This 39 page  book covers an area about which most people have very little knowledge but which is at the same time, of vital interest to all human beings. It outlines what happens to the human soul from the moment of death until the arrival of the Day of Judgement. It describes the death profess itself, the exact relationship of the soul to the body, the states of the soul after it leaves this world, and the nature of the ongoing relationship between the dead and those who are still alive. Ibn al-Qayyim al-Jawziyyah was born into a scholarly and virtuous family in 691 AH/ 1292 A.D. At that time Damascus was a centre of literature and thought.

Many schools were located there and he studied and graduated under the protection, direction and sponsorship of his father. He was particularly influenced by his Shaykh and teacher Ahmad b. Taymiyyah, and also by Ibn ash-Shirazi amongst others. Layla Mabrouk, an eminent, contemporary, Egyptian scholar has skillfully abridged a classic work by the well known scholar.

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The Soul Journey

A Message to share:
~There will be no more sunrises, no minutes, hours or days. All the things you collected, whether treasured or forgotten, will pass to someone else. Your wealth, fame and temporal power will shrivel to irrelevance. It will not matter what you owned or what you were owed. Your grudges, resentments, frustrations, and jealousies will finally disappear.

~So, too, your hopes, ambitions, plans, and to-do lists will expire. The wins and losses that once seemed so important will fade away. It won’t matter where you came from, or on what side of the tracks you lived, at the end. It won’t matter whether you were beautiful or brilliant.

~Even your gender and skin color will be irrelevant.

~So what will matter? How will the value of your days be measured?
~What will matter is not what you bought, but what you built; not what you got, but what you gave. What will matter is not your success, but your significance. What will matter is not what you learned, but what you taught. What will matter is every act of integrity, compassion, courage or sacrifice that enriched, empowered or encouraged others to emulate your example.

~What will matter is not your competence, but your character. What will matter is not how many people you knew, but how many will feel a lasting loss when you’re gone. What will matter are not your memories, but the memories that live in those who loved you. What will matter is how long you will be remembered, by whom and for what.

~ Living a life that matters doesn’t happen by accident. It’s not a matter of circumstance but of choice.
~Choose to live a life that matters.

~"We make a living by what we get; we make a life by what we give"

from:

http://www.quranclub.net/2009/12/ready-or-not-some-day-it-will-all-come.html

This short video shows the importance of salaah and how we would implement it in our daily lives.

Fiqh Of Janazah, Burials & Inheritance

A matter that everyone believes in, the Muslim, Jew, Hindu and even atheist – the belief that sickness and death is a reality to be faced by all.

It affects the rich and poor, white and black, evil and good, even the best of mankind, Muhammed Sallalaahu alaihi wassalam who said on his deathbed "There is no deity worthy of worship besides Allah, verily the pangs of death are severe!" [Bukhari]

A reality so clear and so near but something many shy away from discussing whereas the Messenger Sallalaahu alaihi wassalam advised "Increase the mention of the destroyer of desires: Death" [Tirmidhi]

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Anfal, a rich young girl, sat waiting impatiently at the doctor’s clinic to get the results of a medical test. She was in a hurry to attend a party and feared she might be late for her appointment with the hairdresser. She never thought the result would be anything important. It was just a precaution insisted upon by her family.

She had never suffered any serious illness, apart from the odd ache in her never suffered any serious illness, apart from the odd ache in her limbs. Then, it was her turn to see the doctor. She hurried inside to get it over with as quickly as possible. She was surprised to see the doctor look sad and concerned as he asked, “Is this yours?”

She answered, “No, it is my daughter’s.”

She wanted to know the truth and thought that perhaps he would hide the truth, if she told him it was her own. He asked her to have a seat, so she sat feeling somewhat afraid. She looked at him anxiously, as he said,

“Why did not you send a man to get the results?”

Anfal said, “It was on my way so there was no need to send someone else.”

The doctor looked sadly at her and said, “You seem to be an educated girl. You understand the nature of life.”

He stopped talking, and she began to tremble.

She asked, “What do you mean doctor?”

The doctor said, “The result indicates that there is a blood disease.” He looked down at his papers and remained silent. Anfal had to ask him to give her more information. She cried in fear, “Is it cancer?”

He did not look at her, but a cloud of sadness covered his face. It was as if he was sentencing her to death.

She said in a broken voice, “I am finished then.” The doctor knew then that she had lied, but it was too late to hide the truth. He looked kindly at her and said, “I am sorry for you. Why did you lie? Anyway life and death are matters within Allah’s power. Many sick people live long and many healthy ones die.”

Anfal felt as if she were drowning, as if a hard fist was cruelly squeezing her heart. She tried hard to regain her strength and said, “I do apologize. Thank you doctor.”

The doctor encouraged her saying, “Be strong and optimistic. Medical science is constantly progressing. Some of today’s incurable sicknesses can be cured tomorrow I still have hope. Leave me your telephone number.” She repeated the number automatically without knowing what she was saying. Feeling great shock and bitterness, she again thanked the doctor and left.

At home she kept the truth to herself. She did not know how to share it. Anyway, everyone was busy, getting ready for the party. Her mother asked, “Have you been to the doctor? Why did not you go to the hairdresser?” It was just a by-the-way question, needing no answer. She briefly said, “I am not going to the party !”

She went upstairs into her room and locked the door.

She stretched out on her bed fully clothed and listened to her family’s voices, as if they were coming from a far away place. The wind seemed to her to be a funeral sad tune, lamenting her approaching death. The bedroom seemed strange to her as she would be leaving it soon. What about the house? It would not remember her. She was just a guest. Others would take her room and soon forget her. She tried to cry but tears did not help.

She looked around her in pain. Those curtains that she had tried so hard to get, would stay after her. It would not have mattered if they had been made of the roughest fabric, she would leave them for others. She wished she had not troubled herself for such things. She wished she had saved her time and money for more useful things, which could have been helpful to her in her difficulty.

She wondered, “What is useful to me?” She was young, beautiful and rich with everything her heart could desire. Could anything help her and save her from death? She had always longed for an official job with a good salary. She had it, but could it save her from death?

An idea struck her. She hurried to the phone while everyone was away. She dialed the doctor’s number and asked eagerly, “If I travel abroad can I find a cure?”

He said, “There is nothing new abroad. It is a waste of money.”

She put the phone down and sat on a nearby chair.

Her salary would not change matters. She walked through the house’s rooms as if saying her farewells. She paced the small garden and looked at the trees. She whispered, “I wish these trees knew I am leaving them, those stones, walls…I wish these doors knew my hands will soon no longer open them. I wish those flowers, that I planted and watered knew. How often the thorns and hard stones tore my hands!

How often I watered those dying flowers. I wish they knew the meaning of my departure. These fruiting trees were tiny when I planted them. I did my best to help them flourish until they grew up healthy and fruitful. Will they know I am soon leaving? Will they remember my days in their company? What about these seats, I used to rest on. Will they miss my presence? Will they be ready for someone else to settle on them? My writing desk felt my writing in tears and in smiles, does it know I am leaving? Will it miss my pen and papers in its drawers? I wish they all knew I am leaving. I wish I had known I was leaving, then I would not have cared so much for this life. I would not have felt proud and arrogant…

Had I known I were a guest in this world I would not have been cheated or tempted by its luxuries…

Had I known this I would have been aware that leaving a simple life is easier than leaving a luxurious one…

Had I lived a simple life, I would not have found it difficult to cross from this world to the next. My family is now enjoying the party…how often I longed for such parties, how much I cared for fashion and hairstyles! Can they help me now?”

Anfal threw herself down on the nearest chair as if she had realized a truth previously unknown to her.

She said, “What shall I take with me? Nothing but the coffin and my deeds. What kind of deeds will go with me on my long journey? Nothing! Yes, nothing!” She remembered her friend Sarah, who used to advise her and guide her to the right path of Allah. She used to remind her of the Qur’anic verse: …and make provision, for the provision is the guarding of oneself. [Al-Baqarah:239]

She had never considered the importance of good deeds. Now she was in need of such deeds to present to Allah. She would stand to give her account, but what would she say? How could she expect Allah’s mercy when she disobeyed His orders? How could she ask for forgiveness when she never even thought of obeying Him in her life’s affairs?

She wished she had read the Holy Qur’an instead of all those cheap novels. She wished she had gained some knowledge of her religion instead of reading film-star magazines. She continued wishing she had done few things, and not done other things. She wished she had not angered this person or that, and had never lied or gossiped about anyone. She wished she had not been proud and despised the poor.

She said, “I wish I could start my life all over again to make-up for my errors and to obey Allah’s orders. I worshipped my desires and ignored my Creator. I wish I could live for a while to make up for my sins.”

She remembered a Qur’anic verse, her grandfather used to recite: Until when death overtakes one of them he says: Send me back, my Lord. Haply I may do good in that which I have left. By no means! It is a mere word that he speaks, and before them is a barrier until the day they are raised.
[surah al-Muminun: 99]

Here she said, “Oh God, I do mean it…” Tears burst from her eyes. She cried bitterly in repentance, not pain. She decided to obey Allah in all His orders if she lived a bit longer. The phone rang and she walked towards it lazily. Tears in her eyes she said, “Yes?”

Someone said, “Can I speak to Miss Anfal?” She knew the speaker. It was her doctor. She said, “Yes, speaking.”

The doctor said cheerfully, “Congratulations my daughter! There is nothing wrong with you. Thank God!”

She was stunned with surprise. She did not know what to say. “No disease? How? You are joking, doctor!”

The doctor said, “May Allah protect me I am not joking. I have just got an apology from the analyst. He explained that there was a mix-up with the names. Your name was written instead of someone else. I have your medical report here in front of me. You are quite well. Be thankful to Allah my daughter.”

Excitedly she said, “Thanks be to Allah, Thank you doctor.”

She put the phone down, feeling as if she was new born. She knew she was safe for a while, but death would certainly come one day. She had no time to waste. However long she lived she was a guest.

The first thing she did was to perform her prayer, which she had neglected for a long time. She promised Allah to obey His orders to pray, fast, and stick to wearing decent clothes. She would also give up whatever Allah had forbidden. In order not to forget this, she wrote the Qur’anic verse on a placard and hung it on the wall. On the other side she wrote a wise saying:

“Repent the day before you die. Because you do not know when you will die, then always be repentant.”
tawbah = the way of Jannah

i got this story from a sister of ours in islam. May Allah rewards her for sharing this, ameen

I Often Think When I Might Sin

I often think when I might sin,
What if the Angel would come to me then?
Would I want to be risen doing that sin?
I often think quietly to myself,
Where will I go, oh, where will I go,
When the Angel comes to me?

What if the Angel comes at night,
With a command from Allah to take my soul?
Where will I run, oh, where will I run?
What if the Angel comes to me when I’m driving my car?
Can I lock my doors, so the Angel can’t get in?
Where will I hide, oh where will I hide?

I often think when I might sin,
What if the Angel would come to me then?
Would I want to be risen doing that sin?
I often think quietly to myself,
Where will I go, oh where will I go,
When the Angel comes to me?

What if the Angel comes in the middle of tea?
Maybe I can plead for a later return.
How will I plead, oh, how will I plead?
What if the Angel comes to me when I’m watching TV?
Can I beg to the Angel for a little more time?
How will I beg, oh how will I beg?

I often think when I might sin,
What if the Angel would come to me then?
Would I want to be risen doing that sin?
I often think quietly to myself,
Where will I go, oh, where will I go?
When the Angel comes to me?

“Suppose you learn today that you have only one more day to live; you’ll die tomorrow. How will you spend your last day?”

This interview question was posed long before the age of mass media. The interviewer approached prominent scholars and people known for their virtuous lives with the idea that he would compile their answers in a book. Such a book would provide the readers with inspiration for the most important virtues.

But the most inspiring response came from the person who did not provide a wish list of virtuous deeds. He was the great muhaddith Abdur Rahman ibn abi Na’um and he replied: “There is nothing that I could change in my daily schedule learning that it is my last day. I already spend everyday in my life as if it is going to be my last.”

Death is the most certain aspect of life. According to the latest statistics, 6178 people die in the world every hour. These are people of all ages, dying of all causes. Some of these deaths will make headlines. The great majority will die quietly. Yet everyone will enter his grave the same way. Alone. At the time appointed by God. Science and technology can neither prevent nor predict death. It is solely in the hands of the Creator.

“O mankind! If you are in doubt concerning the Resurrection, then lo! We have created you from dust, then from a drop of seed, then from a clot, then from a little lump of flesh shapely and shapeless, that We may make it clear for you. And We cause what We will to remain in the wombs for an appointed time, and afterward We bring you forth as infants, then give you growth that you attain full strength. And among you there is he who dies young, and among you there is he who is brought back to the most abject time of life, so that after knowledge he knows naught!”[Al-Haj 22:5]

We see it happening all the time. Yet it is amazing how we feel that it won’t happen to us. At least not anytime soon. We bury our own friends and relatives but think that we’ll live forever. Our attitudes about death defy all logic. In a way we recognize it and even plan for it. We take out life insurance policies. We may do estate planning. Businesses and governments have contingency plans to carry out their operations in case of sudden loss of their leaders. But this is recognition of death as an end point of this life. Where we fail is in recognizing it as the beginning of another life that will never end and where we’ll reap what we sow here.

A central teaching of Islam is that it is our recognition of and preparation for that eternity that must separate those who are smart from those who are not. As the Prophet, Sall-Allahu alayhi wa sallam said: “Truly smart is the person who controlled his desires and prepared for life after death.”

There is a moving story about Bahlool, who, in his innocence seems to be on the opposite end of the scale of worldly-smartness. Khalifa Haroon ur Rashid had given him access to his court probably because his naiveté was a source of entertainment to him. Once the Khalifa gave him a walking stick saying, “It is meant for the most foolish person in the world. If you find a person more deserving of it than yourself, pass it on.” Several years later Haroon ur Rashid fell seriously ill and no medical treatment seemed to work. Bahlool visited him and inquired about his condition. The conversation went something like this:

Haroon: “No treatment is working. I see my final journey ahead of me.”

Bahlool: “Where are you going?”

Haroon: “I am going to the Other World.”

Bahlool: “How long will you stay there? When will you come back?”

Haroon: “No one ever comes back from that world.”

Bahlool: “Then you must have made especial preparations for this journey. Did you send an advance group to take care of you once you arrive?

Haroon: “Bahlool, you have to go there alone. And no I did not make any preparations.”

Bahlool: “Ameer-ul-Momineen! You used to send troops to make extensive preparations for you for even short trips of only a few days. Now you are going to a place where you’ll live forever but you have made no preparations! I think I have found the person more deserving of the stick that you had given me some years ago.”

This story speaks to all of us. We may not be kings but we do plan our trips of even a few days very carefully. How about preparing for the journey into eternity? How about making the concern for the Hereafter the cornerstone of our lives here?

Actually, that concern can change our lives here as well. This world is an abode of deception. Here we are not punished the moment we commit a sin. This fools us into thinking that we can get away with it. Remembering death is the antidote for that deception. A person who remembers that he will have to stand before his Creator and be accountable for his actions simply cannot defy God!

In the story of Pharaoh, we learn that when he saw death approaching he declared belief in the God of Moses. Before that he had been fooled by his apparent power. His repentance came too late but it did show how his arrogance and intransigence evaporated when faced with the certainty of death.

It is amazing how a lot of our own “confusions”, frivolous arguments, excuses (for why we cannot do this or avoid that), or plane laziness can melt away when we visualize ourselves in our grave! Death settles lot of arguments. Its remembrance can do that too. Before it is too late. He was indeed a very wise person who spent everyday of his life as if it was going to be his last day. But that certainly should be the goal for all of us!

by Khalid Baig

Got this in an email,  We should think of death every single day, not with the Western Mindset of “Live everyday like it’s your last, do as you please”  but rather Live everyday like it matters and the next day you could be meeting Allah & his angels of the grave being questioned for your life and how you used it.

The Day I Died By Saleh Ali (courtesy of Al-Jumuah Magazine)

Life is unpredictable. But I always thought I could predict what was going to happen next. It was only six days ago. I was driving home with my friends, Malik and Omar. It was Halloween night. We had just watched the movie Saw 3 at the recently refurbished theater at the 3rd Street Promenade in Santo Monica , CA . It was 11:46pm when I glanced at the clock on the dashboard and realized I hadn’t made Isha But I didn’t say anything, as not to upset the mood. Just three hours earlier I put off the Isha until after the movie. Now I was running out of time.

I only lived 26 years. My 27th birthday was exactly two weeks away. I always imagined I would live long. At least until age 60. It just wasn’t imaginable that I would have such a sudden, unexpected death. I had graduated from the University of Southern California three years earlier with a degree that means absolutely nothing right now.
Shortly after, I landed a job as the marketing director of a major clothing company. Aside from the usual life problems, I was living a normal life. My girlfriend of 4 years was starting to pressure me into us getting a place together. I knew I wasn’t supposed to have a girlfriend in the first place but I enjoyed her company and friendship. I wasn’t ready to give that up. I used to always tell myself that eventually I would marry her. Plus, what would these few years of living a sinful life mean by the time I got older?

My job, girlfriend and life-long friends took up the majority of my time. It seemed I never had time to offer salah. I hardly even had time to sit down and eat. Offering salah was always something that continuously bugged me. The more I postponed my salahs, the more it irritated me. I did give an effort to keep up on my salahs. But for the last two years of my life I gave up. I pretty much stopped making salah altogether. I never made it home in time to make salah that day. Saw 3 was a walk through the rose garden compared to what I was about to experience. I was doing 85 on the 10 freeway. At 12 midnight, 85 mph is not considered speeding. Omar flipped through FM radio stations searching for a song he liked. Malik had fallen asleep in the back seat. I began to doze off too.
I used to hate when that happened. I shook out of what seemed like a 10 second snooze. I tried to keep my eyes open. But again I dozed off. Omar screamed, ‘HEY! It was too late. The car struck the center divider and spun back into the flow of traffic. An oncoming car hit my door. That car was also hit by another vehicle. We finally came to a halt somewhere in the middle of the freeway, a hundred yards from the spot of the collision. I didn’t feel any pain. I was just dizzy, I heard Omar and Malik moaning as good civilians tried pulling us from the wreck.
I wasn’t rescued until the fire fighters arrived. It was quite a task recovering my battered body from my totaled car. Breathing became difficult. The fire fighters huddled around me and frantically applied device after device. ‘He’s not gonna make it,’ I heard one of them say. I ‘m not gonna make it? How? I didn’t feel like I was dying. I felt nothing. My heart started pounding. I was soaked in sweat and blood. I saw Malik standing over the top of me with tears in his eyes. ‘Don’t quit on me’, he told me. At that time I knew it was over. I started to cry. The fire fighters moved him away as they made last attempts to revive me. I died. An angel came to me and removed my soul. I watched him fly away with it in disbelief. ‘How could you? I’m not even 27,’ I pleaded. ‘It’s time,’ he told me and
left. Two minutes later they pulled a white sheet over me. Omar and Malik, apparently doing better than me, pulled the sheet back to look at me one last time. They cried their eyeballs out, I had known then over since I was 13 years old and had never seen either one cry. It was a depressing sight.
The ride to the morgue, until then, was the worst experience I ever had. I was alone. It was dark and cold. I missed my mom. I missed my brother. I missed my sister. I wished I had spent that last night with my family instead of with Omar and Malik. I worried what my mother was going to do when she saw me in this state. I was ugly. When we finally arrived, I was placed in another cold room with dozens of other dead people. I missed my family so much. Every so often a family came in to view their dead. I always thought it was my family but it wasn’t. Hour after hour passed. No mom. No dad. I started to cry again. Then one odd hour I recognised voices. My father walked in with my mother in his arms. His face worn from stress. Hers wet with tears. They just stared into my eyes and cried. I stared back.
I wanted to tell them I loved them. I couldn’t. I wanted to hug them. I couldn’t. Mom stroked my bloodied hair and left.
I was to be buried the next day. When my parents left, it hit me. I never made Isha! My heart jumped out of my chest. I owed Allah a salah and failed to deliver it to him. I had hundreds of missed salahs over the past two years. Now I was about to face him. I felt powerless. For those of you who have never experienced guilt at death, there is not a worldly feeling that amounts to it. It is guilt and sorrow at another level. I tried getting up to make Isha but I couldn’t move. It was over. I had no second chance.
Then I began to think back. I never knew my memory was so good. I had more than enough time to ponder as I was awaiting my burial. I literally remembered every single salah I missed and the reasons why I missed them. Most were laziness, procrastination and neglectfulness. I knew I was in trouble. I wished they would take longer to bury me.

I failed! I failed! I failed!

My girlfriend paid me a visit. She was a devil. When I was alive I saw her as a pretty angel. My pretty angel who loved me and would do anything to make me happy. If I had the ability, I would have cursed her and demanded her to leave the morgue. She put her hand on my forehead. I allowed her to do that for that past four years. Now that I opposed to it, I could do nothing about it. The devil cried for hours at my side. She just would not leave. I felt cheated. I felt like she pulled a prank on me for the past couple years of my life. I hated this devil! She was ugly! She smelled horrible! She finally left. As she walked out the door my heart was filled with fear and anxiety.
The funeral was simple. My body was washed. I didn’t seem to care that my naked body was exposed. My worries far surpassed my desire to be modest. I was wrapped in three white sheets. About 300 people attended my funeral. I was saddened not to see my mom at the funeral. I wished she came to see me one last time before they put me in the
ground. I never knew so many people cared about me. Many just stared at the tightly wrapped figure in disbelief. Others cried and cried some more.
The mass prayed for me. Thousands of individual prayers were made. They asked Allah to have mercy on me. They asked him to forgive me. I wanted to pray for myself but I couldn’t speak. I was helpless. I was carried to the hole in the middle of the barren desert. The people followed. It seemed like slow motion. I didn’t want to go. If I had 24 bonus hours I would pray non-stop. They lowered me into the ground. The anticipation was eating away at me. I had surely failed life. I thought back on everything I had worked so hard to accomplish. I earned a college degree. I had a well paying job. I spent hours and hours in the weight room ever since I was 16 years old
developing my body. I had a pretty girlfriend who loved me. In that life, that was a badge of honor. But as they were lowering me into this grave, which seemed like it took forever, I realized that I couldn’t use any of those ‘accomplishments’. If only I had been that dedicated to making salah five times daily, I would have been at peace
right now. Instead I am a nervous wreck beyond anything you all can comprehend.
Dirt fell in the hole. Darkness overcame my new home. The last shovels of sand filled the grave. Everyone sadly walked away. The graveyard started to empty. Family by family. Mine was the last to leave. The attendant left. By nightfall it was just me. All alone. My wrapping was soaked in sweat. I nervously awaited the angels to come and question me. They finally did. My final judgement has not been reached yet. I am now waiting for judgement day.

Still lying here, alone, as day comes and night falls. Soon I will meet Allah himself and He will decide weather He will forgive me or not. I can only lay here, wait and hope The All Forgiving, The Most Merciful forgives me and does not punish me.

I hope.

That is all I have right now.

Hope.

Narrow Escape ??? – Better said – Another Chance By Y.Yilmaz

Since my childhood, I have been afraid of small, confined spaces and furiously fled such places. Later, I understood that this condition was known as claustrophobia, but I have never been able to master it.

Now, unwillingly, I had to enter a closed narrow space. I was wrapped in a shroud and lying in a long coffin. I could hear the voice of the people around me quite well. And although my eyes were closed, I could see them clearly.

“He died so young,” they said and added, “He had so many things to do.”

It was true that I had left a great deal of work half done; I had not set up
a good business for my son, completed the payment of the instalment of the
car and TV. Winter was around the corner, but I had not prepared the leaking
roof or bought the fuel. Now the dream to establish a big firm and employ my
friends had dispersed to nothing.

Suddenly, I was irritated by a noise that, as if coming through a
microphone, echoed in every remote cell of my brain:

“It is all over!”

I wished it had not been all over, I did not know why the accident happened.
I was a good driver.

As I was trying to recall the events that had taken place, I realized that
my friends surrounding the coffin were covering it by putting the lid over
me. No matter how much I wanted to shout, I could neither move nor speak. I
was in complete darkness and turned my eyes towards the light coming from
the gaps in the coffin.

I said to myself in horror, “Oh my God! What am I going to do now?”

Seized with fear, I could think of nothing. Later, I was lifted onto their
shoulders as they began to carry the coffin. Hearing the noise coming from
outside, I understood that it was raining. The noise of the raindrops
mingled with the creaking of the coffin. We must have gone to the mosque for
the funeral prayer.

I remembered that although the mosque was so close to my home, I had never
paid it a visit. I had planned to start prayers after the age of fifty and I
would quit the bad habits everyone complained about. If the accident had not
occurred, I would have been a good fellow.

The voice that I heard before repeated, “It is all over!” A little later my
funeral prayer was completed. The imam was asking people’s opinion as to
“what kind of character I was.” I knew that among them were some eight or
ten persons who did not give an opinion. I accepted that I had given them
some evil and harm, but if the accident had not occurred, I would have been
pleased to make amends and duly compensate them for the equivalent of any
harm done. After the prayer in the mosque was completed, I was lifted onto
the shoulders again.

Due to the inclination of the coffin, I understood that we were on the road
uphill to the grave. I was aware that it was pouring rain and the rain was
seeping through the cracks in the coffin onto the shroud, making it damp.
Nevertheless, I tried to listen to the conversations coming from outside.
Some of my friends were talking about the stagnation of the market, some
were commentating on a Western film they had seen the previous evening on
the TV. Another, carrying my coffin whispered, “What a bad day the deceased
chose to die, we have got wet through and through.”

I could not believe what I heard and I thought that I must have
misunderstood. Were they not the ones for whom I had sacrificed my wealth
and my health?

A little later my journey finished and my coffin was put down on the ground.
The lid was removed again. The arms holding my weak and lifeless flesh put
it into the hole where a little water had collected. Lying on the ground, I
looked around:

“Oh my God, was it a grave?” I did not know why I had not thought until then
that I would be buried in a grave. No one heard my silent cries, and my best
friends seemed to be competing each other to cover my body with thick
boards.

I was in complete darkness once more. I began to pray with all my cells, “Oh
my Merciful God,” I said, “Is there another chance to be a real servant of
Yours?”

The same voice repeated, “It is all over, everything has finished.”

I was shaken by the noise of the earth.

With a final effort to get up, I opened my eyes. I was lying on my
comfortable bed and it had all been a nightmare. One of my neighbours, a
doctor, was standing at the bedside.

“It is all over,” he repeated. “You are all right.”

I sat up slowly from the bed. I was dripping with perspiration, feeling I
had lost twenty kilos in weight. It was raining heavily outside and the
whole house was shaken by thunder.

While I was trying to recover myself in front of the bewildered eyes of the
others, I whispered, “Oh my Lord, a thousand thanks to You. What would I do
if You had not given me another chance to be an obedient servant of Yours?

Remember death.

But our lives are such that we become so occupied with the things of this
life that we forget that we are going to die. As Allah said, the gathering
of wealth has deluded man from the realities of life and they only wake up
when they end up in their graves.

At-Takathur 102: “The mutual rivalry for piling up (the good things of this
world) diverts you (from the more serious things), until ye visit the
graves. But nay, ye soon shall know the reality.”

This is a fearful statement, that if we live lives unconscious of our deaths
and thereby be lost in trivialities, these are things that are really
ultimately not going to benefit us in the next life.

And what happens on the Day of Judgement, when we stand before Allah and
answer for each and every deed that we have done, when nothing escapes
Allah, when the things that we have in this life will be of no benefit to
us. The only thing that will benefit us is to stand before Allah with a
pious and healthy heart.

‘When we die, we leave behind all that we have and take with us all that we
are.’

MAY ALLAH GUIDE US ALL ON TO THE STRAIGHT PATH.

The first of many I hope, UmmahFilms continues to impress. They’ve been working on this short film for quite some time, with a tight budget and inexperienced crew, they pulled it off and did a superb job!

Click here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8J5Soaq8V3I if the video below does not load
[wp_youtube]8J5Soaq8V3I[wp_youtube]