As I walked in, my eyes were blinded by the black blush everywhere. I could see only black walls, black stains and people dressed in black. All I could hear was the sound of women crying. I knew they were sounds of anguish, sounds of women in pain and grief. I could hear the sound of a daughter crying for her mother. While I looked around, I saw tears in the eyes of those women. Even the tears seemed to be black, those tears were rolling down the cheeks of the women like a black river.
Why did everything appear so black? Why did that day seem so dark? Was it a massacre?
At that moment, I began to weep with the women; I began to feel their soreness, if I could no longer handle all the pain that I felt, then how could they? I couldn’t tell.
Everything sounded gloomy.
Until, looking up, I saw a white wall. Amid all the black, the white was so pure, so guiltless and hopeful like never before.
Where I was standing, I was among a group of women in a funeral. Yes, a few weeks ago, the mother of one of my friends passed away. When I walked further inside the room and I sat beside my friend, she immediately enfolded me securely and spoke softly a few words about mothers that I know I will never forget for the rest of life.
As she was whispering in my ear, I began to feel life, feel people I care about around me and thoughts crossed my mind. What do you take back with you the day that you leave to the other world? Nothing really…
Just a few minutes before the funeral, in the car, I was thinking how meaningless and trivial this life can be. I was telling myself how lucky are those who die early.
Except that, being in the funeral and living the moments there, I apprehended that, apart from how small life can be, there is something promising beyond and maybe, just maybe, it’s a bright side of life.
It’s for the fact that, whatever you do, despite how far you might reach, it may all end in a blink of an eye. Nothing lasts in this world; we all go back to the other world, where there is no pain, no war, no jealousy over each other’s possessions, or wrecked lives. We go back to start a lasting journey, just us and God.
Yet, as you are still here, what do you want to do?
Years will pass, people will not remember how you looked, people will not recall your voice, but they will not forget what you did and said. As you wake up in the morning and you go back to sleep at night, what do you want to accomplish in between? Will you live the life you have imagined for yourself, or will you live a life designed by others for you? Will you go after your dreams? Or will you spend an extra hour in the morning sleeping?
Do you want to be remembered for the good deeds you have done for the world? Do you want to die, smiling to the world and actually telling yourself:” Yes, I have lived a life of purpose, yes, I am a person of significance”?
What if you were breathing out in your final days? What if a voice from the sky told you today will be your last day? Will you not step away from the crowd and stand up on your own to make your voice heard? Will you still not do a favor to yourself and the world?
Today might be your last chance, save it.
This piece was published in Kurdistan Tribune, February 19, 2012.