By Ayesha Farhan Siddiqui – An engineer in the making with her heart and soul rooted in the love of writing, good books, and great tea
We live in the era of the informed. Each event, big and small, is relayed to us in advance. Every development concerning all current issues is delivered to us in minute details. Not so long ago, you had to wait for your updates: an hour until the news bulletin, or a day until the daily paper.
Now, that wait is non-existent. A single click yields an avalanche of information. We are notified of the facts, stats, and probability of an event along with its expected impact on socio-cultural, economic, geographical, or political landscapes, even before it actually occurs. This is the extent to which our foresight has been trained. Imagine how many hours, lives, and businesses are saved by the timely delivery of vital data. From protecting your stocks from crashing, thanks to a timely stock market prediction, to leaving early for a meeting after predicted increase in traffic, to canceling a trip based on the forecast of torrential rains – there is really no measure of the magnitude to which our daily choices are influenced by these modern-day, algorithm-based prophesies.
In this ideal trade of valuable data, no one should have the right or need to complain. Except we do! Our systems have been trained to such a point of predetermined knowledge acquisition that we have forgotten that not everything comes with a warning sign. Ironically, the greatest event of all, the event that has the power to alter our lives more than any other event in the history of our existence, comes without any preamble whatsoever. Death comes unannounced. We would readily trade the knowledge of all material world occurrences for wisdom of this one inevitable yet unforeseen event. And yet, not even the most precise machine-learning algorithm can pinpoint the end of life in this world.
When someone close to our heart leaves for the afterlife, we are left reeling and with regrets and what-ifs. We wish we had spent more time with them, cherished them more, and been of greater service to them. And yet, do we really need an occasion as grim as death to remind us of our duty to the ones we love?
Can you and I not live, as if every day is our last? For truly, any day could be our last. Yet, we keep procrastinating on all the good we can do now, only to wait until it becomes all the good we could have done. Life – human life – is far too unpredictable. We cannot afford to hold grudges; by Allah (swt), we might not have the time to make amends. We cannot afford to move on without having asked for forgiveness. We cannot afford to avoid apology, just because it means stepping out of our comfort zone. Be your best self. Only when we begin to live with our hearts open and in a state of surrender, will we truly transcend the need of a constant forecast.
About author
