A Letter from the Dead

While he is still living on Earth, a Muslim quietly wonders what happens after one dies. Despite his best efforts, the man fails to answer his complex question and decides to send a letter after his death to educate others about what really happens when the last fistful of dirt is thrown on his shrouded body.Like everyone else, the Muslim man does not possess an unlimited visa to stay in this world and suddenly passes away one day, shocking his loved ones and overjoying his enemies. As promised, he leads others through the process of death and beyond, providing an intriguing glimpse into a holographic world where souls wait to be personally interviewed by God and an army of angels. But everything changes after he receives Gods blessing to enter heaven and makes an unusual request that astonishes God and the angels and steers him down a new path where he will make amazing discoveries about life, religion, and his fellow man.A Letter from the Dead shares a Muslim mans enlightening journey from Earth to the world beyond as he learns valuable lessons he openly shares with the living.

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A Letter from the DeadBy M. SarwarAuthorHouse LLCCopyright © 2014 M. Sarwar, MD, FACRAll rights reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4969-0856-8CHAPTER 1A Letter from the DeadI had always wondered what happens after one dies. One reads so much in the Quran and other religious documents about the good and bad rewards one will get, depending upon the good or bad deeds one does in this world. One reads about the harsh punishment one would get for misdeeds on one hand, and then one learns about the most forgiving Allah! When does he decide to forgive, and when does he dole out severe punishment?While living, I made a concerted effort to find some obscure document, clue, or proof of what really happens after one dies. At funerals, I would carefully try to eavesdrop on the corpse to discover what it was whispering. At the graves, I would hope that I would hear something to know how the dead underground are feeling.I wanted to know the status of the environment in that darkened hole. Were the dead really there, or had they flown physically to the skies? Were their bodies wrapped in white sheets while the souls had deserted them and gone upstairs? I had totally failed.I decided that I would send a letter after my death to educate people about what really happens when the last fistful of dirt is thrown on the shrouded body and everybody leaves. I am doing that now.Like everybody else, I had no unlimited visa to stay in this world. I passed away. The death was unexpected and sudden. The family and friends were unprepared and gravely saddened, but my enemies were overjoyed. I would have wished cremation so that I would only deal with what happens to my "soul," but being a Muslim, that was not an option.I immediately discovered that when the body dies, hearing is not significantly impaired. Some primitive thinking remains. My vision is nearly totally lost. Only a few tiny glimmers of light floated in the darkness of that limited space where my body was deposited. Hearing was my main instrument for gathering information about the afterlife and the early post-death period.The crying and sorrow of my immediate family were troubling and distressful, especially my dear lovely wife and my three daughters. I felt guilty for having died and for having left them in so much grief. Since a Muslim's body has to buried soon after death, I was carried to the mosque for ghusul (bathing).The mosque folks were helpful, but they wondered who the hell I was since I had never been to that mosque for prayers. One of the honchos of that mosque whispered that this sala (insulting word) was not a Namazi (did not offer prayers regularly) and was headed directly for hell. They did not know that I did not start my day without Namaz (prayer) and recitation of Yaseen Sura.The ghusul was quite uncomfortable. The water was cold, and the scrubbing with soap was rough and poking. How would they know that I still had some skin sensation left? I was quite unhappy that they did not spray me with any cologne, rub my body with baby oil, or spray deodorant in my armpits since that was my routine practice.Soon after ghusul, my body was wrapped in white coffin and Namaze-Janaza (prayer for the dead) was offered. The funeral procession and cars drove toward the Muslim cemetery. I was alone in the big wagon after being deposited in the casket. I felt greatly distressed as the driver played loud music and had a long conversation with his girlfriend about an evening date at a nice club.I was presently surprised to note that a large crowd was in attendance in the funeral procession. I did not know whether it was just out of courtesy and community obligation—or if people liked me. I reckoned it was probably the former.The grave had already been dug out. I was lowered into it carefully, lest I be hurt! I had a nice feeling. When ritual started, family and loving friends sadly and gently threw in the dirt. I felt as though a few were throwing the dirt as if to hurt me, a last effort to avenge a grudge or settle a score.After the burial was done and everybody left, I felt very lonely, frightened, and massively depressed in that starkly darkened hole. Amazingly and abruptly, the whole atmosphere in the grave changed. The weight of the dirt, darkness, and stuffiness that had been present transformed into a surrealistic environment of weightlessness, wakefulness, and bizarre existentialism.Even though I had no flesh or bones, my senses returned. My body transformed into a light charged with soul. I could not see, but I could feel a foursome, one at each shoulder and foot. There were no spoken words, but my soul began to communicate with that foursome in a peculiar manner that was characterized by light currents that intermittently targeted my brain.The light flashes started to issue commands that I could comprehend and established a mode of communication between us. My existence transformed into a soul trapped in a holograph. I learned that the foursome were angels. They graciously told me that my life in the physical world had ended. I would be flown into the skies to meet God.Before I knew it, my soul was in a world where nobody else I know had ever been. Everybody was a holographic soul fluttering about. The holographic state would last until my interview with God, and then I would be transformed back to as I had been in the world.The angels guided my holographic soul into vast arena where there were millions of others like me. The enchanting, colorful, and magical scene was also a bit frightening. The rainbow-colored souls were fluttering about like a sea of glowworms.I was told that all these souls were waiting to be personally interviewed by God and a huge army of angels. All of us sensed dime-sized, silver-colored weightless circles against the nail of our left thumbs. My neighbor, who had come before me, told me that it was a chip that contained all the information about our lives in the world. We all had to pass through a computer check that required us to flash our left thumbs against a chip reader. The computer would sort out our evil deeds from our good deeds.I humbly and hesitantly asked one angel, "How come when God said in the Quran that he knows of all our actions, there is still this process for computing positive and negative aspects of our deeds?"He laughed and said, "He knows everything about us. We forget most of our worldly actions. God just wants us to recollect them before he decides whether we will go to heaven or hell."The state of the holographic souls would last until judgment was passed on whether we would go to heaven or hell. After the computer test and the final decision of where we would eternally abide, we were transformed back into our original forms.Before the final judgment was passed, God gave us permission to briefly review what heaven and hell looked like. I was pretty sure that my chances, at least initially, of going to heaven were slim. I was more interested in the makeup of hell, but I was curious to know what heaven looked like.I decided to make the trip to hell. I was greatly surprised to find that there were at least a thousand tiers of hell. Each tier differed from the others in three aspects: the degree of heat, the meager furnishings, and the quality of food. The severity of heat was the paramount factor in differentiating one tier from the other. The hottest tier was the top one.I was pleasantly surprised to observe that the temperatures were not blazing and blistering. There were bursts of heat every few hours that lasted for several minutes. They scorched the skin and caused incredibly immense pain. The suffering would soon vanish, and the skin would return to its normal status until the next episode.Of course, the degree of heat one was subjected to was directly proportional to the sins and the ugliness of the bad deeds. Except for the episodes of scorching heat, the average temperature was uncomfortably bearable, remaining under 130° Fahrenheit. The furnishings, though meager, were comfortable at all tiers; the lesser evildoers had somewhat cleaner furnishings.The food was enough in regard to calories, but taste and presentation coincided with the enormity of the sins; the less sinful one was, the better the quality of food. Men and women lived in the same quarters and wore the same uniforms. No makeup or bodily decoration was allowed for women. No hair dressing, manicuring, pedicuring, or shaving was permitted for either sex, but good hygiene was required for all. Showers, soap, and bathroom facilities were provided. All I saw was hairy creatures that looked like they were from the Stone Age.Having had some idea about hell, I wanted to know something about heaven as well. I was not sure if I would be able to visit heaven since I had not done much good in life. I was quite sure I would be led into hell.God and thousands of angels investigated the new "dead" arrivals and decided whether they would be sent to hell or heaven. I tiptoed to a kind, friendly angel. I stood sheepishly near him.He looked askance at me and winked.I was quite taken back. What was that wink about? Could it be that? Oh, not! Angels and that! For heaven's sake, come to your senses. I engaged my gaze unto his.He appeared willing to grant my wish—whatever it might be.I asked that I be allowed a short visit to heaven to see what was happening there.The angel thought for a little while. He said that since my fate had not yet been decided, it would be all right for me to visit heaven.I was ecstatic for the opportunity and thanked him immensely. I darted toward heaven's gates and dashed through them.I had a spectacular view of heaven. I was struck by its spectacular beauty and elegance. The breathtaking lush green landscape was dotted with colorful flowers. I inhaled the intoxicating fragrance and freshness. Glowing birds chirped musically to the lyrical and soothing gurgling sounds of fountains that spurted water hundreds of feet above. Curiously, there was no sky when I looked up. It seemed to be an endless void.Countless streams snaked their way through heaven. The blue water glistened. Beautiful trees with leaves of all forms and colors lined the streams. At frequent intervals along the streams, enclaves, patios, and gazebos were beautifully decorated with subtle but unbelievably beautiful paintings. Near each spot, I could see into small gorgeous glass huts. I guess God had decided that the residents of heaven were all good people without sins and had nothing to hide.Though the landscape was incredibly splendid, the inhabitants all seemed morose, listless, and downright depressed. I could not believe it. All these people deprived themselves of so much in the world to get to heaven, but once they get here, they seem so sad. The situation really made my curiosity boil over.Inside the gazebos, men huddled near women who were Hurs (virgins promised by God). Contrary to what I had been taught to believe from my religious indoctrination and reading of the Quran, they did not look remotely close to what beautiful virgins looked like in the world. Their faces were wrinkled, leathery, and listless. Their eyes were sunken; their lashes were heavy and droopy. They had thick, ropy hair. Their bodies were as thin and bent as bamboo.The Hurs wore colorful, flowing body-length tunics that silhouetted their bodies. Their flat breasts looked like mud plastered on a wall and hung down almost to their navels. Their nipples stuck out like almonds. It seemed as though God had created them millions of years before he came upon the idea of offering them as gifts to the inhabitants of heaven.The men, having come freshly from the world, looked healthier, well fed, and hulky, but they did not show much amorous interest. I could see an occasional shadowy twosome intertwined, but there was no movement. It seemed that sex was not an important part of the joyous environ of heaven. Could it be because of the age difference? Had the Hurs waited so long for the men that they had forgotten one of their female functions? Had God abolished reproduction as part of this union? They appeared to be friends and companions. I could not imagine the frustration that the Mullahs must have had in reaching heaven and finding what the Hurs were all about. What a disappointment for them! Maybe it was just what they deserved!There was another interesting thing about the women who were admitted to heaven. I wondered why God had not promised anything equivalent to the Hurs for the women. Did God forget fair and equal treatment for both sexes? Did God treat women differently from men?The women in heaven often wondered if they should opt for hell. At least in hell, the women and men lived together and had more freedom of communication and camaraderie. The women in heaven were not allowed to have any contact with the men. They were not interested in doing so because they did not find the men interesting or attractive. The women in heaven wondered if all the interesting, fun-loving, attractive men had ended up in hell.After allowing me a short visit to heaven, my kind angel beckoned me and informed me that my record in the world had been fully reviewed and presented to God for final judgment. Having had some clue to what heaven and hell were, I was not much concerned with which side I would be thrown into.I was brought to God. He seemed very kind and had a broad smile that portrayed his happiness with my deeds in the world. He put his hands over my shoulders and jokingly asked which side I wished for. God was joking with me; I was taken aback!I knew the Quran said he was kind and forgiving, but it also said he would punish anyone for bad deeds or disobeying his commands.God looked at me and said he had good news for me. I had some misdeeds and had committed some sins, but my overall performance had been satisfactory to him. He told me that I had been a religious, prayerful kid and that I had prayed and read the Quran for most of my young life. Even as I grew older and had some doubts about his existence, I had continued the morning prayers and recited the Sura Yaseen. I adhered to that routine until my death. I would not start my day without those two rituals.God was pleased that I had always been a charitable person. Whenever I could, I helped my poor family members and other poor people. My charitable contributions to orphans and poor children around the world pleased him. He specifically mentioned the orphanage in a village that I supported. The institution took care of room, board, education, clothing, and whatever else was needed for scores of female orphans. God was immensely pleased with that deed.God told me that nobody in the world saw him as a physical being, but when someone took care of poor people, God considered the person as his conduit and emissary and rewarded him or her with more blessings that were not always in material form. The reward could be totally abstract in the form of inner bliss, tranquility, or contentment with what one has.God made his final judgment about me. After weighing all the pros and cons of my worldly life, he had decided to award me a place in heaven. For some reason, I was not immediately pleased with that decision. I nodded my head in apparent thankfulness and grateful acceptance of that award.God sensed that I was not totally pleased with that gift. He obviously was aware that I was dubious of the award. I had briefly visited heaven and hell and was not completely sold on heaven. I had seen happy people in hell—even though they were subjected to the blistering heat and other suffering. In hell, I had spotted intellectually gifted artists, musicians, writers, political activists, and others. I did not want to be forever removed from their company. I considered myself not an intellectually rusty person. I was in a quandary. I had to make a quick decision about my reward.I moved hesitantly toward God. I knelt sheepishly at his feet and fearfully looked up to his face. I felt temporarily mute. I wanted to say something, but the words froze in my mouth. I jolted and pinched myself awake. I shook myself to ascertain that I was alive and in the presence of the divine.I clasped my hands and supplicated to God to grant me something extraordinary. I started to speak in measured, fearful tones. I said, "Oh, God, the Merciful, please bestow upon me the most unsought request." (Continues...)Excerpted from A Letter from the Dead by M. Sarwar. Copyright © 2014 M. Sarwar, MD, FACR. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse LLC. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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