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Zoroastrian teaching on the afterlife rests on the conviction that every human life is morally weighty and that thought, word, and deed all echo beyond death. At the moment of death, the soul (urvan) is said to remain near the body for three nights, experiencing a foretaste of what it has made of itself through its alignment either with truth and order (asha) or with falsehood and chaos (druj). On the fourth day, the soul begins its journey toward judgment, carrying the full imprint of its ethical history. Nothing external or vicarious can substitute for this inner record; each person bears responsibility for the spiritual quality of a lifetime’s choices.
The decisive moment comes at the Chinvat Bridge, often called the Bridge of Judgment or the Bridge of the Separator. Here, divine beings—Mithra, Sraosha, and Rashnu—preside over the weighing of good and evil deeds, understood in terms of good thoughts, good words, and good actions. For the righteous, the bridge becomes broad and secure, and they encounter a radiant, welcoming presence that is the personification of their own good deeds, leading them into the “Best Existence,” also known as Paradise or the House of Song, a realm of light, joy, and nearness to Ahura Mazda. For the wicked, the bridge narrows to a perilous edge; they meet a terrifying figure embodying their misdeeds and fall into the “Worst Existence,” the House of Lies, characterized by darkness, stench, and suffering. Some teachings also speak of graded or intermediate states, including a realm for those whose good and evil deeds are roughly balanced, reflecting the nuanced spectrum of human moral life.
Yet this individual judgment does not exhaust the Zoroastrian vision. The tradition looks toward a final renovation of the world, a cosmic culmination in which the dead are resurrected and reunited with perfected, immortal bodies. At that time, a universal judgment and purification takes place, symbolized as a river of molten metal flowing over all creation: for the righteous it is experienced as gentle and soothing, like warm milk, while for the wicked it is searing and painful, burning away the residue of evil. In this eschatological horizon, evil and its powers are ultimately overcome, creation is renewed, and all souls are brought into a state of restored harmony under Ahura Mazda. The afterlife, therefore, is not merely a system of reward and punishment, but a vast moral drama in which justice, purification, and the eventual healing of creation are held together in a single, hopeful vision.