Enough talking about love and its equivalent. Time changes and what will be, will be.
Time is of the essence, for what is love but something to fill our time while we are here lounging around in this lonely world waiting for our time to go?
What is the point of anything in this world but for preparing us in the endless journey that beckons after the definite darkness of worldly death?
No one knows how much sand he has got left in his hourglass, what we do is just keep going. This whole life is not a punishment, it is not a test. Rather it is an opportunity to exercise our freedom of choice. What we do becomes what we are.
In the hospital just now, I saw many signs in the ward reminding the patients that it is still mandatory for a Muslim to pray even though he/she is sick. The ward even provide tayamum dust in bottles and water sprays for less able person to perform wudhu. Here and there you can see posters showing step by step the various ways that prayers can be performed: on a chair, on the bed and even when paralyzed. Even paralyzed people are called to prayer! There really isn't any excuse to escape solat.
However, the very presence of various reminders for solat makes it clear how many people see diseases or sickness as a ticket out of the responsibility put on the shoulders of Muslims. Or maybe some people see the ailments they suffer as an unfair card dealt to them in life's gamble. Or even as a punishment of some kind.
I don't know. To figure out the reason for something is beyond me. I can't say that someone got what they got because they're a bad person or otherwise. That is not fair because there is no way we can judge anything or anyone justly by being another person, a bystander. What goes on in the heart and mind sometimes don't translate well into actions. So don't. It's too complicated for our little minds. Leave the reasons behind and let it be.
Let us work on what we know. What we do know is that as death is as sure as life, then the preparations need to be done accordingly. It's like you know you're going to move to another country and may be deported there at any time and you're not even sure you're coming back. So you pack some clothes, service your car, sell your house, buy a property in that country, go to the money changer to get some local currency to live comfortably, notify loved ones what to do when one fine day you're not there anymore; ultimately tying up the loose ends in your current life so that you can start afresh in your new setting.
However, this particular trip is special as you're given up until the last minute to repent. No other holiday agencies give this kind of offer; you can choose until the eleventh hour whether you want to go to heaven or hell. Modern travel agents would want you to confirm beforehand but not this one ;) So, lying in your deathbed is like already arriving at the airport and waiting to check in your baggage. It sadden me to realize that sometimes we harbor the greatest resent toward God. We blame Him for everything, so we're like paying back to Him for giving you all the sh*t to live with all this while by holding out our repentance. Stubborn as a mule, they say.
What if, while we are drowning in our bitterness we are summoned to Him and all hope is gone?
As you refuse to set your destination, it is set for you. And you're set to be there for all eternity. There, it'll be pretty frustrating to know that we had it coming. All we hope for is for time to go back. But that will never happen. The last sand has dropped, and the hourglass is turned. This time, the sands will never stop.
