the short story of life
Ever read a tombstone?
To what end this life? The breaths we take? The carbon dioxide we return to the atmosphere? And some more CO2 through our other activities?
Har saans yeh kehti hai, Hum hain, to Khuda bhi hai.
Khaak shudam
I have become dust.
How short is life? To what end?
Many Muslims believe life to be a liability. A stop gap between two lives - a belief that we were all souls, made by the Creator, and then sent into a state of suspended animation, until the soul is merged with the body in the mother (never father!), for a short life on Earth, and eventual death, and resurrection on the Day of Judgement and eternal life in Heaven/Hell. There is so much accountability. Time is a gift. The ability to use time is a liability.
It is said, wise men cry more, laugh little. They feel the pain humans inflict upon one another in this life, and the Trials that are a part of this existence. You know my heart aches as a type this? To think of all the pain that mankind gives to itself. A veritable suicide mission.
((Anyways))
The Producer switches off the mic and walks into the recording room. He gently places a pillow under the head of the Guest who has fallen asleep while listening to the blabbering Old Man, PPD. PPD, oblivious to the somnolence of his Guest, goes on speaking into the mic, as if addressing a congregation of a million who have him in rapturous attention. If only he knew.
((Anyways))