John Everett Millais, Ophelia, c. 1851, oil on canvas, Tate Britain, London ( Medium)

“Let me live as long as life sounds music to my soul
And let me die when death invites me to its banquet.”

(From morning musings)

My best half is slightly sensitive to some intense fragrances. Quite a few of my favourite perfumes have failed to get the approval of her olfactory senses. Once when the sweet aroma of frankincense and myrrh wafted from a new bottle of oil I brought home, she said that it made her reminisce about death — about houses fumigated with frankincense resins to mark the arrival of death.

“It’s one of the beautiful fragrances…

La Mort d’Arlequin (Death of Harlequin) by Pablo Picasso

“The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time.” Mark Twain

Things are made manifest by their opposites, an Arab poet has famously said. Sometimes it takes death, at its lethal best, for us to appreciate life and realize its full potential. On the face of it, death appears somber and taciturn, but its morbid silence enlightens us more about life than of itself. …

Faith: The fifth dimension

In a mass graveyard, time appears to be at a standstill, condensed to a sepulchral silence enveloping each tombstone. Densely inhabited by the dead who are relieved of the hurly-burly of worldly life, a necropolis constitutes the very antithesis of a metropolis. Unlike an urban sprawl, where life is always in a state of flux, fraught with a feeding frenzy, a cemetery is a tranquil scene, with gentle breeze caressing the headstones, birds chirping with abandon and bees fluttering from flower to flower. Unlike our high streets, boardrooms and the corridors of power, where everything moves…

Muhammed Nafih Wafy

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