Assalamu aleykum,
Welcome or welcome back to The Golden Balance podcast. I’m your host, Fidan.
This first episode is about a topic that’s really close to my heart. It’s something personal, something I’ve been reflecting on deeply — and I felt it was the perfect way to begin this journey with you.
Losing someone you love changes something in you.
You start to see life differently. You start to feel how temporary this world really is.
Recently, my grandma passed away.
And ever since, I’ve been thinking a lot about death — not in a scary or depressing way, but in a real way.
Because it is real. And it’s near. Well, closer than we think.
She was here… and now she’s not.
Just like that. No more voice. No more hugs. No more presence.
Just memories. Just photos.
I remember sitting on my prayer mat, still in shock… and quietly asking myself:
“Am I ready to die?”
It wasn’t a dramatic question. It came from a place of deep reflection.
Because losing her reminded me that this could be me… this could be anyone.
We visited her grave… and I found myself surrounded by complete silence…
Graves everywhere. Names. Dates.
People who left this world at the age I am right now… and even younger.
There is no guarantee that we’ll reach old age.
There is no “age requirement” for death.
No promise of “plenty of time.”
We just assume we’ll have more tomorrows… but so did they.
And yet, we live in a world where the phrase “YOLO — you only live once” is thrown around like a joke.
But that mindset? Well, it can be dangerous.
Because yes, you only live once.
And that’s exactly why we need to live it right.
YOLO shouldn’t mean chasing every desire and forgetting the akhirah.
It should mean living with purpose. With remembrance. With the awareness that this life is short… and what comes after is forever.
Because when the time comes — well, it will — we won’t wish for more parties or more posts or money.
We’ll wish we had prayed more. Remembered more. Loved more.
We’ll wish we had returned to Allah with a cleaner heart.
And I’m not saying I’m perfect — I’m really not.
But we can try. We can all try.
To wake up with purpose.
To pray sincerely.
To remember Allah throughout our day — not just when things fall apart.
Serving others. Helping our parents. Giving sadaqah. Making dhikr while commuting or cooking — it all counts, I know.
And every small act done for the sake of Allah can prepare our soul for the meeting that is coming for all of us.
Maybe the loss of someone we love is Allah’s way of gently reminding us that this world was never meant to last.
That our real home is with Him.
So I ask again:
“Am I really ready?”
And if not, what can I do today to get a little closer to readiness?
The time we have is a gift — not a guarantee.
Balance isn’t about being perfect — it’s about being intentional.
Even one small step toward Allah is a step away from distraction.
For my grandma — I make dua. I give sadaqah. I try to be better.
Because I want to be someone she would be proud of when we meet again — in a place where there’s no pain, no distance, and no more goodbyes.
May Allah reunite us with our loved ones in the gardens of Jannah, where every tear turns into joy.
Ameen.
