By Farida Khanam
An ordinary moment can sometimes open the door to an extraordinary insight. This happened recently when one of my birds, a small bajri tota, suddenly flew out of its cage.
It all happened within seconds. The bird managed to open the cage door and disappeared before i could react. I had always believed that such a small bird would not be able to fly far or fast. But reality proved otherwise. I stood there, looking from one tree to another, trying to trace its path, hoping to catch a glimpse of it again. But it was gone.
In that brief experience, it felt as though i had witnessed a small example of a much larger truth. The image of the bird escaping its cage brought to mind the condition of the human soul. Just as the bird had been confined within a cage, the soul exists within the human body, contained and limited. Over time, we become so accustomed to this condition that we begin to assume it is permanent. The physical world feels real and final. We live as though what we see is all that exists.
Yet, life gently reminds us that this is not the whole story. Quran points to this reality in a profound yet simple way: “Every soul shall taste death” (Quran 3:185). The verse does not describe death as an end, but as a transition, an experience that every soul must undergo. In another place, it is said: “You were heedless of this; now We have removed from you your covering, and your sight today is sharp” (Quran 50:22). This suggests that what appears hidden in this world becomes clear beyond it.
The bird’s sudden flight mirrored this idea. Its disappearance did not mean that it ceased to exist. It simply moved beyond my field of vision. In the same way, when a person dies, the soul does not vanish; it passes into a realm that lies beyond human perception.
Despite all advances in science and technology, the boundary between the seen and the unseen remains intact. In fact, such moments invite us to notice something we often overlook – that life is not merely about possession, but about passage. We hold things for a while, we experience them, and then they move on. Whether it is a bird, a moment, or even life itself, everything is part of a larger flow.
They also quietly remind us of the need for preparedness. If death is a transition rather than an end, then it calls for conscious living. Quran states: “Whoever does an atom’s weight of good will see it” (Quran 99:7). This points to accountability, where human actions carry lasting significance. What we do here shapes what follows beyond.
Such moments invite us to rethink our assumptions. They encourage us to live with greater awareness, humility, and purpose. If life in this world is temporary, then our actions here carry a deeper significance; they are part of a larger, continuing story.
In the end, what appears to us as an ending may, in fact, be the beginning of another phase, hidden from our senses.
The writer is chairperson, Centre for Peace and Spirituality International
Disclaimer
Views expressed above are the author’s own.
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