Afterlife – A possibility, perhaps?

by Owaiz

TDP

They found a note on the dead body.

The Suicide Note

“Words fail me as I write this. No language is capable of even providing a hint at what I’ve been through and what I feel. I waited for God to make it up to me, and waited, and waited…till I lost faith. Losing faith was the best thing that ever happened to me; it motivated me. I tried, because I knew I could do it. I tried and tried and wore myself out, but nothing happened. I…I can’t sum it up. I wanted so much more. I wanted to be more, to have more. But even the time is not on my side; I see it in my reflection when I look in the mirror. Now there’s only one thing left. I don’t want to go with a thud. I want to go with a bang. I don’t want to be snuffed out like a candle. The end, my end, is all I have, am clinging to. I’m going to go with a boom, no matter how little it is.”

 

The Conversation at the Burial

“Looked like he didn’t know how much he was loved,” said one, marvelling at the turnout.

“He knew it, all right. He knew it well. Wasn’t the one to ignore such things,” said the other.

“Then why this? Beats me.”

“It just wasn’t enough for him.”

“What a waste.”

“He got his way in the end, at least.”

 

The Deceased

I wake up.

“Fuck,” I say in my mind. Must’ve been a failed attempt. “Damn!”

As I open my eyes slowly, I find myself in a void, nothingness. The place is blindingly bright and equally dark at the same time, and yet I can see. I don’t need to adjust my eyes to the darkness, or the light. I can see just fine.

“Oh fuck,” I say panicking. God is real, it seems. This is afterlife. I know I am screwed. I see the cherubs standing in a half circle, the blinding light in their midst.

“Where am I?” I ask.

“In the Divine Presence,” says a haughty voice. I would’ve asked where it is, but the way cherubs looked at the light when they said “Divine Presence” was another answer in itself. I wonder what I should do. Kneel? No, no, no. I did not just take my own life to kneel to a God who has been so cruel to me. I walk toward it, instead. I must see him. The cherubs are a feet behind the light, the Presence. I begin to inch closer to get a better look, but instead of getting nearer, I find myself going deeper into it, becoming one with the light. And then I see him, exactly how I imagined. It’s uncanny. It’s there, in plain sight, and yet completely invisible. We sit down, together. I want to narrate my story, but he already knows, so I don’t have to utter a word. I want answers, justification. The Divine must tell me why! I might have dismissed him in life, never given him another thought. But now I find myself looking for a warmth in him, the Creator: a sense of paternal security. He smiles at me and it warms me. I find tears rushing out of my eyes. The tears of pain, of injustice, of depravity, and of having been wronged. But now I have a sense of security, and I know that things will be better for me here. I am one with the Divine, I am The Divine.

And then the Divine rises, looks at me, and I see the light, the Presence, shrink. It gets colder as the Presence gets smaller. The cold chills me to the bone, and with eyes brimming with tears, I raise my head to look at the Divine again, and I see him. Smug and callous with an unconcerned air. I scream, I shout, I plead, I beg, but for nothing. The Creator is too haughty, he does not care.

“You don’t matter,” says another voice. “The Creator does not care.”

Suddenly my heart starts beating again. The darkness closes in on me, taking shape and form. I can’t breathe. Walls of solid, palpable darkness surround me from every dimension, pressing on me. I push against it, like someone drowning trying to get to the surface for one more breath of air. The walls have me boxed in, like a small coffin. I struggle to move but can’t move a muscle. I’m choking, I’m desperate. I’m stuck in time, there’s no death now. I try to breath and struggle to move, but can’t do either. Then a voice, more grand this time, but equally bitchy, says:

“And he knows what you truly fear.”

And I know that he knows. And even as I choke, paralysed, locked in time together with what I fear the most, I realize how screwed up the divine is. I thought life was screwed, and realize that afterlife is even more fucked up.

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