A Note To Remembrance — An Exercise
What if your life ends today? How would you be remembered tomorrow? Can such a riveting exercise truly change one’s life?
Introduction
An entire world resides within the confines of my head, one created by sole pondering, and expanded upon by vivid thoughts. And often, my wonderings of such lead me towards a thing of practicality in our own world, a thing that we could perform to gain intimate knowledge of ourselves and those who surround us, leading to discover something entirely unknown before.
Just so, in my recent wonderings, I came across a form of exercise, a task to perform which fascinated me quite immensely. Its concept was rather simple to grasp yet proved incredibly difficult to implement. The exercise is as follows:
Imagine yourself, living and breathing as of now, to be dead all of a sudden, taken away unfortunately from this world. Your life has ended and now you, from the perspective of your loved one, have to write a note in remembrance of the life you led. The person you choose could be anyone, a member of your family, a good friend or your partner, anyone whom you would wish could write this note upon your death. From the eyes of your loved one; script down a note to your own remembrance.
The moment I realized this concept, I was stricken with the sheer curiousness of its implementation. I had to perform it; I had to know what it could do and where it would lead me. Thus, I decided to perform this task undoubtedly, somewhat hesitating yet driven.
Through some trouble at first, I ultimately imagined my demise, accepted my death and changed my perspective toward the first person who had ever loved me and still does more than anything in the entire world, my mother.
What would she go through?
I asked myself.
How could she even process such a thing?
I began jostling countless questions in my head, beginning to find answers to some, somehow ending up writing the note to my own remembrance from the eyes of my mother.
You may ask,
What is the purpose of such an elaborate exercise?
Why is it ever needed?
Well, I wondered the same until I wrote it all and noticed its dire effects upon me. And by sharing my note with you, I believe I can transcend that effect to my fellow readers as well.
So, here it goes.
A Note To Remembrance
Hello, Haroon.
Assalamu alaikum (May peace be upon you)
I just don’t know where to begin, son…
It is hard, very hard to say something, anything without having to remember you in turn. Maybe that is the reason why I haven’t spoken until now.
I was afraid, son. I am afraid that when I finally begin speaking, it would all inevitably become true.
Oh, I so wish it to not be true!
But it is… every single second of it. Son, I am utterly scared of accepting that you are gone, why wouldn’t I be?
I cry in bits, small moments of weakness find me, and I weep uncontrollably. Then at the next minute, I tend to feel better. Maybe it’s because I finally let out in tears, or maybe because I inch ever closer to accepting your permanent absence.
It is hard, son, very hard to say something, anything without having to remember you in turn. But I will, son. I have to. I have so much to say to you! But now it all feels stupid.
I feel incredibly stupid to have let you go!
If you think about it; you get married, you start a family, have children, maybe two or three, and then the entire world turns upside down. You do not seem to matter anymore; all that matters is your children. They should be well off, their clothes should be well worn, yours may be torn and old but, does it matter? No. You don’t care as much about yourself, your success is consolation while their success is the real prize. Your sleep, your dreams, your whole life does not seem to matter as much as your children’s. They should be fine, you sacrifice everything but they should be fine.
You carry them in your belly for months; in your arms for years and in your heart for your whole life! You raise them with the best of your entire ability, your bleeding body you give to them. And then you watch them leave to achieve greater things, things that you could have never dreamt of achieving in your time, but you send them to achieve so you can be proud, ultimately proud!
And this is where, son, I feel incredibly stupid. I should have never let you go! I should have held you in my arms, tight, very tight, and maybe then I could have saved you. Maybe you would still be here.
Well, a would-have or a could-have, it hardly matters anymore. What’s done is done; my words would not change anything.
Oh, I wish it could only!
I could give my life for yours in a heartbeat. If I could save you, even if I had to grab the entire world in my palms for it, I would. But then, a would-have or a could-have, it hardly matters anymore.
In the end, all you could ever do is either find peace or anger with whatever life throws at you. And even if I cannot find peace now, I would eventually have to, son. I hardly have an option. I have always been the kind of person who would find a single thread of positivity in an entire urn of negativity and clench to it. I have to think positively, son. You know exactly the kind of person I am. You know everything.
There is always some Behtari (Goodwill) in whatever happens. I have always believed that and I cannot defer from it now. However hard it is to accept, there has to be some Behtari in this. “Your time here was over because you were needed elsewhere”, that is what I repeat to myself. I don’t care if it’s true but I will believe it till the day I die, son. I will believe it! I have to.
I know that even when you are not here, you certainly are here, son. I can feel it, from mother to son; I know that you are here. You are here…
I just hope that you hear me when I say that I am so incredibly proud of you! And I wish you weren’t taken away from me. I hope you are not scared or frightened but smiling and happy wherever you are. You will always… always be in my heart.
It is still hard, very hard to say something, anything without having to remember you in turn, son. But I will not cry anymore, I will smile knowing that you were once here, once alive and breathing, my very own child you were. I can be nothing more than grateful for it!
I hope you take care, son, wherever you are. And do not forget to have proper meals (I know you have been eating less nowadays!)
Whenever you feel scared or afraid, just remember me, son. And I will surely be remembering you, in my thoughts and prayers, always, eternally.
Allah hafiz! (May Allah protect you)
Take care,
Your Mother
The Revelation
Well…
For a mere fictional note, it was one of the hardest things that I ever had to write. Even when the fact of my death was not true, each strand of my emotion was, every bit of my mother’s emotion was. Through her eyes, I felt like crying my own eyes out knowing that my son is no longer alive and breathing in my arms.
And that is the beauty I found in this exercise.
It all made me question the most fundamental of things about my life and the life of those who surround me, who love me dearly, and the things they might go through if they lost me. In this particular case, it made me question my mother’s thoughts, made me visualize her emotions, her reactions, and her incredible love for me!
It all jostled me to wonder that if I ever had the chance of saving my life, if at some point I am withering away, hurting myself, destroying my life with my own bare hands, if I had the choice of my death, I would choose life over and over again, and not solely because of me, but because of the people who love me dearly.
This particular realization is why I find this exercise so utterly powerful. It is riveting to think of your own death and its effects on your loved ones, but more than necessary to realize what your life costs. And from my own observations, I find this realization missing from many lives today.
We need to know that just like our lives are not just our own, our death cannot be our own as well.
When we live, we let others love us, but when we die, their love will also die with us. A part of people who adore you is taken away from them, a part containing our living and breathing selves dies within them. Because with only our memories left existing, that is the manner of death. And this sole realization is what we should take away from this exercise.
So, with my full power, I would suggest each of my readers take part in this task and if possible; write it all down in form of a note as I have. And those who find it hesitant and uncomfortable to script their own thoughts can just perform this exercise inside the vast confines of their vivid minds. Use the greatest superpower you possess, the power of thought, the power of imagination, and think from the perspective of your loved ones, the people who hold you most dear.
If I die…
What would they go through?
But knowing the brilliance in the act of writing, I would strongly suggest performing this task in a form of writing as mere thoughts, though powerful, could wither and fade with time but what is written in script stays forever, it gawks back at you from the moment you write it. And your own speech, your own thoughts ogling right at you could be just the thing your mind may truly need.
Now, all I can do at this point is sincerely hope that my readers take part in this exercise. Write a Note to Remembrance of your death from the eyes of your loved one, and maybe then it could lead us all to discover something entirely unappreciated before;
The value of our own life.
Stay safe,
And take care!
Thank you so much for reading!
I hope this unique post instills grave thought among my readers and makes one realize the life-altering philosophies that seldom hide under the most mundane of things within our daily lives.
I wish you all to stay safe and have a great life ahead. Please leave your claps and thoughts in the comments below. I would really appreciate it!
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