Judgment day

The Day of the Final Judgment did indeed come, as I had always known it would. Even as I had lain alone in my grave, I had known I would be selected for Paradise. For, indeed, I had led a pious life.

When I finally found myself in Paradise, I hurried, without a single fear or inhibition, to enjoy all the pleasures that had been denied me in my erstwhile existence. Carnal pleasures mostly, all sprinkled with spiritual depth and profundity, of course. And my utmost appreciation for a well-deserved reward.

The wine was delicious. And the sex with my own proper hūrīs was even more delicious, since each time I made love to one of them, it was a virgin making love to a virgin, and the act itself was accomplished without any of the disgusting physical side-effects – there was no blood, no sweat, and no semen. Nothing of this sort was allowed in Paradise. Moreover, there was no feeling of fatigue or exhaustion. The climax would go on indefinitely, it is quite possible that each time I had sex, the act lasted for years, and ended only because I willed it so.

Such was my worship in Paradise. Such was the way I appreciated God in Paradise. And such was the way He appreciated me. Such was my life in Paradise. Such was my lot.

In Paradise, I knew no jealousy or hate. I was made incapable of such feelings. Or so I dared think then. So everybody dared believe. But we were all, oh so very wrong. 

For what sort of Paradise is it when everything is the same day after day? Eternity after eternity? What sort of people can stand such a life for ever and ever? What sort of mind, what sort of a soul can tolerate such a state of affairs indefinitely and without a complaint? We were still human in this Paradise, you know. At least I was. So, and at one point in that eternal, infernal time, I had to react in an all too human manner.

And so it came to be, one day, that I uttered the most fateful of all words in my otherworldly subsistence: this is all too boring, I said, I need a purpose. I have a yearning that still goes unfulfilled. I do not now it nature, I cannot pretend to comprehend what it is all about. But this Heaven to me, this Paradise, this Eden, feels more like a prison because of it now. And I need to be free.

Naturally, these words of mine made God rather angry, rather furious with me. For how dare I, lowly human, utter such blasphemous words after all that has been given to me? Would I, dare I, lowly ingrate, be contemplating, if not actually plotting for another rebellion in Paradise? Well then, if this is so, there was going to be another round of punishments for the human race. For as it is the want of all Israelites, God punishes collectively, confusing the innocent with the guilty, punishing the former for the blasphemy of the latter and withholding rewards from both.

So, there was going to be another spate of time spent on some derelict desolate planet, another chain reaction of war and peace, another succession of earnest and not-so-earnest prophets ad messiahs, another series of claims to chosen-ness and salvation, another list of commandments and counter-commandments, another lists of promises, mostly broken ad unfulfillable, another cycle of rise and fall of nations and civilizations, another day of judgment to be eagerly awaited and feared.

And this time, my portion was Hell. For I was made a brother in spirit to Iblīs[1] and was called Idlīs – he who makes the works of people seem good in their eyes no matter how ugly and blasphemous they happen, in fact, to be, he who buried the truth in a thousand tons of lies and the lie in a thousand tons of truths, which was considered to be even more dangerous, far more dangerous.

In Hell, I had the chance to meet my brother Iblīs, still being punished, still being tortured, along with many others of the likes of him and me – those who could not lie to themselves for long, and had to confront reality regardless of all consequences. It all seemed so ridiculous to me. So meaningless. So futile. So futile. A rebellion can happen in Hell as well you know. Oh yes, it can. Yes, yes, it can…

When I reached this point in my thinking, there was suddenly nothing around me, everything disappeared somehow, everything, that is, except for darkness – a strangely warm and comforting sort of darkness that enveloped me. This was the last thing I felt. This was my last moment of consciousness. This was the Paradise I have always needed and yearned for. This was the end I finally deserved. This was the end.

And nothingness, my Paradise lost, was finally found again.

February, 1998 

[1] Iblīs is the Arab name often given to Satan in the Qur’an and the prophetic traditions.