"...[Each story] affects the other and the other affects the next, and the world is full of stories, but the stories are all one."
- Mitch Albom, The Five People You Meet in Heaven
I recently read the book from which the above quote was taken. It's been a while since I've read a good book, and by gum, this book was a good one.
Now, I won't spoil the story for those of you who haven't read it yet, but it basically goes like this:
The story is about an old man who dies in a work-related accident and goes to heaven. There, he is met by five people from his past who, regardless of whether he knows them or not, have affected his life in some way or another. Their purpose is to explain to him the events that had occurred in his life, for only when one understands, can he truly find peace (or something like that).
Besides being a fantastic read, the book also made me think about a couple of things.
Firstly, that our supposedly important lives are really just insignificant specks in the grander scale of the universe.
We all have our own stories. Stories that are interwoven with the stories of many others - friends, family, acquaintances, strangers. Anything, and everything we do affects other people in one way or another. Just as anything, and everything other people do could affect us. Do unto others what you want others to do unto you, as the saying goes. There's no harm in being a little selfless sometimes.
Secondly, everything happens for a reason.
Muslims believe in the concept of hikmah (wisdom). Everything that happens has its own hikmah, a reason why God made it so. We must not rue unfortunate mishaps, or bad decisions. No amount of regret can change what has already been done. The right thing to do would be to look for the positives and learn from them. Understand that every cloud has a silver lining. To quote another line from the book:
"But all endings are also beginnings. We just don't know it at the time."
******
I visited the Anatomy Museum at the HUKM Kuala Lumpur campus with my collegemates earlier today. Looking past the arguably dull curator-slash-tour guide, as well as the cancelled cadaver dissection demonstration, it was alright.
There were human body parts everywhere. Preserved, of course, in 10% formalin (or something). From the relatively ordinary hands and feet to the more macabre cross-sectioned human heads (one of the heads on display apparently belonged to a certain Botak Chin, although we had to guess for ourselves which one it was) and a baby still attached to its placenta, there was plenty to see. Heck, there was even a case containing male genitals which, naturally, induced a few childish giggles.
I wondered where all these body parts had come from. How the university had managed to acquire them. Who they had belonged to. If their previous masters had anticipated that their body parts would end up being indefinitely on display in front of many, many curious observers (none of the specimens were from the 90's onwards).
Looks like paths can still cross, even in death. I'd never expected to look upon the lifeless face of a notorious gangster, even if it had been partially skinned to reveal its insides, or cut in half. And what about those others? A dead pair of semi-formed twins - who would they have been had they tasted life? A pair of lungs - what air had they once breathed? A brain - what thoughts had once flitted about through its cells?
So many questions, and yet no chance of ever getting an answer. All just a part of the complex mystery that we call life.
