My funeral lendid, exactly as I』d wanted. It made me proud that everybody I』d wished would attend came. Of the viziers who were in Istanbul at the time of my death, Haji Hüseyin Pasha of Cyprus and Baki Pasha the Lame loyally remembered that I』d rendered extensive services to them at oime or ahe presence of the Minister of Ats, Red Melek Pasha, who, at the time of my death was both in high favor and much criticized, enlivehe humble courtyard of our neighborhood mosque. Had I lived and tinued an active political life, I would』ve been promoted to the same rank as Mustafa Agha, the Sultan』s Chief Herald, whose presence especially delighted me. The mourners stituted a large, dignified and impressive group that included the Divaary Kemalettin Effendi, Chief Secretary Salim Effendi the Austere, the heralds of the Divan—each of whom was either a dear friend or an aremy—a group of former Divan cillors whned early from active political life, my school friends, others who』d somehow learned of my death—I agine how or where—and various other relatives, in-laws and youths.
I also took pride in the gregation, its seriousness and its grief. The presence of the Head Treasurer Haz 1m Agha and the ander of the Imperial Guard made clear to all in attendahat His Excellency Our Sultan was sincerely aggrieved by my untimely death. I was, indeed, very pleased by this. I don』t know whether the sorrow of lorious Sultan means great efforts will be made to catch my rogue murderer, including the mobilization of torturers, but I do know this: that accursed man is now in the courtyard, among the other miniaturists and calligraphers, wearing a dignified and exceedingly tormented expression as he gazes at my coffin.
Pray, don』t think that I』m infuriated by my murderer or that I』m set on a path of revenge, or even that my soul is restless because I』ve been treacherously and cruelly slain. I am, at present, on a pletely different plane of being, and my soul is quite at peace, haviuro its flory after years of suffering oh.
My soul temporarily quitted my body, which was writhing in pain as it lay covered in blood from the blows of the inkpot, and quivered for a while within an intense light; afterward, two beautiful and smiling angels with faces bright as the sun—such as I』d read about tless times in the Book of the Soul—sloroached me within this ethereal brilliance, grabbed me by my arms, as if I were still a body, and began their ast. Ever so serenely aly, ever so quickly we asded as if in a blissful dream! We passed through forests of fire, forded rivers of light and fed dark seas and mountains of snow and ice. Each crossing took us thousands of years, though it seemed no more than the blink of an eye.
We asded through the seven Heavens, passing varieties of gatherings, peculiar creatures, marshes and clouds swarming with an infinite variety of is and birds. At each level of Heaven, the angel who led the way would kno a portal, and when the question, 「Who goes there?」 came from beyond, the angel would describe me including all my names and attributes, summing up by saying, 「An obedient servant of Exalted Allah!」—which would bring tears of joy to my eyes. I knew, however, that there were yet thousands of years before the Day of Judgment when those destined for Heaven would be separated from those destined for Hell.
My assion, except for a few minor differences, happened just the way Gazzali, El Jevziyye and endary scholars described in