin to climb. And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance” ~ Kahlil Gibran

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[External Links: http://library.thinkquest.org/C002291/high/present/stats.htm

http://www.unicef.org/]

Outlandish - Look Into My Eyes

Sanctity of the Dead

Growing up in a conservative setting, I inherited teachings of respect for the environment and life on the whole. If respect is given it shall in turn be received. The miracle of life still amazes the best of us and to respect this miracle was of high importance. We know the joy of bringing a baby into this world and we also know the grief of losing loved ones. Birth and death are aspects of life we accept and its consequences we accommodate. In a different scenario, what if it was not as straight forward to accept?

What if the dead became object and not person?

The scent of formaldehyde snaked through the air as I prodded a preserved, discoloured liver with forceps under the light of bright fluorescent bulbs in a student populated laboratory. At the far corner, the laboratory assistant gave out the ever “limited” supply of surgical gloves. Today yet again we would be confined to the use of one hand as it was one glove per person. As the professor surveyed the room of noisy chattering he explained that the “specimens” were disinfected and we should adopt from now, a more hands on approach.

The assistant was reaching nowhere fast and the professor was just upon our heels to oversee what we were viewing, so with a deep breath I pressed my fingers in. Cold and hard to the initial touch and then with great ease I found myself turning the organ to view the various lobes. Finding the ligamentum teres hepatis was a cause for rejoice and brief smiling until the thought of what I held in my hands further sank in.

I would always be anxious to tell my siblings what I had done and seen but now the stories seemed to shrivel and I no longer shared the passing of my day. These old cadavers that lined the anatomy room seemed like paintings on the wall, their place befitted the setting. My mind always remained estranged with the thought of there was once life in these beings just as I am.

We were told that the bodies were donated for the cause of learning and we should appreciate the sacrifice made by others for the benefit of life on the whole. If the body lived after dying then this would certainly be the closest it came in modern day society. Something so personal and guarded was left open on a bare metal tray in a “human icebox”. Was it vulgar and cruel or just too much thought into something inanimate and lifeless? We define serial killers who mutilate their victims as monstrous and we remain virtuous in our search for knowledge at others expense.

For my brief encounters, every time I felt the hint of a giggle or the thought of frivolity and idle blabber my conscience grew heavy and emotion would cease for a period. This course would certainly test our professionalism in training ourselves to remain objective on what was most definitely subjective.

We always justify before giving true thought, in the name of learning and progression these are the bitter sweet tools of the trade. In order to mesh my thought with reality I always place myself in the shoes that have been chosen to fit the roles. Would you consider this your dying wish for an unseen number of strangers to explore what you had chosen to keep private whilst you were alive? Many can argue the fact that the body remains physical and it bares no real resemblance to the one whom it lent its grace to. However, it still remains a mystery how some people after successful heart transplants have adopted similar practices of their donors. It is even seen in the survivors of the donor who feel an unreasonable and natural affection for the person to whom the heart was given to.

How many of these cadavers were actually donated knowing what their life beyond death actions truly entailed? If God forbid one of us were to die now, we would never picture that our last rites were not carried out and instead our bodies were preserved and strung out to be displayed and explored. I am in no way against progression and I see reason in having practical experience but until they remain as paintings on the wall I cannot feel at ease in violating the sanctity of the dead.

Thus with a taste of wonder, a hint of dissatisfaction, a choice of confession and a sprinkle of acceptance I begin my journey for knowledge.

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