As Ramadan nears its end, I begin to reflect on how quickly it flew by.
I was reading Quran one night, my eyes were slowly going through the rich arabic words, trying to decipher every meaning and visualise every verse. Fighting to clear my clustered heart with the serenity of Allah’s word. Nearing the end of the surah, I was already tired from the extra effort of racing between the translation and the arabic verses in attempt to fully understand what I was reading. Finally having reached the last verse, I was hooked again.
كَأَنَّہُمۡ يَوۡمَ يَرَوۡنَہَا لَمۡ يَلۡبَثُوٓاْ إِلَّا عَشِيَّةً أَوۡ ضُحَٮٰهَا
It will be, on the Day they see it [the day of judgement], as though they had not remained [in the world] except for an afternoon or a morning thereof. (Surah Al Naziat, Verse 46)
There is nothing in this life more certain than death. And after the reality of death, is the reality of the grave. And after that, the day of judgement. Ironically enough, we tend to live our lives as though we are not walking closer to our grave with every step we take. We place our certainty in all else other than the day we are destined to face our Lord with our book of deeds. We seek eternity in a very temporary home.
That verse sunk into my heart painfully. If I were to paint a canvas of my life as one afternoon or one morning, what would it look like? Would I be proud to show it to Allah s.w.t, or would I be ashamed?
Nothing in this world is worthy of us delaying any form of worship. Time slips through our fingers like running water no matter how much we try to clench our fists and hold onto it. Whatever occupies our time now, and that does not add to our canvas, that does not build our heaven, we need to drop it. Whatever we have been delaying, thinking that we have time, we need to embrace it.