Cocoon of life

And there I sat, in the cocoon of life, drenched in my own reverie. How cold it was, the breeze, piercing through my bare face. I sat there for three whole days, eating only wild berries and edible leaves. I had to relive every bit of my memory, through the sheer capability of recalling. Recollecting every piece of your life is a pretty gruesome task, at least for those who hold remorse for their actions. Nonetheless, most of the important memories are just going to skip for indeed man is forgetful. I froze. I remembered what Imam al-Shafi said about a verse in Quran that every sinner should be terrified of; a verse from Surah Maryam... ‘And your Lord never forgets.’ The verse hit me like a wave. I began to weep heedlessly. I did not have enough water left in my body and I could feel my tear glands exhausting themselves in the production of tears endlessly. I picked up the empty coconut shell and placed it beneath the plant so as to collect the morning dew. I was losing track of time. It must have been 5 in the morning. The sky was dark but I could spot the faint breaking of the horizon. I don’t want to go all the way down now in search of food, now that I reached so close to my Lord. This is the best I could ascend. I had run out of strength to move and my gut grumbled in hunger. I put my forehead on the ground in prostration again and carried on with chanting of astaghfirullah, an invocation for forgiveness.

I remember when I was 12, I came across a man who laughed like he had no unease in his life. His words would always pour out of wisdom and his actions would always seem like a way of elegance. A righteous man was he; less did I comprehend the meaning of righteousness at that age, but I referred to him as Maulana, meaning a teacher. He used to tell me stories of people who did good in their whole lifetime and found happiness in being benevolent and helpful. This attribute had inscribed in him for long and one fine day he seized an opportunity to help an injured man lying down on a secluded path. The Maulana bent down to help the man sit up. Next, he knew the man had stabbed him in the chest and robbed him of entirely leaving just a pair of inner-wears. The Maulana succumbed to his wound in no time at the expense of aiding someone. That was the first death of a man I knew. Many people left this world in front of my eyes since then but never did I ponder on how brittle a life is. All it takes is that one moment where you can’t escape death. It never struck me that one day it’s going to be ‘me’ just like the Maulana, be it sudden or be it prolonged.

I contemplated on this memory for a while before rising back from prostration. My back ached. How it all began? I thought... the process of sinning. When was the first vivid memory of a sin that I could remember? Was it on my way back from school when a fellow mate showed me an obscene photograph? Maybe not... I didn’t know it was a sin, though I soon learned that it was a form of Zina, a grave sin. And yet, I continued the sin without caring enough. I jumped to the next vivid sin. Yes, I remember. I bullied someone so bad, not because he was dimwitted but because it made me look cool as I broke his specs. I was applauded by my friends. I still remember the next day he arrived at school with his both arms swollen red. I asked how it happened and he replied guilelessly that his father hit him with a spiked rod because the spectacle broke. Next sin... I feel too ashamed to think of it. Next sin... even further ashamed. Next... another... another... an endless chain of sins... My whimpers would have echoed had it not been vanquished by the cold breeze. How did I reach here? I asked myself. In the literal sense, how did I end up at the peak of a mountain top where no humans lived? The sins that I have accumulated have overflowed the lands of this earth and now I seek refuge in mountains away from sin prone world where every sight of worldly matter leads me to sin. How I have enraged my Lord and how will I face him on the day of reckoning when he will ask me to read my own deeds out of my book? He will say to me ‘Did I not warn you about an imminent retribution?’

I opened my eyes and realized that I had dropped unconscious for a while until the noon heat grew on me. I crawled my way to a shelter under a partially withered tree. The tree was in close proximity to the edge of the mountain. And for once in four days I marveled at the exquisite creation of the almighty as I looked down upon the forested valley. I spoke through parched lips, ‘My Lord, I will not leave this place until you forgive me for my sins. And you will not hold me responsible if I die out of hunger for we have a deal in place. Nevertheless, I have no interest in the world underneath which takes me away from you.’ I made tayammum with the help of sand and prayed in a reclining position with my back against the bark of a tree. I prayed Fajr and Zuhur in succession and my heart sprouted with tranquility. But I had to ask for forgiveness for each and every sin that I remembered so I went back to the next major sin. I could not even cry anymore but the remorse in my heart shook the land beneath me. I wished I had a chance to perform Hajj for Hajj has no reward but Paradise as mentioned in Sahih Bukhari. It would wash away all my sins... if only I could have done it when I had the chance, the money, the health... How I wasted it all in ignorance. ‘My Lord, will you not forgive me today? Please don’t turn your back on me now. I have no one but you to turn to... when my people have left me... when the angels hate me and the shayateen misguide me, who will I turn to except you? Did you not promise in Surah Bakarah that you will remember me if I remember you? Did you not promise to forgive all sins in Surah Zumur? Will you not FORGIVE ME TODAY? NOW THAT YOUR SERVANT CALLS UPON YOU?’

Less did I realize that I was almost crying out loud in agony. I didn’t know where the strength to blurt came from, but it was the last reserve of energy I had. I felt losing the faculty of rationality at this point. My body began to tingle all over and I felt a burning sensation throughout. Suddenly I realized that my time was up and I silently kept on repeating, ‘Will you not forgive me?’ Though the pain was unparalleled, I felt rather content to die in what I considered a cocoon. A cocoon envelopes the body with a protective layer and this mountain catered to my needs of protection from sin; this mountain that my Lord had designed for me. As I felt darkness grow around me, I indistinctly felt something wrapping around me and I heard someone say, ‘He forgives you'.