Then What?

You wish to be wealthy and well-off—trading, earning, planting, harvesting, storing money—captivated by the blossom of this world, content with its adornments, immersed in its pursuit to the utmost degree. You rush to pleasures and comforts, favouring the company of bad companions, moving from one amusement and pastime to another.

You aspire to strength and authority, walking in garments of arrogance, making light of God’s laws, belittling His righteous servants, settling into blind imitation of the disbelievers and idolaters—copying them in fashions and clothing—stained with romantic infatuations and illicit attachments.

You compete in building houses and palaces, raising dome after dome, erecting monuments and landmarks. You travel the world in leisure, strutting proudly in the finery of youth, swinging your arms in vanity. You let the urges of your soul lead you into sins and disobedience, loitering in the days of youthful folly, committing both major and minor wrongs—unashamed of indecency and evil, unconcerned about doubtful matters, unwilling to keep yourself away from songs and musical instruments.

You desire to drink and become intoxicated, the wine passed around to you, the cups filled to the brim. You dance, sway, sing, and delight. You frequent cinemas and theatres, mix freely with handsome youths and women, seek out alluring beauty in clubs and on beaches, infatuated with houses of vice. You roam in the meadows of suspicion, addicted to looking at the forbidden, violating people’s honour, harming God’s creation.

Suppose you are granted all that you seek, and your desires are brought before you—then what?
Do you not know that the sweetness of this world is mixed with bitterness, its ease with hardship, its prosperity with misery, and its joy followed by difficulty? The happiness of this fleeting world is never pure, nor is its bliss everlasting. Its charms are nothing but a mirage, its attractions nothing but trial upon trial. Every moment of it is bound to an end, and every place softens only to turn harsh again.

Do you not see that your peers, whom you once knew, have gone on their way? You will surely follow them. You will weep over your friends who have perished. Death will take you to the same places it took them. You will enter the grave alone, while others will laugh after you are gone. Decay awaits every new thing; death hunts down every newborn.

Know that the arrows of death are aimed at you. You will be called with cries of woe and lamentation.

ʿAbd Allāh ibn Khālid al-Ṭūsī said:
When Hārūn al-Rashīd set out for Makkah, a carpet of felt was laid from Jūn in Iraq all the way to Makkah, for he had sworn to perform ḥajj on foot. One day, he leaned against a milestone, fatigued, when Saʿdūn came upon him reciting:

> Grant that the world is at your command — does death not come to you?
What use is this world — when the shade of a milestone suffices you?
O seeker of the world — leave the world to its own people.
As the world has made you laugh — so will it one day make you weep.

At this, al-Rashīd sobbed so intensely that he fell unconscious, missing three prayers before regaining his senses.

Dhū al-Nūn said:
I was once in the streets of Egypt when I saw Saʿdūn the madman wearing a new woollen cloak with lines written upon it, his head slipped through the middle. I greeted him, and he returned the greeting. I said: “Stop, Abā Saʿīd, so I may see what is on your cloak.” He stopped, and I read on his right sleeve:

> You have disobeyed your Master, O Saʿīd — this is not how slaves behave.

On his left sleeve:

> Woe to the one whose sustenance is a loaf — brought by the Gentle Lord — yet he disobeys a God of Majesty — who is to him Merciful and Kind.

On the back:

> Each day that passes takes some of me — the two best things depart and are gone.
Restrain yourself from sins and repent — for sins are not an obligation upon the servants.

On the front:

> O lofty one who none can reach — from Ṭayyibah we greet you with peace.
This life is but provision — and with death, all feet are made equal.

And on his staff:

> Work while you live in this world with fear — and know that after death you will be resurrected.
Know that whatever deed you put forth is recorded — and whatever you leave behind is inherited.

I said to him: “You are a wise man, not a madman.” He replied: “I am mad in my limbs, not in my heart.” Then he turned and fled.

Disclaimer: This article was translated by AI. Original post: https://t.me/DrAkramNadwi/6715