And Herein Lies This Woman Who...
Oh I'm not talking about my parents, or siblings- people connected by blood who are genetically wired to feel grief on such occasion. I'm talking about other people. Who'll come to my funeral thinking, hey you know this lady, she was really something! When she was alive, she taught me something, she gave me hope, I looked up to her, she was good person. The truth is, I don't know. I know my beautiful children will probably not be there. No one will be there saying, my mother is dead. And so as I reflect deeply on such matters, that my life can't just end in a poof, like the rabbit in a magician's hat, I ponder over what I will leave behind in my wake by way of legacy.
Nothing worldly matters once you've enter the great unknown, I know this, I mean what will I care when I'm headed to meet my Maker; except the deeds I take with me. Not my money, not my kids, nothing except my bare soul. Except maybe, if I'm really lucky, if I'm destined to be blessed enough, the prayers of someone I've touched. Again, I'm not talking about the prayers of my loved ones, they'll pray for me regardless (that is the hope), but the sincere prayers of strangers, people from whose core a silent whisper may escape into the air saying, "Oh Allah, for what she did for me, give her respite, forgive her, may her transcendence be full of bliss."
So I put forward a little letter to the world:
Dear Reader,
Be kind in this world. I have seen bitterness, and I have seen how bitterness changes a person. It makes a person doubt the existence of humanity in the hearts of human beings. It prevents one from giving anybody the benefit of the doubt. Don't let the tenderness within you be snatched away, for that would be an irrevocable loss, very difficult if not impossible to retrieve.
Let yourself be a symbol of goodness and all that is pure in this crazy yet sensible, ugly yet beautiful, wretched yet joyous, miserly yet bounteous, hateful yet lovely world. Don't let these bricks that you have to defend yourself from, let your armor of courage become so thick and indestructible that in the war against injustice and self perseverance, you forget what a gentle word of encouragement feels like, that while you are pruning the thorns, you forget to smell the fragrance of the rose that yields them, that while you hold on perilously to that last rung of wood in the rough seas, you lose sight of the horizon just yonder. That horizon is so worth holding on for.
There is no pleasing the world, a quote I am sure every one has said multiple times. In fact, for my Urdu reading friends I'd like to put forward:
Loosely translated:
There will always be people in this world,
For whom even if you give your life,
They'll still say this,
Man, he didn't even die properly.
This is reality, but I chuckle each time I read it. It's empowering, it's inspiring and it's completely true. A little harsh? Maybe. Probably. But the truth nonetheless. Such being how it is, you are responsible for your own happiness, it does not rest in pleasing the world.
What will be my legacy then? How deep a footprint will I leave behind? Who then, will I pass on my message of peace, kindness and most of all justice to? I don't know, but this I do; as I lie in my grave, giving accountability to my Lord, oblivious to what is happening in the living world, if even a single human being might say this about me on my grave site, "And herein lies this woman,.. she touched lives, she tried to make a difference, she upheld the truth and persevered," if I am fated to lay acclaim to this one little blessing, I will have left my legacy behind triumphantly.
So just do good, everywhere around you, whatever you can. It's okay to go out of the way and help someone. Maybe they'll misunderstand, may they won't get it. Just move on to the next good deed. Don't ever underestimate teeny tiny acts of random goodness. They will pay off one way or another, sooner or later, not to please anyone, but to leave footprints behind. That's what I'm going for, and I will strive to achieve it as far as I am able. The rest, as they say, is and will be destiny.
The question is, what will your legacy be?
When my uncle died a few years ago, several of the police officers who had spent a good part of their careers arresting my uncle came to pay their respects.
ReplyDeleteSpeaks to his character.
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