I skipped writing yesterday, I had a new design to push for our Spiderz home page and that went well. Using the tools we do, it takes about a day to refresh a web page’s design, mobile friendly and all, polished. You can see it at www.spiderz.com – it’s slick.
I’ve had my breakfast, and tea’s on my side, so the day’s begun early and on the right footing. The weather outside seems pleasant, sun’s up and I have an urge to go out for a walk. Hurray, summer ended yesterday!
I really wanted to take a small nap after praying Fajr this morning, which thanks to my commitment last night, happened almost on time. I was late by 40 minutes or so, but I prayed and I’m happy about it, of course at home, not at the local masjid (there’s one about 100 steps or so from our building). I never go to pray fajr at the masjid, if ever. Once a year may be.
I’ve been regular at my salat all my life, not in the way that praying as a Muslim is compulsory so you have to do it, but in a way that salat has always kept me functioning. There were days back in my teens when I’d miss a prayer or two purely because I had forgotten or got tied up in PC gaming or cricket, but it always remained on my list of tasks to complete and I recall completing the ones I had missed, later. Salat as we know it in Arabic and namaz in Urdu has always been a mission, a mission to report back to Allah and be amenable to the few things asked of us.
If there’s anything that keeps my thoughts and behavior in check, it’s the continuous realization that life’s going to end ‘soon’ and that soon isn’t really far – it’s around the corner. Being conscious of your reality is better than living in deceit.
I find most people have no interest in knowing, or talking about the day when this Earth shall be upon them. People love their lives and the world around them. The idea of ‘all of this’ been taken away from them is incomprehensible for some. Distant to others.
The modern man’s belief system, the so-called modern values and the ideas around the purpose of life in the twenty-first century, are all broken. They’re broken because they’re imagined and constructed on the faulty premise that life’s eternal (or that you must believe that it is, eyes shut) — a never ending recursive loop.
In reality, recursive functions are carefully constructed to end at a point in time, of which, you nor I have any knowledge, any certainly.
Many a castles lie in ruin, many a ways deserted.
I live to see the end of mine, I wish to see me live.