Suicide: My Salvation

Fakhra:

…this depicted the inner turmoil of a young soul that had all but given up all too well…the conflict, doubt, hesitation…the clutching at straws, withdrawal…and the jump in logic and the hint at irrationality…almost a trip there and back…write more…

lve,

t

ps: on another note I find it hard to understand how a person can willingly tie the knot with death…regardless of the cause or the grievance … life is precious…it should not be used to undo one’s own or other unsuspecting folks lives

If you are frustrated with life, become an ascetic, a Sufi, maybe you will find peace. That is much difficult than ending your life. While I understand that it is easy to advise, I have always believed that suicide has never solved anyone`s problem. Do you know how it is to be in the grave? Do you really know what hell is?

Hope you find peace in this world in some way or the other, Insha Allah.

Look danesh, this poem is an attempt to explain the consequences of losing the rationale to make the right decision. The person in this poem is new to the world where survival is impossible without interaction with the environment. To escape the needs and challenges of survival, he/she decides to end life.

Try to look for the positive message in the poem. If one does not use the `vital signs` properly or at all; a person can end up doing lots of stupid things, including taking his/her own life. It urges one to make sense of the most irrational of situations and strike a balance between the spiritual and the material. Why choose death over life? Try to see it in that light and let me know what YOU see.


temporal, answer to your question: To think is to exist, to feel is to flourish, to see is to believe. The `will` to tie the knot with death comes when you don`t want to think, feel or see, try reading the poem again. And thanks for liking it :)

To become an ascetic after feeling defeated is in itself an act of cowardice. What one should do is to face his fears and to wage war against them... not try to cover them up with a blanket of roses. One should concentrate on visualizing the glass as half full, and not half empty. To be what you are and not letting anything or anyone alter your mental condition in any way is an act of bravery, not turning into an ascetic.

This is a very good poem, Fakhra. It`s easy to understand and it`s quite elaborate. :-]

Compliment appreciated azure. Thank you so much!

Fakhra:

...perhaps you misunderstood the post script...it was not aimed at your poem or depiction:)

...when i wrote: ``on another note I find it hard to understand how a person can willingly tie the knot with death…regardless of the cause or the grievance … life is precious…it should not be used to undo one’s own or other unsuspecting folks lives.``..i had the suicide bombers in mind...

...obviously they have serious girevances...but do they advance any cause by thier `suicide` violence?...perhaps they do on a broader cosmic canvas...but limited by my thinking i am opposed to any such action...

lve,

t

Uh huh. Thanks for the clarification. I wish the bombers could understand the `should not` part. But it is a difficult issue with so many variables to look at. One that I can comment on is, the people who program these `bombers` use their (socio-economic) weaknesses to trigger the desire to blow up life. And they smartly compensate for that by telling them that they would be martyrs and get eternal life in heaven.

It`s never the cause of the bomber, it`s always the cause of the programmer, of the puppeteer. The bomber gets his freedom and the programmer, his/her agenda. It`s terrible logic and thinkers wouldn`t be interested in knowing it. Why did you knock it?

Fakhra:

let’s agree to disagree on this:)

… wish the bombers could understand the `should not` part…the people who program these `bombers` use their (socio-economic) weaknesses to trigger the desire to blow up life…It`s never the cause of the bomber, it`s always the cause of the programmer…

…ah!…where do I begin from?…survival is the first instinct in a baby…it is a reflex…pick up an unsuspecting baby and throw her up in the air…tiny hands will not let go of your hands…or flail about to somehow land safely!…how can mature adult minds be so dogma ridden or myth-infested that they can be programmed to part with lives…their own and others?…this I fail to comprehend…(and yet I do understand what you are saying!)…

…it is the curse of misunderstood dogma and misinterpreted religion that hangs over our heads like the proverbial peer e tasma paa ..albatross, if you will…
…and for every suicide bombing that is carried out by anyone anywhere in the world …particularly when by a muslim I ache…as if I had a share in that act and blame myself partly for it…and this blaming myself is in a collective sense… we… the semi-educated muslims(I use this advisedly)…do not use our abilities…do not read enough about our religion…are loathe to study it or think about the various implications…beyond the usual rituals and dogmas…thus abandoning the turf to the mullahs…(of course this has been going on for centuries)…and they (the mullahs) have acquired a vested interest in interpreting the religion for us…(remember the irony? there is no clergy sanctioned in islam!…and His words were aimed at simple bedoins not aalims, faazils, phds, allamas)…hence my ache and collective guilt…

…I have a hope and a dream…I hope that if the educated muslim youth of today begins a serious study of religion they were born into…they would have an impact on islam as they grow up….they won’t be ripe material to be had at the whim or viscitude of the vested mullah…that they would be a influence in future to see the wheat from the chaff…to challenge any wrong interpretation of islam head-on…clearly I do not see anything Islamic in these suicide bomber…I have a dream….

…hence, as I said in the beginning, let’s agree to disagree

can make a stupendous suicide note/poem. though it`s good that you don`t have any such intentions.

Azure: I am unable to understand why becoming an ascetic is an act of cowardice. You have said that being resolute etc is an act of bravery. While I accept that, I still am unable to comprehend how turning into an ascetic is cowardice. Could you please elaborate?

noetherf: I see what you mean. I guess I took things a bit too literally. Yes, it makes sense if one reads from the stand point you`ve mentioned. Needless to say the poem is well written and makes a profound impact.

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Danesh: I am glad you understood :)

Mr. Isphahani: I see what you mean, God bless you.

Moulaboux: Never did, thank you so much :)

Temporal: But ofcourse, what can we do about loose ends, they are so many! Yet I strongly agree with:

`it is the curse of misunderstood dogma and misinterpreted religion that hangs over our heads like the proverbial peer e tasma paa ..albatross, if you will…
…and for every suicide bombing that is carried out by anyone anywhere in the world …particularly when by a muslim I ache…as if I had a share in that act and blame myself partly for it…and this blaming myself is in a collective sense… we… the semi-educated muslims(I use this advisedly)…do not use our abilities…do not read enough about our religion…are loathe to study it or think about the various implications…beyond the usual rituals and dogmas…thus abandoning the turf to the mullahs…(of course this has been going on for centuries)…and they (the mullahs) have acquired a vested interest in interpreting the religion for us…(remember the irony? there is no clergy sanctioned in islam!…`

Well said. It is never too late to hope.

Azure: I too would like an explanation on your `ascetics are cowards` theory. I think asceticism and cowardice are two very different things. An ascetic is not alone, cowards are. Allow me to share these beautiful words with you:

Once I stood alone so proud
Held myself above the crowd
And now I am low on the ground

From here I look around to see
What avenues belong to me
I can`t tell what I`ve found

The mother and the matador
The mystic each were here before
Like me to stare you down
You appear without a face
Disappear but leave your trace
I feel your unseen frown.

I looked for you in heathered moor
The desert and the ocean floor
How low does one heart go?
Looking for your fingerprints
I find them in co-incidence and make my faith to grow

Forgive me all my blindnesses, my weakness and unkindnesses
As yet unbending still
Struggling so hard to see my fist against eternity
And will you break my will?
Now what would you have me do?
I ask you please, I wait to hear
Your voice, the words you say, I`ll wait
To see the sign, would I obey?

Penitent: Suzanne Vega