The following passage is a translated excerpt from Shafiq-ur-Rehman’s story, Manzil (Destiny) from his book, Pachtaway (Regrets).
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Our protagonist, who is a doctor, is on a war ship during WW2 headed to an unknown fighting front. He meets different people on his uncertain voyage. Late one night, he is introduced to an old American who, he is told, is a well-known journalist.
This unnamed journalist is regaling people with stories from his life. Towards the end of the night, he tells his audience about his will.
Here he is in his own words:
“My friends, I am well aware of my old age. By this time, I should have amassed financial wealth, of which I have none, to leave behind me. I do, however, have intangible untold riches that I will bequeath to my beneficiaries, to all of you.
Here, let me tell you what it is. Listen carefully.
I will leave the variant colors of rainbow, bright flowers, floating butterflies, guiding stars, stories from other worlds. I will leave these for the children and for those who have been unaffected by yesteryears and who are still young at heart.
I will leave the passionate, inebriated moments for lovers. Fleeting, invaluable moments that are pulsating with life. I will leave these perfumed, moonlit nights for lovers.
And for women, I will leave the vibrent colors of life and their beloved’s shy yet everlasting attention. And all the comforts of the life that is their due.
And for the depressed and hopeless, I will leave them the sunrise, when this world awakes anew with the bright sun every morning, when past is buried and a new present is born.
For restless souls, I will leave them the ownership of vast deserts, unfathomable oceans, undiscovered islands, as well as the gift of life. Life, which is forever moving, which is boundless in its freshness.
And for those whose hearts have hardened with the material world, I will leave them heart-tugging, alluring symphonies of music that will make them forget this temporal world.
And for those who are deprived of everything in life, who have nothing to their name in this world, who face constant failures in life, I will leave them sincerity of friends. Friendship, upon which no value can be placed and one that surrounds people with love and lifts them from despair.
My friends, I will leave this beautiful life, that I have loved every moment, and all that it contains within it to all of you after I am gone.
And when I am gone, bury me anywhere.
In lush green gardens where numerous, colorful flowers carpet the field. Or amongst remote and abandoned ruins, where there is no spring, where loneliness and melancholy make an abode. Or bury me at a mountaintop, between dense trees where my grave becomes a white quilt every time it snows. When, during spring, with the warmth of sun, numerous buds bloom into flowers and bees hum as they fly from flower to flower. Where the air is perfumed. Where, with each gentle breeze, my grave gets covered with flower petals.
Or, my friends, bury me in your hearts!”