Submitted By: Rashid Ahmed
Profession/Background: Corporate Lawyer
Book Title: The Death of Ivan Ilyich
Author: Leo Tolstoy
Before reading the Book:
For most of my adult life, I was deeply immersed in the world of deadlines, suits, and boardrooms. My days were meticulously planned, my evenings rarely my own, and my definition of success was tied tightly to promotions, a larger office, and an increasingly heavier briefcase. I prided myself on being efficient, sharp, and respected. But beneath the surface, I often found myself asking, “Is this it?”
Still, I brushed that question away, telling myself that purpose comes later—after retirement maybe. After I’ve built something. After I’ve “made it.”
That was until I encountered a few health scares. Nothing major—yet—but enough to jolt me, enough to make the silence at night feel louder, the office lights feel harsher, and the weekends feel emptier. I wasn’t ill, not really. But I began to feel like something in me was withering quietly. That’s when I turned to books again, something I hadn’t done in years.
Discovering the Book That Changed Everything:
A close friend, who had just returned from a spiritual retreat, recommended “The Death of Ivan Ilyich“. She said it wasn’t a typical self-help book but had helped her face some deep truths. I laughed it off at first—why would I read a book about a dying Russian judge from the 19th century? But one night, restless and strangely anxious, I downloaded it on my Kindle and started reading.
From the very first page, I was struck—not just by Tolstoy’s storytelling, but by the eerie familiarity of Ivan Ilyich’s life. He wasn’t just a character; he was a mirror. His ambition, his blind pursuit of social approval, his denial of mortality, even the polite, shallow relationships—so much of his world felt like mine.
After the Book:
The last page of “The Death of Ivan Ilyich” left me staring at the ceiling, feeling simultaneously shaken and… relieved. The relief wasn’t because it was a happy ending (it wasn’t), but because I had finally allowed myself to confront the question I’d buried for years: What does it mean to truly live?
Tolstoy didn’t hand me an answer. Instead, he stripped away all the illusions—status, routine, appearances—and showed me what remains when all of it fades. Ivan’s fear, his regret, his final moments of clarity—they felt painfully real. It made me realize how little time I had spent truly present in my own life.
After reading the book, I took a weekend off—something I hadn’t done in a year. I spent time with my wife without checking my phone. I listened, really listened, to my teenage daughter talk about her dreams. I called my mother just to talk. These may sound like small acts, but for me, they were revolutionary.
The Transformation:
The transformation wasn’t immediate, but it was irreversible. I began to change how I defined success. I started saying “no” more—no to meetings that drained me, no to unnecessary overtime, no to being everything to everyone except myself. I also began journaling every night, asking myself, “Was today lived consciously?” Often, the answer was no. But I kept asking.
I also began volunteering at a community legal aid center once a week. It reminded me of why I became a lawyer in the first place—not for corporate deals, but to help people. I started reconnecting with old friends, most of whom I had ghosted in the name of “being busy.”
I’m still in the same profession. But now, I work with more purpose and less ego. I leave the office before sunset. I take walks. I read more. I laugh more.
Most importantly, I’ve stopped running from the idea of death. It no longer feels like a horror waiting to ambush me. Instead, it’s a quiet companion, reminding me to live better, deeper, and more sincerely.
My Favorite Line & How It Helps Me Every Day:
“It is as if I had been going downhill while I imagined I was going up. And that is really what it was. I was going up in public opinion, but to the same extent life was ebbing away from me.”
This line hits me every single time I think about my career trajectory and the social validation I once craved. It’s a sobering reminder that success, as defined by others, can sometimes be a beautiful lie. Now, when I make a big decision, I ask myself: Am I going uphill or just falling with style?
To Anyone Considering This Book:
Read it slowly. Let it sit with you. This isn’t a book that offers solutions—it offers clarity. “The Death of Ivan Ilyich” is uncomfortable, even disturbing at times, but only because it speaks so deeply to the human condition we all try to ignore.
If you feel like your life is on autopilot, if you chase milestones without knowing why, if you’re scared to sit in silence—this book is for you. It won’t change your life overnight, but it might just plant the seed of a more meaningful one.