on the Day of Judgement

This Sunday, after the weekly shopping, I went to see my sister. She asks about me and the family. B-i-L is watching the final one day test between Pakistan and India. I come back, and try the net. Bad Gateway, it says.

No problem. The wife is in the kitchen. The children are working on their computers. I have given up reading. The computer's CD drive has problems, so I cannot listen to the Quran on this. I need to upgrade this.

So, I relax. There is a continual sound of some repair plus extention work going on in the neighboring house. Has been so for as long as the neighbors started their house, about 14 years ago. There are sounds like that from our top floor as well, where the carpenters and the painters are at work. I have landed a bad bargain. Should have left these things cool for a time. Now I have agreed to a painters' rate that is excessive, and that excludes work on the doors and the windows.

Not this-worldly, did I not say that about myself.

never mind. Something will turn up.

As I look out the window, I have this fascinating feeling of a serene emptiness. There is greenery everywhere. The area behind my house looks deserted, but that is deceptive. There are people working, and the houses, too are occupied.

I love quietness, I love being alone with my thoughts. There should just be someone to answer my questions as they arise, to cater to my needs.

My thoughts turn to the Day of Judgement.

What I have wanted most of all is that I shouldn't have to answer for my life here, but that privilege will be granted to only a select few. What have I ever done to deserve being let off this lightly?

Wanting is not enough, there should be action with the right intention to support these desires.

So I can imagine, on the Day, my name being called out:

"timbuktu"

I stand there, in the crowd, perspiration upto Neck? lips? ears? forehead? or above - Allah (SubHana Wa Ta`ala) only knows? High up enough, I guess. Standing in that heat is sufficiently unbearabe, yet I shiver. I know what is coming. I don't want to face it. I wish I hadn't been alive ever. I wish the Earth would open up and swallow me.

Yet this is not the time or place for wishes to be granted.

"TIMBUKTU!"

The voice is loud and clear. No one can miss hearing it. Everyone is looking at where I stand. Two ferrocious looking angels move towards me. They carry fiery cattle prods.

There is fear inside me, but my legs now start moving, out in the open, where everyone can see me.

I wish again. I whisper: "O Allah! spare me this". Tears roll down my cheeks.

"No one will be wronged today. Justice will be done", comes a voice.

But I don't want justice. I want Allah's Mercy. Justice will doom me, I know.

Then the questioning begins:

"Did We not make you a human being - ashraful makhlooqaat, the highest among all creation?", Allah will ask.

"Yes, my Lord", I will say in a small voice.

"Did We not give you loving parents who looked after you?", the questioning will continue.

"Yes, my Lord"

"Did we not provide food for you when you were hungry, drinks when you were thirsty, shelter from the exceses of nature, medical care when you needed it, friends to enjoy life with, siblings and relatives who put up with you, and showered you with gifts, a wife and children, education, a life of comfort ...?", the recount will go on.

"Yes, my Lord. This, and more ...", I will say trembling.

"So, how did you spend your youth?"

I want to say: "in obeying you", but my tongue will blurt out: "in the pursuit of pleasure, my Lord".

"Stupid tongue", I think, "doesn't know when to keep quiet".

"Where did you earn your money from, and what did you spend it on?"

"through haram, and on haram", my tongue is bent upon destroying me.

The questioning will go on:

"Did you know the difference between haram and halal?
Did you try to learn what you did not know?
Did you try to guide those you were responsible for to the right path?
Did you practice what you preached?"

"I came to you hungry, and you did not feed me;
I came to you thirsty, and you did not give me a drink to quench my thirst;
I came to you needing clothes, and you had plenty in your wardrobe, which you did not even use, yet you did not give away what you had no need of."

And, I know Allah (SubHana Wa Ta`ala) does not need these things. He is referring to the times when people in need came to me, and I waved them away.

"I put you in a position of responsibility over others. Did you look after their needs, or did you exploit them? Did you cater to the spiritual needs of your wards, or did you turn their direction to the enjoyment of this world, away from answerability?"

And again I know what Allah is referring to.

Alas, it is too late. True answers will incriminate me. But even if my tongue were to side with me, even if it were to keep quiet, the loads of registers with my deeds are there to prove I am guilty.

Oh, to be spared this. If there were some way to repent, some way to bypass this exposure, and to join those who will enter Paradise without being questioned!

innal insaana lafee khusr
veriy, mankind is doomed

illal ladheena aamanu
except those who believe

wa amilus sualihaati
and do good deeds

wa tawassau bil Haqe
and preach the Truth

wa tawasau bis sabr.
and encourage each other in patience

outside, as I continue to look through the window, quiet reigns. The house is quiet, too. There is only the humming sound through my faulty hearing that is audible. It is peaceful, but will this peace be in my heart on the Day?

How can I ensure this peace? How can I ensure being in the shadow of Allah's throne on that day?

I wish I didn't have much to do with this world. I wish I could divorce this world. I wish I were surrounded by pious people, who recite the Quran, and explain it to me, and do dhikr, and whatever they do is halal, so they are away from haram; people with whom I have no chance of going astray; people who will go to Heaven without questionig, and with whom I can go too.