I'm going to die

The idea of dying fascinates me.

I was sitting outside in the garden the other day watching my fat tubby cat trying to catch a squirrel and failing miserably (because it was too fat) and then I remembered my grandpa.

How he was when he was alive and how he was before he passed away.

Two completely different human beings.

One was caring, dependable and had more discipline than a Japanese soldier. 

A person who would go out of his way to find me a sturdy piece of wood and some ropes to make me a swing just because I wanted to feel like ;

 "perempuan main buaian dalam cerita bawang merah bawang putih tu".

The other one was a person who couldn't drink a single drop of water, a person who was too tired to carry himself up to go and pee or to pray. A person who would look at me and not even realize that I was his granddaughter. ( And I'm like his favorite okay! sheesh)

When he was alive and healthy, I would sit next to him on the couch and he would ask me to list down the pillars of Islam and I would just mutter a few to keep him entertained before slowly easing myself away from the conversation just so I could focus on what Meredith was doing in the latest episode of Grey's Anatomy.

Even though he could tell that I didn't have any interest in hearing what he wanted to say (obviously I was a huge fan of the show and probably part Satan ) he kept on talking anyways. Mainly because he enjoyed chatting and also because he knew I would listen despite giving the less than enthusiastic response.

My grandpa would tell me how one day we would all die and end up in the dark grave all alone with only our deeds to accompany us.(That's how we Muslims roll)

 He would wonder out loud about what the afterlife would really be like and he would always end his one way chatter with the same thing.

He felt scared.

He was scared of what will happen after he dies. He was scared that his deeds will not be enough.

And now he is dead.

And one day I will die too. 

It's so fascinating to me.

I can't freeze myself.
 I can't send myself to Mars like the NASA experiment.
I can't break my soul into tiny little pieces and make Hocruxes and hide myself so Harry Potter can't find me.
 I can't pay people to keep me alive artificially forever and ever there is NO POSSIBLE WAY. (try and google this crap up, you will be disappointed)

Someday, a bunch of ladies will be washing me one final time, wrap me up in white cloth and place me in front of people who will then pray for me.

Someday a group of men will lower my neatly wrapped body in the ground, cover me up in soil and then I'll be buried in there forever and my mum won't be able to save me.

My grandpa was a religious person who would never intentionally miss a prayer. He was brave and kind and giving and yet he was scared to face death.

Where the heck does that leave me