Yog Rahi Gupta
Lately, these thoughts have been filling my mind as I reflect on the many friends who have left this world and left behind their legacies. Now, I find myself thinking about my own journey, knowing that my turn is approaching. Yet, I feel no fear. Why should I? This is the reality of life.
As I get lost in memories of the past, I think of all those who have gone before me. In my imagination, I see them again, and I believe that when my time comes, I will meet them once more. We will catch up on everything that was left unsaid and missed, in a place beyond this world.
What happens after death is one of humanity’s oldest and most profound questions, and the answer largely depends on one’s beliefs, cultural background, and spiritual or scientific perspectives.
Many religious traditions offer interpretations of what happens after death.
Christians believe in eternal life, where the soul either enters heaven, hell, or purgatory based on faith in God and moral conduct. Heaven is often viewed as a place of eternal peace with God, while hell is seen as separation from God.
In Islam, it is believed that after death, the soul is judged by Allah, leading to either eternal paradise or hell based on deeds, faith, and Allah’s mercy. There is also a period in the grave before resurrection, called Barzakh.
Hindus believe in reincarnation, where the soul is reborn in a new body based on karma – the deeds of one’s past life. The ultimate goal is moksha, or liberation from the cycle of birth and death, uniting the soul with the divine.
Buddhists also believe in reincarnation, but with the emphasis on breaking the cycle of rebirth through enlightenment (Nirvana). After death, consciousness may take a new form, based on the individual’s karma and mental state at death.
Judaism generally focuses more on life than on the afterlife. However, some Jewish teachings suggest the soul will be judged. There may be experiences of meeting loved ones, encountering spiritual guides, or reviewing one’s life.
From a scientific or secular viewpoint, death is typically seen as the end of consciousness. When the brain and body cease to function, all awareness and sense of self disappear.
Some people report having profound experiences when close to death, including feelings of peace, seeing light, or encountering deceased loved ones. While these experiences are often cited in spiritual discussions of the afterlife, scientists generally explain them as brain activity during trauma or oxygen deprivation.
Many believe that death is simply the end, and that it gives meaning to life because it creates a sense of urgency and importance in how we live.
What happens after death is ultimately a mystery. For some, faith in religious teachings offers answers and comfort. For others, scientific understanding shapes their view that death is the end of individual consciousness. Still, for many, it remains an open question, filled with both uncertainty and possibilities of transcendence.
In my dream the other night, I saw my departure from this world. A gentle hand extended towards me, warm and reassuring, as if it had been waiting. Without a word, I reached out, and soon, I found myself soaring through the sky, holding on to this mysterious presence. We flew together, silently, for what felt like an eternity, until we arrived at a vast and majestic place. It was filled with countless souls, all glowing with a quiet peace.
Then, without warning, the hand that had guided me disappeared, leaving me alone. As I stood there, in awe of this new world, a familiar face emerged from the crowd-a friend, one I had lost far too soon. The sight of him took my breath away, and when he embraced me, it was as if no time had passed at all. We sat down, hearts full, and began to talk. Our conversation flowed effortlessly, like the years between us had never existed. We laughed, shared memories, and I felt a deep sense of belonging in his presence.
A thought struck me as we spoke, that perhaps this was the place I had always wondered about-the realm where those we love gather, waiting patiently for the day we join them. It was comforting, in a way I could not have imagined before, to know that one day I would be reunited with the souls who shaped my life, now waiting for me on the other side.
As the conversation with my old friend continued, a strange calm washed over me, yet a lingering feeling stirred within-a sense that something was about to change. Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted, and the crowd around us began to fade, leaving just the two of us sitting in the vast expanse. My friend smiled gently, as if he knew something I didn’t.
“You’re not staying, are you?” I asked, my voice softer than I intended, afraid of the answer.
He shook his head slowly, his eyes filled with both understanding and sorrow. “No, not yet,” he whispered. “It’s not your time.”
A quiet ache settled in my chest, a bittersweet mixture of longing and acceptance. As much as I wanted to remain, I felt a pull from the world I had left behind-a tether to the life I had not yet finished living. My friend stood up, helping me to my feet. He held my gaze, as if trying to convey a message that words couldn’t carry.
“Don’t worry,” he said, his voice soothing like the breeze around us. “We’ll meet again. When it’s time, I’ll be here, waiting.”
I nodded, though the weight of leaving him again felt heavier than I could bear. With a final embrace, I turned away, feeling the world around me dissolve like mist, until I was floating once more. The sensation of falling, of being pulled back, intensified, but this time, I didn’t resist. I knew where I was going-back to the life I still had to live.
As I woke up, the morning light streaming through the window, the dream lingered, vivid and alive. I could still feel the warmth of my friend’s hug, the echoes of our conversation swirling in my mind. And deep within, I carried a quiet reassurance: one day, when the time was right, I would return to that place-to the ones I had loved, and to the ones still waiting for me.
But until that day comes, I knew there was work yet to be done. The world I had returned to still needed me-my community, my loved ones, and my words. I realized then that the journey wasn’t over; it was simply on hold. There was so much more to give, to create, and to share.
I had to keep my passion for writing alive, using it as a tool to express the emotions and stories that connected us all. And I had to continue my work in the community, to serve, to uplift, and to be present for those around me. This life was still mine to live fully, with purpose and compassion, knowing that when my time came, I would leave with no regrets, having left behind something meaningful.
So, with a renewed sense of purpose, I embraced the day ahead, knowing that every moment spent giving and creating would bring me closer to that final reunion, in the place where love and memories live on forever.
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