Funeral

I saw a funeral yesterday, it was my friend's great aunt - so no-one very close to me, but I went along for the experience and because I'd like to think someone would be bothered to follow my funeral.
It was the first Muslim funeral I attended were I saw the burial. Amman has a giant graveyard outside the city, where everyone who dies in this city finds their place, and we arrived in the late afternoon.

The weather was chilly, but there was an amazing yellow/orange sun, so the shadows were growing longer, as the dirt was shovelled over the body. I couldnt help pondering on whether or not the dead person is worried about the cold..

So, a man gave a speech after that to remind us of death, and that our grave awaits us. Our life is as a mere day, in terms of how we will come to see it. And we return to our mother's embrace, and an interrogation by the two angels Munkar and Nakir. They will ask us, 'Who is your Lord?', What is your religion?, and 'Who do you say this man is?'. The only important questions in life.

But then if you havent prepared for those very questions, after death it's too late...

Before we came to the graveyard, we had to drive quite a bit. My friend said it's a good sign that we were moving quickly, because when the person is good the funeral says 'hurry, hurry', but when the person's fate is damned, the cortege moves very slowly, reluctant to reach it's destination.

I thought of the non-Muslim funerals I'd witnessed, and how the car crawls to the graveyard, and the mourners walk behind, in terms of this information. Its as if subconsciously we all know our fates.

It's easy not to remember our imminent crossing over to the 'other side', but watching others who have made that transition always reminds one starkly. Oh the human condition..