This is the second time I write beyond politics in this space,and this is truly beyond, indeed it is "death", the beyond itself. Gahtan, my Tanzanian friend and I boarded the KLIA Express Train at about 9:22pm on Sunday, the 22nd of August after we broke our fast. The KLIA Express is perhaps the most executive of the trains around here but we soon found out it had other things to offer, like to remind us of how mortal we are, how much our lives are not in our hands and what it means to snap out of this world.
Baaaaannnnnnnngggggg!!!!!Came the sound from behind, a not so fast train had collided with us. Hmm, not so fast with that bomb-blast-esque sound and impact just spells how lucky we were. The impact was no less felt than a high magnitude earthquake, but we were not consumed. I wish those with sprained and dislocated bones a quick recovery, and hope that they discover no more than seen or felt at the time. Gahtan and I were totally unscathed.
People of Mandela, it is not to recount the accident that this is written, but to say how fast we must move in this mission called life to impact on others, because it might be all gone in a twinkle.I do not proselytize here, but this favourite prayer of mine by St.Francis tells us exactly what to do before it's all gone, beyond us and beyond our reach.
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury,pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
And by the way, the face of death was phenomenally ugly, nothing smelt worse!
