Light Up Your Life With Islam

Posts tagged ‘dead’

Case of the Strange Smell

Bismillah.

As I entered my room one afternoon to get something from the cupboard, it was filled with a strange smell. I got the thing I wanted and went out of the room, forgetting all about it. By night the smell had increased and in the morning had increased even more. When the obnoxious odour got unbearable by next afternoon, a ‘search party’ was called for to see what the cause of the problem was. After about a couple of hours, the source was discovered to be a dead mynah bird in the water bowl outside the window. The poor bird had probably died there a day or so ago…

Mynah bird

I thought to myself, the smell of a rotting body, even of a small bird, is so dreadful. What about the stench of millions and millions of rotting and burning bodies in the fire of hell? Even the thought of that awful dead bird smell still makes me cringe, what about that? We often think about the punishment of feeling the extreme heat or seeing fire all around in that great pit of hell but we hardly ever think about the appalling smells there. Imagine not being able to breathe the clean fresh air ever! Imagine the worst smell that your nose ever came across and the suffocation you felt as a result, that suffocation will be worse than that. There will be every possible torture, punishment upon punishment! How do people say, “we’ll bear the punishment of hell for a while, we have to go into heaven eventually anyway”? Will you really be able to bear it, even for a moment?

Wassalam,
Hajrah.

Six Feet Below and Beyond

Written for Shifa Inter-Scholastic Tournament ’13 on the theme same as the title.

Death

When it will all end,
And your body will lie without a friend.
Your world gone to pieces,
Your parents, siblings, nephews and nieces can do nothing and their helplessness only increases,
Tears flow from their eyes but even that rush finally ceases.
And your soul is ready to ascend.

It’s taken wrapped up in a clean shroud smelling of musk,
With warm welcome, the doors of each sky opening up,
Until your name is written in the `illiyeen line-up,
And the soul is ordered back to earth where it belongs,
You hear your friends leaving you alone.

But what if your soul is not welcomed at all?
Wrapped in a sackcloth with a smell so foul,
It finds the gates of the skies closed and now can’t even howl,
The name is written in the sijjeen out and out,
And the soul’s hurled on the earth until it joins the body freaked out.

Now it’s your choice, dearie!
In which category would you like to be?

In which a person lived his life benign,
Submitted to God, prayed on time,
Helped people, repented from crime,
Endured hardships, only to get reward from the divine?

Or the one in which the person partied hard and danced all night,
Forgot his Creator, kept his hands closed tight,
Never bowed in front of Him, who never did anything right,
His clothes and cars were a dazzling sight.

Whichever life you choose my brothers and sisters,
In the end you’ll face three questions,
Irrespective of your family, status and education,
You won’t get through them on your speculations,
Your worldly achievements won’t count,
When your success or failure is taken to a count.

Who is your Lord is the first one.
Did you His obedience shun?
Would you be able to answer Allah, my Rabb?
‘Cuz there your answers can’t be made up.

Who is your Prophet comes next.
Did you follow the sunnah?
Did you even know the text?
How many times did you lose your sleep?
Did your feet swell? In your tahajjud did you weep?

Last but not least, what is your deen.
Do you even know what it means?
Did you live as a Muslim or just took it as a dream?
Did you spread it to the world, this beautiful deen?

While you lie in your grave forsaken and alone,
Based on your deeds a window will be shown,
You’ll catch a glimpse of gardens underneath which rivers flow,
With palaces whose towers with gems glow.
Or based on the bad deeds you have sown,
Great tongues of fire will make you moan,
And gusts of hot air will be blown,
The sights you see will chill you to the bone.

Don’t take this just as a rhyme,
But prepare for that time,
When you’ll lie six feet below begrimed,
And what will happen beyond…

Wassalam,
Hajrah.

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