Seven days ago, our sick hearts were fed the spiritual diet that strengthened them in the remembrance of their creator. Thanks to our Imam who, today, again, entered the Masjid in the appalled appearance of a shrouded corpse: white Jalabia, white turban, and white cap, revived our dying hearts. And by virtue of his dress, we already knew the topic of the sermon. Then he began:
Death shouldn't be a surprise any longer. He's the forsaken reality that we shall all witness. He's the unannounced visitor that we can't resist. The pathetic part of his pitiless character is how he's age-inconsiderate. To him, the moment you had your first breath was the time you were old enough to die. Every day, he awaits the definite order to take your soul while he irreversibly takes other souls around you. Bribe him if you can, he'd definitely take your soul too. Run away if you can, he'd undoubtedly catch you. Subhana rabbika!
Silence occupied the mosque as if death would take our souls immediately. As if we were already lying in our graves. A minute after tasleem, we deleted death from our remembrance list.
— P-7 ||,
LASU chapter.
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