It Was Me....................

At the funeral, I saw many people, some were just mingling around, some were getting acquainted, some were deep in supplication, some were just looking and very few were attending to the dead body. It was a moment like this that you start putting names to faces, and yet you can’t get them all right.

Once the body was shrouded, it was brought to the main hall of the house for prayers. I keep telling them to hasten things up, for we do not want to keep the dead body of a Muslim for more than 8 hours after the demise. I also reminded them to be gentle at all time.

The beautifully shrouded body was finally put into the hearse and onward to the graveyard. Cars started to line up in preparation to get moving, I took a final last look at the house, the family, the friends, and not forgetting the enemies, who had all come to grace the dead.

At the grave, I watched as the body was lowered to the ground, I can only whisper to the people involved with the burial to be extra careful, and to make sure that the body and face is placed according to our belief. Everything went well as instructed, the grave was covered and people marched away home bound, but I was still there, in fact I am there, I was dead, it was me, yet I was the one organizing my funeral.

Can’t remember what time it was when I woke up, but it was still dark, hubby was still snoring, the area where my angels were sleeping is still very quiet, where am I?

I realized that it was just a dream; I stay in the darkness and offer my supplication to the Lord, our creator.