“He died so young,” they said and added, “He had so many things to do.”
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?”
|Although the mosque was so close to my home, I had never paid it a visit.|
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?
|“…was it a grave?” I did not know why I had not thought until then that I’d be buried in a grave.’’|
“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 neighbors, 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 to You?”
ReferencesTaken with slight modifications from : www.fountainmagazine.com
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