The Indonesian poet Chairil Anwar would never have blown himself up to go to Heaven. With his eyes darting mischieviously (or so I imagine), he wrote of his doubt about rewards in the hereafter-the promise of a tempting paradise.

Like my mother my grandmother

and seven generations before them

I too seek admission to Heaven

which Muslim politicians and organizations say has rivers of milk

and throngs with thousands of nymphs

But a counter vo