the sun won’t come up again, for you

life is fleeting. it might seem like the days are never ending and the sun will always come up for you and that life is nothing but something taken for granted.

there will always be a part of life taken for granted. like how our lungs compress and decompress with every breath, how our kidneys and liver and intestines work so seamlessly without us having to switch it on or off, how our provision is always laid out for us, in front of our face, in terms of food, security, health and more — yet we take this for granted, a given for every single day in our lives.

we might be tested with poverty, illnesses, and much more. heck, i won’t even mention what’s happening at the other side of the world — see, even that is taken for granted for those who aren’t a part of that world. may the pain and suffering for the oppressed be lifted and may they be accepted as martyrs, aameen.

i had to attend a funeral yesterday. a good friend’s father had passed after a while battling it in the hospital. he was hanging on for a long time. i can only imagine how exhausting it was and i’m grateful that he has passed on. may his pain be a means of his expiation of sins. may we be granted a good ending, prevented from bad ending, and may we be allowed entry to His gardens, aameen.

but what struck me was, right after the burial details were disclosed and plans were made with friends to attend the funeral, it was immediately followed by: “after that, want to go and eat?”

gosh. that was how easily we are forgotten. imagine you are being buried and after your loved ones settled your burial… they move on with their lives so quickly. no matter how much they love you, they cannot stay there forever. it’s over for you — and they will move on.

nothing else is left for you in this world, except three things.

“When a man dies all his good deeds come to an end except three: Ongoing charity (Sadaqah Jariyah), beneficial knowledge and a righteous son who prays for him.” [Sunan an-Nasa’i 3651]

right after the burial was completed, we walked away from the grave and found a spot under a shade. then the conversations held were not about the deceased or death, but instead it was about life, about what’s happening later, about things that are in the plans in our life.

and i really couldn’t help thinking: remembering death is also fleeting. how we can already forget about the deceased buried beneath just after taking a couple of steps away from it, how we are not reflecting and being weighed down by the thought of death while being surrounded by thousands of graves, how we don’t think of death as we get on the bus, and go about our lives again?

may we live with remembrance of death — for truly with death, eternal life begins. may we always take heed of time slipping out of our fingers, of how much we need to rectify ourselves before it’s too late, of each passing day bringing us closer to the grave.

remind me lest i forget – and after writing this (me) and reading this (you), all the more, may we always (try our best to) remember.