The Choices we make
By: Dr Aftab jan
Life has only two paths, and every soul is walking on one of them, whether they acknowledge it or not. Allah has drawn these paths so clearly in His Book, declaring, “So remember Me; I will remember you” (Quran 2:152) and warning, “They neglected Allah, so He neglected them” (Quran 9:67). Between these two ways lies the destiny of every man and woman.
Either we remember Allah, live humbly, follow His commands, and keep our eyes on the eternal life that begins beyond the grave—or we neglect Him, drown ourselves in the glittering illusion of this temporary world, and end up sealing our fate with our own hands.
Yet look around at the world today: how many people have chosen neglect? How many live as though death will never come, building palaces of hope upon sand that will blow away with the first wind of the Angel of Death? Allah says, “Everyone upon it [the earth] will perish.” (Quran 55:26).
The palaces we build, the gold we collect, the cars we drive, the designer clothes we wear—all of these are temporary. Yet human beings chase after them as if they could shield us from death.
The Prophet ﷺ said, “Be in this world as though you were a stranger or a traveler.” (Bukhari). But how few live like strangers today! People boast, “My son is a doctor. My daughter is an IAS officer. We own factories, land, businesses, wealth.” But what will any of that mean when Malak-ul-Maut stands at our bedside, ready to pull the soul from our chest? When the soul struggles to leave the body, not even your doctor son can help.
The Prophet ﷺ warned us, “Remember often the destroyer of pleasures: death.” (Tirmidhi). But we try to forget it every day, drowning ourselves in work, in laughter, in parties, in screens, in the noise of this world. People pour their hearts and energy into gathering wealth. They count their gold, measure their land, check their bank balances a hundred times a day.
They wear expensive suits, drive shining cars, live in homes with marble floors and chandeliers. Yet when death arrives, all that remains behind. The Prophet ﷺ said, “The son of Adam says, ‘My wealth, my wealth.’ But what does he own of his wealth except what he eats and consumes, what he wears and wears out, or what he gives in charity and sends forth for the Hereafter?” (Muslim).
The grave does not care how much money we left behind. It only cares what deeds we sent ahead. When the body lies on the wooden plank, being washed for burial, all the gold, property, and praise in the world mean nothing. People who once admired you, who called you generous and respectable, will cover you in a white shroud and lower you into the earth.
The voices of those who loved you will fade away. Soil will fall over your face. The grave will squeeze your ribs so tightly that they interlock, as the Prophet ﷺ warned. Even the righteous Saad ibn Muadh was not spared the squeeze of the grave. What about us, whose hearts are stained with sin and heedlessness? The same people who bragged about their wealth and status will become dust and bones.
The Qur’an says, “And you will certainly come to Us alone, as We created you the first time, and leave behind whatever We gave you.” (Quran 6:94). This world, with its flashing lights, fame, power, and comfort, will betray us in the end. It will abandon us when we need it most, leaving us alone in the dark, silent grave.
Greed has become a disease consuming the hearts of people. The Prophet ﷺ said, “If the son of Adam were to own a valley full of gold, he would wish for another one.” (Bukhari and Muslim). People today are not content with one house, one car, or one business. They crave more and more, devouring others’ rights in their hunger for wealth. They lie, cheat, betray, and even harm their own family members to protect their fortunes or reputations.
They build empires of wealth, but inside their hearts there’s a storm—restless, sleepless, constantly worrying who might overtake them or expose their secrets. They appear successful on the outside, their photos smiling in magazines and social media, but inside they’re empty, terrified of losing what they’ve gathered. They’ve forgotten the real wealth: the wealth of the soul. People think their titles and status will follow them into the grave. But the grave doesn’t care about your Ph.D., your political power, your luxury car, or your imported perfumes.
When you’re lowered into that dark hole, only your deeds remain as your companions. The Qur’an says, “The Day when wealth and sons will not benefit, except for he who comes to Allah with a sound heart.” (Quran 26:88-89). But today, people sacrifice their hearts, selling them to desires, for temporary luxuries. They gather haram wealth, thinking they are securing the future of their children, but they forget that neither doctor sons nor IAS daughters can stop death or delay the squeezing of the grave.
The Prophet ﷺ said, “A servant says: ‘My wealth, my wealth,’ but he only gets from it what he eats and consumes, or what he wears and wears out, or what he gives in charity which remains for him.” (Muslim). People want power, respect, and fame, but the same tongue that boasts today may fail to answer the three terrifying questions of the grave: “Who is your Lord? What is your religion? Who is your Prophet?” The tongue that once argued confidently may become speechless if the heart was distant from Allah.
People forget that in the grave, you are utterly alone. No son, no daughter, no lawyer, no social media following will stand beside you. You will lie in silence, with only your deeds to protect or punish you. People spend millions on cosmetic surgeries, luxurious clothing, and makeup, trying to delay old age and cling to beauty.
But the skin they beautify will soon rot in the soil, the face they decorated will be devoured by worms. Their fame will vanish like smoke, and the crowds who once applauded them will forget their names. The Prophet ﷺ said, “The grave is either a garden from the gardens of Paradise or a pit from the pits of Hell.” (Tirmidhi). The reality is so painful, yet so many refuse to prepare.
When prayer dies in hearts, shamelessness grows like a poisonous weed. People skip salah with excuses of being “too busy” or “too tired.” They sleep through Fajr, binge-watch dramas at midnight, and claim they’ll pray later. But later never comes. Allah says, “Indeed, prayer prohibits immorality and wrongdoing.” (Quran 29:45).
The Prophet ﷺ said, “The first thing a person will be questioned about on the Day of Judgment is the prayer. If it is good, all his other deeds will be good. And if it is bad, all his other deeds will be bad.” (Al-Tabarani). Yet people miss prayers as though it’s a small thing, not realizing it’s the foundation stone of faith. Once salah is lost, shamelessness invades every part of life. People expose their bodies in tight, revealing clothes, calling it “freedom.” They post indecent photos online, hoping for likes and comments.
Vulgar jokes and filthy language have become normal. Relationships outside marriage are now called “love” and celebrated in films, songs, and TV shows. The Prophet ﷺ warned about people clothed yet naked, wearing clothes that conceal nothing. This is our reality today. The entertainment industry has poisoned hearts, normalizing sins that once made people hide their faces in shame. TikTok, Instagram, and movies flood screens with half-naked dances, haram love stories, and disrespect towards parents and religion.
Western culture has invaded Muslim hearts, convincing many that Islam is backward. People feel embarrassed to show they’re Muslim, choosing to copy Western celebrities instead. Hijab has become a fashion accessory, worn with tight jeans and flashy makeup. Allah warns not to follow those who have gone astray, yet countless Muslims imitate every trend, forgetting that these celebrities won’t save them on the Day of Judgment. The grave waits, dark and silent.
The angels of punishment will descend for those who rejected Allah’s commands, carrying hammers of iron. Their screams will echo through the earth, heard by every creature except humans and jinn. Fathers will flee from sons, mothers from daughters.
The Qur’an says, “On the Day a man will flee from his brother, and his mother and his father, and his wife and his children.” (Quran 80:34-36). People will beg for one sajdah, for one breath of repentance, but Allah will say, “No. It is only a word he is saying.” (Quran 23:100). The doors of forgiveness slam shut when the soul reaches the throat. Nothing from this world will accompany us into the grave—not our doctor son, nor our IAS daughter, nor our fortunes.
The same lips that boast today will lie silent forever. People will cry over our corpses, but soon their tears will dry, and they will return to laughter, weddings, and the affairs of life. Meanwhile, we will lie beneath the earth, utterly alone, facing the consequences of how we lived. Let us turn back to Allah before we are wrapped in white shrouds.
Let us pray before our limbs grow stiff in death. Let us cover our bodies modestly before they lie helpless in the grave. Let us abandon haram before the angels strike with rods of iron. Let us remember Allah now, so He does not neglect us then. Because when the dust settles over our graves and the footsteps of people fade into the distance, nothing will matter except whether we remembered Allah—or neglected Him. May Allah save us from the darkness and terror of the grave, from its loneliness and punishment, and make us among those whom He remembers with mercy and grants Paradise in the Hereafter. Ameen.
