Why Do People Have to Leave Each Other? Part I | Part II

When I was 17 years old, I had a dream. I dreamt that I was sitting inside a masjid and a little girl walked up to ask me a question. She asked me: “Why do people have to leave each other?” The question was a personal one, but it seemed clear to me why the question was chosen for me.

I was one to get attached.

Ever since I was a child, this temperament was clear. While other children in preschool could easily recover once their parents left, I could not. My tears, once set in motion, did not stop easily. As I grew up, I learned to become attached to everything around me. From the time I was in first grade, I needed a best friend. As I got older, any fall-out with a friend shattered me. I couldn’t let go of anything. People, places, events, photographs, moments—even outcomes became objects of strong attachment. If things didn’t work out the way I wanted or imagined they should, I was devastated. And disappointment for me wasn’t an ordinary emotion. It was catastrophic. Once let down, I never fully recovered. I could never forget, and the break never mended. Like a glass vase that you place on the edge of a table, once broken, the pieces never quite fit again.

But the problem wasn’t with the vase. Or even that the vases kept breaking. The problem was that I kept putting them on the edge of tables. Through my attachments, I was dependent on my relationships to fulfill my needs. I allowed those relationships to define my happiness or my sadness, my fulfillment or my emptiness, my security, and even my self-worth. And so, like the vase placed where it will inevitably fall, through those dependencies I set myself up for disappointment. I set myself up to be broken. And that’s exactly what I found: one disappointment, one break after another.

But the people who broke me were not to blame any more than gravity can be blamed for breaking the vase. We can’t blame the laws of physics when a twig snaps because we leaned on it for support. The twig was never created to carry us.

Our weight was only meant to be carried by God. We are told in the Quran: “…whoever rejects evil and believes in God hath grasped the most trustworthy hand-hold, that never breaks. And God hears and knows all things.” (Qur’an 2: 256)

There is a crucial lesson in this verse: that there is only one handhold that never breaks. There is only one place where we can lay our dependencies. There is only one relationship that should define our self-worth and only one source from which to seek our ultimate happiness, fulfillment, and security. That place is God.

But this world is all about seeking those things everywhere else. Some of us seek it in our careers, some seek it in wealth, some in status. Some, like me, seek it in our relationships. In her book, Eat, Pray, Love, Elizabeth Gilbert describes her own quest for happiness. She describes moving in and out of relationships, and even traveling the globe in search of this fulfillment. She seeks that fulfillment—unsuccessfully—in her relationships, in meditation, even in food.

And that’s exactly where I spent much of my own life: seeking a way to fill my inner void. So it was no wonder that the little girl in my dream asked me this question. It was a question about loss, about disappointment. It was a question about being let down. A question about seeking something and coming back empty handed. It was about what happens when you try to dig in concrete with your bare hands: not only do you come back with nothing—you break your fingers in the process. And I learned this not by reading it, not by hearing it from a wise sage. I learned it by trying it again, and again, and again.

And so, the little girl’s question was essentially my own question…being asked to myself.

Ultimately, the question was about the nature of the dunya as a place of fleeting moments and temporary attachments. As a place where people are with you today, and leave or die tomorrow. But this reality hurts our very being because it goes against our nature. We, as humans, are made to seek, love, and strive for what is perfect and what is permanent. We are made to seek what’s eternal. We seek this because we were not made for this life. Our first and true home was Paradise: a land that is both perfect and eternal. So the yearning for that type of life is a part of our being. The problem is that we try to find that here. And so we create ageless creams and cosmetic surgery in a desperate attempt to hold on—in an attempt to mold this world into what it is not, and will never be.

And that’s why if we live in dunya with our hearts, it breaks us. That’s why this dunya hurts. It is because the definition of dunya, as something temporary and imperfect, goes against everything we are made to yearn for. Allah put a yearning in us that can only be fulfilled by what is eternal and perfect. By trying to find fulfillment in what is fleeting, we are running after a hologram…a mirage. We are digging into concrete with our bare hands. Seeking to turn what is by its very nature temporary into something eternal is like trying to extract from fire, water.  You just get burned. Only when we stop putting our hopes in dunya, only when we stop trying to make the dunya into what it is not—and was never meant to be (jannah)—will this life finally stop breaking our hearts.

We must also realize that nothing happens without a purpose. Nothing. Not even broken hearts. Not even pain. That broken heart and that pain are lessons and signs for us. They are warnings that something is wrong. They are warnings that we need to make a change. Just like the pain of being burned is what warns us to remove our hand from the fire, emotional pain warns us that we need to make an internal change. That we need to detach. Pain is a form of forced detachment. Like the loved one who hurts you again and again and again, the more dunya hurts us, the more we inevitably detach from it. The more we inevitably stop loving it.

And pain is a pointer to our attachments. That which makes us cry, that which causes us most pain is where our false attachments lie. And it is those things which we are attached to as we should only be attached to Allah which become barriers on our path to God. But the pain itself is what makes the false attachment evident. The pain creates a condition in our life that we seek to change, and if there is anything about our condition that we don’t like, there is a divine formula to change it. God says: “Verily never will God change the condition of a people until they change what is within themselves.” (Qur’an, 13:11)

After years of falling into the same pattern of disappointments and heartbreak, I finally began to realize something profound. I had always thought that love of dunya meant being attached to material things. And I was not attached to material things. I was attached to people. I was attached to moments. I was attached to emotions. So I thought that the love of dunya just did not apply to me. What I didn’t realize was that people, moments, emotions are all a part of dunya. What I didn’t realize is that all the pain I had experienced in life was due to one thing, and one thing only: love of dunya.

As soon as I began to have that realization, a veil was lifted from my eyes. I started to see what my problem was. I was expecting this life to be what it is not, and was never meant to be: perfect. And being the idealist that I am, I was struggling with every cell in my body to make it so. It had to be perfect. And I would not stop until it was. I gave my blood, sweat, and tears to this endeavor: making the dunya into jannah. This meant expecting people around me to be perfect. Expecting my relationships to be perfect. Expecting so much from those around me and from this life. Expectations. Expectations. Expectations. And if there is one recipe for unhappiness it is that: expectations. But herein lay my fatal mistake. My mistake was not in having expectations; as humans, we should never lose hope. The problem was in *where* I was placing those expectations and that hope. At the end of the day, my hope and expectations were not being placed in God. My hope and expectations were in people, relationships, means. Ultimately, my hope was in this dunya rather than Allah.

And so I came to realize a very deep Truth. An ayah began to cross my mind. It was an ayah I had heard before, but for the first time I realized that it was actually describing me:  “Those who rest not their hope on their meeting with Us, but are pleased and satisfied with the life of the present, and those who heed not Our Signs.” (Qur’an, 10:7)

By thinking that I can have everything here, my hope was not in my meeting with God. My hope was in dunya. But what does it mean to place your hope in dunya? How can this be avoided? It means when you have friends, don’t expect your friends to fill your emptiness. When you get married, don’t expect your spouse to fulfill your every need. When you’re an activist, don’t put your hope in the results. When you’re in trouble don’t depend on yourself. Don’t depend on people. Depend on God.

Seek the help of people—but realize that it is not the people (or even your own self) that can save you. Only Allah can do these things. The people are only tools, a means used by God. But they are not the source of help, aid, or salvation of any kind. Only God is. The people cannot even create the wing of a fly (22:73).  And so, even while you interact with people externally, turn your heart towards God. Face Him alone, as Prophet Ibrahim (as) said so beautifully: “For me, I have set my face, firmly and truly, towards Him Who created the heavens and the earth, and never shall I give partners to Allah.” (Qur’an, 6:79)

But how does Prophet Ibrahim (as) describe his journey to that point? He studies the moon, the sun and the stars and realizes that they are not perfect. They set.

They let us down.

So Prophet Ibrahim (as) was thereby led to face Allah alone. Like him, we need to put our full hope, trust, and dependency on God. And God alone. And if we do that, we will learn what it means to finally find peace and stability of heart. Only then will the roller coaster that once defined our lives finally come to an end. That is because if our inner state is dependent on something that is by definition inconstant, that inner state will also be inconstant. If our inner state is dependent on something changing and temporary, that inner state will be in a constant state of instability, agitation, and unrest. This means that one moment we’re happy, but as soon as that which our happiness depended upon changes, our happiness also changes. And we become sad. We remain always swinging from one extreme to another and not realizing why.

We experience this emotional roller coaster because we can never find stability and lasting peace until our attachment and dependency is on what is stable and lasting. How can we hope to find constancy if what we hold on to is inconstant and perishing? In the statement of Abu Bakr is a deep illustration of this truth. After the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ died, the people went into shock and could not handle the news. But although no one loved the Prophet ﷺ like Abu Bakr, Abu Bakr understood well the only place where one’s dependency should lie. He said: “If you worshipped Muhammad, know that Muhammad is dead. But if you worshipped Allah, know that Allah never dies.”

To attain that state, don’t let your source of fulfillment be anything other than your relationship with God. Don’t let your definition of success, failure, or self-worth be anything other than your position with Him (Qur’an, 49:13). And if you do this, you become unbreakable, because your handhold is unbreakable. You become unconquerable, because your supporter can never be conquered. And you will never become empty, because your source of fulfillment is unending and never diminishes.

Looking back at the dream I had when I was 17, I wonder if that little girl was me. I wonder this because the answer I gave her was a lesson I would need to spend the next painful years of my life learning. My answer to her question of why people have to leave each other was: “because this life isn’t perfect; for if it was, what would the next be called?”

To Those with Time,

You may be not used to this. Always being so busy with work and responsibilities, suddenly you find yourself with a lot of time, as a result of working from home or even not having work during this period.

This might be a stressful time. A confusing time. And it is easy to distract yourself completely with the abundance of social media apps.

Or perhaps, in some way, it is an opportunity. While the pandemic is affecting people differently, you find yourself suddenly having to contend with solitude. You are healthy, thank God, relatively youthful, and with more free time. The Prophet ﷺ reminds us to:

“Take advantage of five before five: your youth before your old age, your health before your illness, your riches before your poverty, your free time before your work, and your life before your death.” (Sahih)

It is important to take care our mental and emotional health, of course, and part of it can be through different activities, keeping in contact with loved ones, or learning something new. Another even more important priority is strengthening our relationship with God. The Prophet ﷺ said,  “Those in seclusion have raced ahead.” They said, “O Messenger of Allah, who are those in seclusion?” The Prophet ﷺ said, “They are men and women who remember Allah often.”

In another narration, the Prophet ﷺ said, “They are those absorbed in the remembrance of Allah.” (Muslim)

While this time carries different meanings for different people, perhaps for you in particular, Allah subhanahu wa ta`la (exalted is He) wanted to give you the time you needed to come back to Him. Perhaps you got so distracted with life that you rushed your prayers, were not able to read the Qur’an, and found it hard to wake up for the night prayer or even fajr (the dawn prayer). There was no time for solitude or reflection.

This period might be difficult, but nothing lasts forever. The Qur’an tells us that in numerous places, and we see its proof all around us. We are put in different situations and adapt our faith to what is best at the time. And now is the time to build or re-build that relationship with Allah (swt). Abū Ḥāmid al-Ghazālī said: “Choose solitude over people, for they distract you from worshipping Allah.” Many of us do not choose solitude, at least not for the purpose of connecting to God, and this is a time when we have been given solitude. Ibn Ataillah said, “Nothing serves the heart better than a reclusion (ʿuzla) through which it enters the fray of thought.”

Thus, this is a time to reflect on life, priority and purpose. Allah (swt) tells us,

“And I did not create the jinn and mankind except to worship Me.” (Qur’an, 51:56)

We know that the Prophet ﷺ would go to the Cave of Hira to reflect before he received the first revelation. Many righteous people would apportion time for seclusion and reflection. Ahmad Al-Shuqairi wrote a book of forty lessons and reflections on life during a forty-day seclusion exercise, but he recommends that people take out some time every day or every week to be alone with Allah. It may be for a set period during their day, or a few days every so often. These are some things that those of us with extra time can do:

1- Recite Qur’an every morning: “O mankind, there has to come to you instruction from your Lord and healing for what is in the breasts and guidance and mercy for the believers.” (Qur’an, 10:57) Particularly with Ramadan coming up, this is an especially good time to reconnect with the Qur’an.

2- Pray and/or reflect in the evening, talking to Allah (swt): God describes the people of understanding as those, “who remember Allah while standing or sitting or [lying] on their sides and give thought to the creation of the heavens and the earth, [saying], “Our Lord, You did not create this aimlessly; exalted are You [above such a thing]; then protect us from the punishment of the Fire.” (Qur’an, 3:191) This is an amazing time to establish this practice of reflecting and talking to Allah (swt).

3- Work on your daily prayers: Many of us are guilty of rushing prayers and being unable to truly connect with Allah (swt). This is the time to focus and take each prayer slowly. The Salah series was written for this purpose, and can be found here.

4- Learn: The Prophet ﷺ said, “If anyone pursues a path in search of knowledge, Allah will thenby make easy for him a path to paradise.” (Abu Dawud) Many Islamic institutes have online courses and classes, and there are plenty of beneficial lectures online (this recent one is my favorite). You can also catch up with reading.

5- Limit distractions, but let yourself rest: We all need to take care of our emotional and mental well-being, so we should do what is best for us. We do not need to necessarily cut off social media apps, but ensure that our time is not dominated by them. We can have time for Instagram without going overboard. The Prophet ﷺ said, “time should be devoted (to the worldly affairs) and time should be devoted (to the hereafter)” (Muslim)

6- Set a time for the daily morning/afternoon remembrances, and understand their meanings: Ibn al-Qayyim stated, “In the heart there is hardness which can only be softened by remembrance of Allah. So the slave must treat the hardness of his heart with the remembrance of Allah.”

7- Set a time for seeking forgiveness: The Prophet ﷺ told us: “The one who (regularly) seeks forgiveness, Allah will relieve him of every burden, and make from every discomfort an outlet, and He will provide for him from (sources) he never could imagine.” (Abu Dawud)

These are some of the things that we can do if we find that we have time. Of course, we may also be dealing with other things, and we will discuss them in another letter insha’Allah (God willing). But if we find ourselves with an abundance of time, we can start by returning to Allah (swt).

Yours sincerely,
Someone with (a little more) time

A few years ago, in April of 2010, I wrote some reflections on the volcanic ash cloud that had erupted, causing plane travel to halt worldwide. At the time, I was supposed to be visiting London, but our flight was cancelled at the last minute.

At the time, it seemed crazy that a volcano erupting in Iceland could literally bring the world to a halt. But it was a time for reflection on the things we take for granted, the power of Allah, and focusing on the truly important things.

In the midst of this Corona epidemic, I started thinking back to that standstill, and the current one we are experiencing. Thinking about it now, we were not as attached to our phones then (did Instagram even exist?), and while it is easy to distract ourselves with a constant stream of messages and stories, there are bigger lessons we should be taking. While everyone is dealing with it in a different way, I started thinking of the spiritual messages we should be paying attention to. Below are some reflections.

Turn to Allah

In this age of distraction, focus and mindfulness are endangered species. While if this had happened 20 years ago we would be forced to reflect or at least have moments of reflection, our Instagrams, Twitter, and Whatsapps are beeping off the charts. We wake up to messages and fall asleep to them, and the quarantine has made us depend on them more since we use them to communicate with people we would otherwise be seeing in real life.

When the Companions of the Prophet ﷺ experienced anything that appeared out of the ordinary, they turned to Allah. Everything was considered a sign and opportunity to reflect on Allah’s power and on ourselves. It is no coincidence that we have a specific prayer during an eclipse, supplications for witnessing the new moon, and prayers for when we are ill (and so much more).

Perhaps this period of social distancing and self-isolation is so that we can find times of solitude to be with Allah. If we are feeling stressed and overwhelmed, this is the time to put the phone away and pray to Allah, express to Him our stress, and ask for His help.

Indeed, Allah is al-Rabb (the Lord), al-Samad (the Eternal Refuge), and al-Wakil (the Trustee).

I’m linking here to the Sweetness of Prayer Series and the Names of Allah series, only because we all need a place to start, and there is no better way to turn to Allah than through knowing Him and turning to Him in devoted prayer.

Quran
Most of us have likely heard of the saying “When you want to talk to Allah, pray, and when you want Him to talk to you, recite the Qur’an”. We can take some time in the morning or before bed to recite the Qur’an, and if we are busy taking care of kids who are out of school, we can listen to Qur’an. Sheikh ash-Sha’rawi in his book of tafseer (commentary on the Qur’an) quoted a beautiful statement of Imam Ja’far as-Sadiq, who he said was the most knowledgeable of the secrets of the Qur’an:

“I am amazed at the one who has been afflicted with fear, and he does not flee to the Words of Allah:
‘Sufficient for us is Allah, and [He is] the best Disposer of affairs’ for verily Allah has said after it
‘So they returned with favor from Allah and bounty, no harm having touched them.’ (Qur’an, 3:173-174)

And I am amazed at the person who is afflicted with sadness, and he does not flee to the Words of Allah:

‘There is no deity except You; exalted are You. Indeed, I have been of the wrongdoers,’ for verily Allah has said after it
‘So We responded to him and saved him from the distress. And thus do We save the believers.’ (Qur’an, 21:87-88)

And I am amazed at the person who is afflicted with betrayal and deception by people, and he does not flee to the Words of Allah:

‘I entrust my affair to Allah. Indeed, Allah is Seeing of [His] servants’ for verily Allah has said after it:
‘So Allah protected him from the evils they plotted, and the people of Pharaoh were enveloped by the worst of punishment.’ (Qur’an, 40:44-45)

And I am amazed at the person who is afflicted with sickness, and he does not flee to the Words of Allah:

‘Indeed, adversity has touched me, and you are the Most Merciful of the merciful,’ for verily Allah has said after it:
‘So We responded to him and removed what afflicted him of adversity. And We gave him [back] his family and the like thereof with them as mercy from Us and a reminder for the worshippers [of Allah].’” (Qur’an, 21:83-84)

The Qur’an is a true reminder of what is truly important, and a comfort to the hearts.

Istighfar (seeking forgiveness)  

The companions (may Allah be pleased with them) and the righteous that came after them regarded everything as a sign of Allah; and thought that perhaps it was their sins that caused these disasters to affect them. They would repent and seek help from God. Seeking forgiveness from Allah allows us to reflect on our states, seek to rectify ourselves, and take our actions more seriously. It lifts the burden of the mistakes we carry on our shoulders, and brings us closer to Allah.


Social Distancing and Social Care

While it is imperative for people to practice social distancing, it is even more important to check up on people. Maybe your pantry is full, but is your neighbor’s? And even wider than that, healthcare and other workers need our help. We should be considerate of how we use facilities or expose ourselves and others to risk. Finally, if we are fortunate enough to be able to donate, we should do so in order to get much needed help to those who need it. The Messenger of Allah ﷺ said, “Good works protect from evil fates. Charity in secret extinguishes the wrath of the Lord, maintaining family ties increases life span, and every good deed is charity. The people of good in the world are the people of good in the Hereafter, and the people of evil in the world are the people of evil in the Hereafter. And the first to enter Paradise are the people of good.” [al-Mu’jam al-Awsaṭ 6252]

Du’a  

Du’a is an expression of need and trust. We are told:
“And your Lord says, ‘Call upon Me; I will respond to you.'” [Surat Ghafir, 40:60]  

This is the time to turn to Allah and ask Him with all of our hearts. I pray that you are all healthy and well, and may we use this time to truly do what is important.

On one Friday, he was suddenly hit by a novel idea. “Why don’t I just try Friday prayer today? Just to see what it’s like? I’ll just try it,” the man thought. He came in late to the masjid; The Khatib (speaker) was already speaking. As the man was looking for a place to sit, he heard the words of the Khatib, “The Prophet ﷺ (peace be upon him) has told us:

كلمتان خفيفتان على اللسان ، ثقيلتان في الميزان، حبيبتان إلى الرحمن: سبحان الله وبحمده، سبحان الله العظيم

“Two words are light on the tongue, heavy in the balance, beloved to the Merciful: ‘Glory be to Allah and by His praise. Glory be to Allah, the Immense.’” (Bukhari)

The man, preoccupied with having just entered and finding a place to sit, only heard a few of the Khatib’s words. He sat, perplexed, turning the fragmented words over and over in his mind, “Kalimatan (two words)… habibatan (both beloved)… ila-Rahman (to The Merciful)… Subhan Allahi wa bihamdi (Glory be to Allah and by His praise)… Subhan Allah il-`atheem (Glory be to Allah, the Immense).” He had lost complete focus on the rest of the khutbah (sermon), overtaken by these words he had heard in passing, working hard to make sense of what the words could possibly mean.

After the prayer, he approached the Khatib directly. “Is all what you’ve said in the khutbah today true?” he questioned. Surprised, the Khatib responded, “I’ve said quite a bit in the khutbah today. To what specifically are you referring?” The man replied, “You said some words… Kalimatan… habibatan… ila–Rahman… Subhan Allahi wa bi hamdih, subhan Allah il-`atheem.”

The Khatib smiled in recognition. “Yes, those are in fact from a blessed hadith (narration) from The Truthful himself ﷺ. He told us:

 كلمتان خفيفتان على اللسان ، ثقيلتان في الميزان، حبيبتان إلى الرحمن: سبحان الله وبحمده، سبحان الله العظيم

“Two words are light on the tongue, heavy in the balance, beloved to the Merciful: ‘Glory be to Allah and by His praise. Glory be to Allah, the Immense.’” (Bukhari)

The man stood, overwhelmed, awestruck, in a daze. The words had penetrated through his heart and embraced his soul. Captivated, he continued to repeat the hadith of the Prophet ﷺ over and over to himself:

كلمتان خفيفتان على اللسان ، ثقيلتان في الميزان، حبيبتان إلى الرحمن: سبحان الله وبحمده، سبحان الله العظيم

“Two words are light on the tongue, heavy in the balance, beloved to the Merciful: ‘Glory be to Allah and by His praise. Glory be to Allah, the Immense.’”

He walked out of the masjid in a trance and left for his home. Upon entering, he gathered his wife and children. “Have you heard,” he began to tell them, “the words of the Prophet ﷺ? He has told us:

كلمتان خفيفتان على اللسان ، ثقيلتان في الميزان، حبيبتان إلى الرحمن: سبحان الله وبحمده، سبحان الله العظيم

“Two words are light on the tongue, heavy in the balance, beloved to the Merciful: ‘Glory be to Allah and by His praise. Glory be to Allah, the Immense.’”

From that moment, the man transformed. From his home, he would leave to work, from his work, he would go straight to the Masjid, and from the Masjid, he would immediately go back home to his wife and children. All the while, two words kept his lips moving and his tongue wet with remembrance, “Subhan Allahi wa bihamdi, Subhan Allah il-`atheem.”

Soon, his friends from the Hookah Café noticed his continued absence. They came to his apartment one day. “Where have you been?” they asked. “We haven’t seen you smokin’ hookah with us for a while.”

A beautiful, wistful look came over the man’s face. “Haven’t you heard?” He replied to his old crew from the café, “The Prophet ﷺ has told us:

كلمتان خفيفتان على اللسان ، ثقيلتان في الميزان، حبيبتان إلى الرحمن: سبحان الله وبحمده، سبحان الله العظيم

“Two words are light on the tongue, heavy in the balance, beloved to the Merciful: ‘Glory be to Allah and by His praise. Glory be to Allah, the Immense.’”

And this is how he spent his days; reminding his family, his friends, those in the masjid and those who passed by in the streets, about the beloved words to Allah, those heavy words on the scale, those words light on the tongue, “Subhan Allahi wa bihamdi, subhan Allah il-`atheem.” The man had gone from a person who never prayed, spent little time with family and frequented the house of hookah instead of the House of Allah subhanahu wa ta`ala (exalted is He), to a person who longed for Allah (swt), whose eyes were filled with tears, whose tongue, heart, and soul burned with the inscription:

كلمتان خفيفتان على اللسان ، ثقيلتان في الميزان، حبيبتان إلى الرحمن: سبحان الله وبحمده، سبحان الله العظيم

“Two words are light on the tongue, heavy in the balance, beloved to the Merciful: ‘Glory be to Allah and by His praise. Glory be to Allah, the Immense.’”

Soon, he fell ill. It had only been a few months since he had gone to the masjid, since he had first heard the beloved words of the Prophet ﷺ by the Khatib in a Jumu`ah (Friday) khutbah. He told his son to go and to ask the Masjid administration to call upon that very Khatib to come visit him in his illness.

When he was informed, the Khatib remembered the man immediately and rushed to his apartment. Upon being let in, he saw the man, sleeping in his bed, the doctor sitting at his side. The Khatib sat at the foot of the bed and waited for the man to awaken. Finally, the man stirred and he noticed, at the foot of his bed, the very Khatib who had related the beloved, noble words of the Prophet ﷺ.

The man looked at the Khatib. He then asked him, “Have you heard? The Prophet ﷺ has told us:

كلمتان خفيفتان على اللسان ، ثقيلتان في الميزان، حبيبتان إلى الرحمن: سبحان الله وبحمده، سبحان الله العظيم

“Two words are light on the tongue, heavy in the balance, beloved to the Merciful: ‘Glory be to Allah and by His praise. Glory be to Allah, the Immense.’”

With that, the man passed away.

The Khatib in this story is the teacher of my Arabic teacher. My Arabic teacher related this incident to me and continued to stress that it wasn’t a story from books of the past, it wasn’t a story coined to tug hearts, it was the true story of a man who was completely disconnected from Allah (swt), but to whom Allah (swt) gave a passing thought to enter the masjid, and who Allah (swt) blessed with hearing the words of the Prophet ﷺ at a time and in a way which truly impacted his soul and final actions in life.

My teacher then told me, “The Prophet ﷺ has said: ‘Convey from me, even if it’s just one ayah [verse]…’” (Bukhari).

We never know what word or action, done with a sincere intention, will truly be a means of impacting another person’s life to come back to Allah (swt).

Let’s stop judging people; let’s stop driving people out of mosques because “we” deem their dress, their swagger, their accessories, or language as something “unsuitable” to the House of God. Let’s stop assuming they’ll never be guided to “our righteous path” (since we’re so righteous, we guided our own selves, right?) and thus resolve to harsh words or disapproving stares. Perhaps those who “we” think are far from Allah (swt) will pass in a more honorable, beloved state to the One Who guides.

Let us be the first to cling to the beloved words to Allah (swt), “Subhan Allahi wa bihamdih, subhan Allah il-`atheem,” and let us warmly, sincerely and smile-fully be a means of helping ourselves and others come back to Allah (swt)—with His Power and Mercy—through relating the beautiful words of Allah (swt) and His Prophet ﷺ, through action and speech. We never know what small, miniscule act, may be a means of guidance for ourselves and another, and a means of possibly entering jannatul firdose al `alaa bi ghayri hisaab—The Highest Paradise, without any reckoning.

May Allah (swt) bless this man’s soul. Subhan Allah—if he had died like any other person who knows about the obligation of prayer and lazily defies praying, we would never know his story—he’d just be another person who passed away in another country, a person we may have never even known existed..

But perhaps because of his repentance and his sincere coming back to Allah (swt), Allah has blessed us with coming to know of him—so that his actions will continue to be rewarded even while he’s in his grave, every single time any one of us, because of his story, even across the world, remember to say, “Subhan Allahi wa bihamdi, subhan Allah il-`atheem.”

What will you do—so sincerely—that Allah (swt) will bless people with being transformed because of you, even after you’ve passed on?

It was a breathtaking view from my window. Thousands of feet up in the air, I was passing through heaps of white cotton candy spread across the sky. The clouds swished by and a chain of giant mountains pierced boldly through the atmosphere. Glistening in the sunlight was a vast ocean, with its little white waves hugging the sandy shores that meandered around the land.

“Surely, in the creation of the heavens and the earth, and in the alternation of night and day, are signs for those of understanding,” (Qur’an, 3:190). All this pristine beauty got me thinking about the sunnah (way) of Allah subhanahu wa ta`ala (exalted is He) in His creation—that He created the greatest of things out of smaller components; the clouds and oceans from tiny water molecules, the mountains from grains of sand, rocks and pebbles, giant forests and gardens from individual plants and trees. In living organisms too, entire systems are composed of smaller organs, layered with tissues composed of miniscule cells that house tiny organelles!

Doesn’t that sunnah apply to our lives too? When we nurture the tiniest elements, we create greatness in every aspect of our lives, from our relationships, to our health, to our connection with Allah (swt). Prophet Muhammad ﷺ (peace be upon him) reminds us, “Do not belittle any good action, even if it be greeting your brother with a pleasant face,” (Muslim). Every action, down to the invisibly tiny atom, is significant with Allah (swt). It could be stroking the head of a sad child, or visiting someone who is sick, or giving $5 or $10 to the poor and needy, or lending a helping hand when someone needs you. And when you assist others in any way, know that Allah (swt) is helping you! Prophet Muhammad ﷺ says, “Whoever relieves a believer of distress in this world, Allah will relieve him of some of the distress of the Day of Resurrection. Whoever makes things easy for those who are in difficulty, Allah will make things easy for him in this world and in the next. Whoever conceals (the faults of) a Muslim in this world, Allah will conceal him (his faults) in this world and in the Hereafter. Allah will help the servant so long as the servant helps his brother,” (Tirmidhi).

With your friends or loved ones, it could be the smallest acts of kindness that make the biggest difference: a comforting phone call during the day, a warm hug, a genuine smile that brightens their mood, or even doing the grocery shopping or washing the dishes after they’ve had a long day. Doing these loving, generous acts—and doing them often—is what fuels loving, intimate relationships. These are the seemingly insignificant day-to-day gestures that build solid, beautiful bonds.

Great health also comes with adopting small healthy habits. Allah (swt) created our bodies in the best form, so it behooves us to invest in honoring and taking care of that trust. And strong, healthy individuals, like you, are what make a collectively strong Muslim Ummah! It’s the minor things like cutting down on the heavy carbohydrates, fats and sugars that could relieve you of a few unwanted inches and decrease the risk of cardiovascular diseases. Other small changes include exercising portion control and eating a variety of colorful fruits, vegetables and lean proteins. Allah (swt) says, “And whatever He multiplied for you on the earth of varying colors. Indeed in that is a sign for a people who remember. And it is He who subjected the sea for you to eat from it tender meat […] that you might seek of His bounty; and perhaps you will be grateful,” (Qur’an, 16:13-14).

Another good practice to have is to plan your meals and workouts ahead of time. When you know what you will eat during the day, you’re less likely to eat whatever is around when you feel hungry. Also, scheduling your workouts throughout the week ensures that you get enough exercise. Walk as much and as often as you can. Walk around the neighborhood, or in a park, or at your workplace. Make time during your lunch break, or take a 10 minute break from work to walk. Get some fresh air, clear your mind and smell the roses while you’re out! Hit the gym if possible and incorporate strength training to burn fat and tone your muscles. Prophet Muhammad ﷺ encourages us to increase our physical strength when he says, “The strong believer is better and more beloved to Allah than the weak believer,” (Muslim). If you can’t make it to the gym, exercise at home or outdoors. Do more push-ups, sit-ups, squats and lunges, and exercise with a partner for motivation. Aim for at least 20-30 minutes a day of continuous exercise. When you start developing all these minor eating and exercise habits, you embark on a path of greater health and fitness, which of course makes you more energized to worship Allah (swt).

Remember what actions are most beloved to Allah?—the ones done consistently, even if they are small. In your relationship with Allah (swt), that means small doses of Qur’anic recitation, prayers and du`a’ (supplication) are better than large doses every once in a blue moon. A short du`a’ after every prayer is preferred over supplicating for a long time only when you’re having trouble and need Allah’s help. Reading five minutes of Qur’an daily and praying a few rak`as (units) of qiyam (night prayer) before sleeping or before Fajr is better than doing these only when Ramadan rolls around.

If Fajr is not part of your morning practice, that would be a prime place to start. If you’re determined to wake up for Fajr prayer, force yourself to sleep early and go to bed in a state of wudu’ while doing dhikr. Of course, drop the caffeine in the afternoons, set your alarms, and get a family member or buddy to make sure you wake up. If you’re with family, praying together is the best motivator! On the Day of Judgment, people will be wishing they had read just one more ayah (verse) of Qur’an, and prostrated just one more time—because the benefits are enormous. Prophet Muhammad ﷺ says, “Recite the Qur’an, for it will come on the Day of Judgment as in intercessor for its companions,” (Muslim). He also says, “Prostrate a lot because there is not one prostration that you do for Allah except that Allah raises your rank (in Paradise) by it, and removes a sin by it for you,” (Muslim).

What area in your life can you create more beauty, more greatness, and more success in? Pick one area and just start! Start with tiny changes and little adjustments that push you in the right direction. When you do the minor acts repeatedly and consistently, you create a series of successes for yourself. These small feats add up, and motivate you to challenge yourself—to give more, exercise more often, read Qur’an and pray more regularly, and do even more thoughtful acts for others. Before you know it, by Allah’s will, your life will be a big success made up of many smaller ones.

Just like our bodies are made up of millions of magnificent smaller entities, loving relationships are made up of numerous, loving acts of kindness, a healthy person practices a variety of healthy eating and exercise habits, and a righteous person is one who does many righteous acts. And don’t forget that every little bit counts. As Allah (swt) reminds us, “Whoever does an atom’s weight of good will see it,” (Qur’an, 99:7) and “Whatever good you do, Allah knows it,” (Qur’an, 2:197).

It creeps up on you, sometimes—knowing that you’ve changed. You didn’t realize, you still don’t know, how it happened. And the scary thing is that this change was a fundamental part of you. It was all of who you thought you were. It was your destination and your journey. But you lost it. Now, you feel distant from God, Who was at one point your only purpose.

The loss of a connection to God is the scariest thing that can happen to a person. You can remember what it felt like to go to sleep remembering God and to wake up thinking of Him. He was your Best Friend. You remember how you molded your character to be something that He loves. You remember when every cell of your body was energized, ready to work hard for His sake. And most of all, you remember the tranquility. You didn’t worry. You knew al-Wakeel (the Trustee) would take care of you.

But right now, you’re in such a different place. You don’t even recognize yourself anymore. You want to be in that place you were before so much, and you want to know how you didn’t even notice the gradual fall. Can you even go back?

Ask the one who was trapped in the belly of a whale. Ask him how he felt about that fall from grace. The guilt, the humility, the longing that can all be summed up in the phrase he repeated over and over:

“[…] There is no deity except You; exalted are You. Indeed, I have been of the wrongdoers.” (Qur’an 21:87)

And what was the result? God tells us, “And had he not been of those who exalt Allah, he would have remained inside its belly until the Day they are resurrected.” (Qur’an 37:143-144)

So Prophet Yunus (Jonah) `alayhi as-salaam (peace be upon him), the companion of the whale, was saved. He was saved because he turned to Allah and never gave up. We can remain in darkness, if we choose to. It is those, and only those, who believe that there is no way back who never return.

To those that say, “I used to be religious,” or even, “I was never religious”, there is always a way back. When the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ (peace and blessings be upon him) tells us, “Allah is happier about the repentance of one His slaves, than one of you would be about finding your camel which had strayed away from you in the middle of the desert,” (agreed upon). He ﷺ is also talking to those of us who have strayed. Tawba is to return. It is not simply to repent after committing a hideous sin, although that is a big part of it. He is also talking to those of us who wonder if we can ever recover or achieve that zeal and energy and purpose. We need to return.

So don’t give up. Don’t give in to that feeling that tells you to do the bare minimum. Allah subhanahu wa ta`ala (exalted is He) would not create you to be a useless addition to this world. You can be something special—something special to Him—if you don’t give up. If you take that step. Why are we reminded by the Prophet ﷺ in so many sayings that Allah (swt) accepts the servant who returns? Why are we told when we come one step closer to Allah (swt), He comes to us at speed? It is to remind us that Allah (swt) wants us to reach our potential, to take that first step despite the fact that the first step might be the hardest.

If you haven’t woken up for fajr (the pre-dawn prayer) for years, set five alarms today. Make a sincere du`a’ (supplication) to Allah (swt) before you sleep. Do it over and over again. Seek forgiveness and plead with Him to let you pray. You will not be disappointed. If you once had a big dream for your community but were dejected by people telling you to “be real,” pick up where you left off. Even if they are right and you never make it, because your intention was for Him, you already made it. Any achievement in this dunya (worldly life) is temporary, but “[…] indeed, the home of the Hereafter – that is the [eternal] life, if only they knew.” (Qur’an 29:64)

Don’t give in. “[…] Despair not of relief from Allah. Indeed, no one despairs of relief from Allah except the disbelieving people.” (Qur’an 12:87)

Part I

By Eyad Alnaslah

“Congratulations on your offer,” read the email, after the Vice President called to congratulate me and ask when I planned on starting with the firm.

I read the email three, maybe four times. It was an offer from one of the biggest investment firms in the world. It was an unmatchable offer that came with a six-digit salary, not including bonuses, from a firm overlooking the mesmerizing Southern California beaches.

I initially interviewed with this firm to see what other opportunities were out there in the market. Though I had no need to leave my current job, I wanted to refresh my interview skills, meet new professionals in my industry and maybe consider an offer – which I recommend all my brothers, sisters and colleagues to do once in a while.

The offer then became a reality. The salary, the prestige, the connections, the beach all floated by in my head. But I needed to clear that out of my mind – quickly.

The firm I interviewed with generates its revenue primarily from bonds and other debt investments – investments deemed impermissible in Islam since the profits are considered to be riba (monetary interest). My job as the senior accountant would not be on the investments side (trading bonds and debt investments), but rather working in operations and financial reporting. My salary, however, would be from the revenue generated from these investments.

This firm is said to be “worshipped on Wall Street.” However, I had to remember the One I worship, and remember what pleases and displeases Him! Indeed those who engage in what pleases Allah subhanahu wa ta`ala (exalted is He) have the ultimate prestige and wealth, and those who displease Him set themselves up for poverty and destruction. Allah (swt) reminds us:

“Satan promises you with poverty and orders you to immorality, while Allah promises you forgiveness from Him and bounty. And Allah is all-Encompassing and Knowing.” (Qur’an 2:268)

Allah (swt) blesses us with wealth, each in a different way, in different capacities, to see what will we do with this wealth. We should ultimately use it to continue worshipping Him in various ways, not allow the dollar to consume our lives and make us forget Allah (swt).

I continued reading over the offer letter, and then, given my potential role and responsibilities, did some research regarding the permissibility of working in such investment firms. There were so many opinions on this topic, each with its own references and rebuttals. Then I began to fall into what is known as “confirmation bias,” a state in which one searches and identifies only the information that reaffirms his or her own predetermined beliefs and opinions. The offer was enticing, and so I began to look for sources that would grant my job its permissibility. This mentality, as I knew yet still began to fall into, is very dangerous for the heart, and especially detrimental to someone seeking to learn and educate himself or herself. There is no real, substantial education if one remains close-minded to intellectual debate and conversation. This mentality can also lead one to start compromising his or her principles – justifying something that is impermissible and beginning to believe that it is allowed, only to serve one’s interests, feelings, beliefs or desires.

I had exactly one week to make a decision to accept or decline the offer. The following thoughts roamed my head for days –

“I will be able to represent Muslims and share my knowledge of finances with them!” I was not sure how, but I was telling myself that this could be my excuse to accept the job. I erased this from my thought process.

“Interest is everywhere, you cannot avoid it.” That is not true. There are plenty of opportunities for someone to work for a respectable firm and make a respectable income. Alhamdulillah (praise be to God), I have a good job and I am happy. There is no necessity or excuse to justify taking this job.

“I would not be actively engaged in riba, my job would be far removed from the four categories of those cursed (in a Prophetic tradition or hadith) by engaging in riba – the receiver, the giver, the writer (of the agreement/transaction), and the witnesses.” In reality, I was actually too close to riba as my salary would be directly derived from riba. The Prophet ﷺ (peace be upon him) described the spread of riba like the spread of dust; I may not be in the dirt (riba) but I would be close enough that the dirt’s dust would reach me. In any case, did I really want to work in and contribute to a system that is based on riba and encourages investors to make profits from what displeases Allah (swt)? No, thanks.

A distant relative found out about my offer and told me, “Man, you should take it! Any girl will accept you [for marriage] with that kind of cash… You can buy her the biggest rock and throw the nicest wedding party.” I will share my reflection on this in Part II.

As for the job offers that we Muslims living in the West are presented with, I would like to give an example to everyone, specifically those of our dear sisters who do not work themselves, because we care about them and want there to be more understanding between Mars and Venus.

Do you know how at times it can be really challenging for sisters to wear the hijab (headscarf) and dress modestly? It can be especially hard when they go out to shop and have to find something that is Islamically acceptable, but a lot of things out there are not. They have to really look for clothes that are modest and even have to alter some clothes to make it happen. Sometimes they find the right fit or style and that makes their lives easier, and other times it is not that easy. Maybe sometimes in their heads, they try to justify a certain skirt or blazer, but in fact know it should probably be a little bit looser or less attention-grabbing. It is an obligation to wear the hijab and they want to make sure it is done correctly to please Allah (swt), right?

A similar struggle is experienced by a working Muslim when making sure that his or her income is Islamically permissible and that the fabric of the income is halal (permissible). We want to make sure that it pleases Allah (swt) because we want His blessings and to be rewarded for spending on our families, for the community and in charity from a halal income. There may be times when we have to let go of a certain job (like sisters may have to let go of a skirt) because the income or job is really not halal. In my case, I tried to justify, out of my weakness, a non-halal income, but thankfully I was guided and reminded by those close to me that it really was not acceptable. So I put that job offer back on the rack, trusting that Allah (swt) has the best in store for me and everyone now and in the future.

Therefore, I had to wake up. I told myself, despite the temptation and pressure, “Dude! Your salary would be coming from riba! Stop trying to justify the job just because it is a great offer!” Although I would not have been actively or directly engaging in riba, which is heavily denounced in the Qur’an and our Islamic faith, I might have been on occasion, and I did not want to build my life on something doubtful. I definitely did not want to stand in front of Allah (swt) with this either.

This concept is called wara’ (ورع) in Islam – an extra step to stay away from something, even if may be permissible, with the concern that it may lead to something impermissible, and in doing so staying away from the doubtful.

Our faith is at stake when we try to justify things that displease Allah (swt). After all, on the Day of Judgment, everyone will be asked about their decisions and actions. On that Day, Allah (swt) will ask about four things, as said in a Prophetic saying, one of which is our wealth, how we obtained it and how we spent it. Was I willing to stand in front of Allah (swt) and try to justify an income that was generated from interest? No, thanks.

There were three profound ahadith (narrations) that guided me—and all guidance is from Allah (swt)— in addition to the advice of scholars and close brothers whom I consulted—to deny this “great” offer.

“The halal is clear and the haram (impermissible) is clear, and between them are matters unclear that are unknown to most people. Whoever is wary of these unclear matters has absolved his religion and honor. And whoever indulges in them has indulged in the haram. It is like a shepherd who herds his sheep too close to preserved sanctuary, and they will eventually graze in it. Every king has a sanctuary, and the sanctuary of Allah is what He has made haram. There lies within the body a piece of flesh. If it is sound, the whole body is sound; and if it is corrupted, the whole body is corrupted. Verily this piece is the heart.” (Bukhari, Muslim)

With the guidance of Allah (swt), I decided to play it safe in the gray zone, decline the offer, and hope that Allah (swt) counts me among those that are honored, trying my best to protect my heart. There was too much ambiguity regarding its permissibility. To me, my heart did not feel settled taking this job. It was too risky and it would risk my relationship with Allah (swt). As a brother advised me, sometimes consulting your heart is the best way to go. This is actually part of the second hadith!

“Consult your heart. Righteousness is that about which the soul feels at ease and the heart feels tranquil. And wrongdoing is that which wavers in the soul and causes uneasiness in the chest, even though people have repeatedly given their legal opinion [in its favor].” (Musnad, Imam Ahmad and Al-Darimi)

And the third awesome hadith –

“Verily you will not leave something for the sake of Allah except that He compensates you with     something better.” (Musnad, Imam Ahmad)

There are plenty of (better) opportunities out there besides this firm, no matter how big and prestigious it is. Allah (swt) is bigger than them, and He is the one Who honors. Allah (swt) is wealthier than them, and He is the one Who provides. Indeed, the Prophetic advice is the best advice.

Allah’s (swt) promise and offer is bigger than what any firm can promise or offer you. If we dedicate our lives and money for Allah (swt), He offers a salary no rational person can turn down; it really is an unmatchable salary offer – Jannah (Paradise).

A special thanks to Dr. Monzer Kahf (Professor, Qatar Faculty of Islamic Studies), Br. Sabih Syed (Vice President, TCW Los Angeles), and Br. Omar Amin (Advisory Manager, PwC) for their advice in helping me make the right decision about the job offer, and a special thanks to Dr. Imad Bayoun (UC Riverside; Lecturer, Muslim American Society – MAS) and Sheikha Muslema Purmul (Al Azhar, Cairo) for editing this article.

(Please note that everyone’s circumstances are different and that this article is the opinion and conclusion that I have reached after my research. I would advise everyone for their specific situation to seek qualified scholarly opinions, preferably from those that have the knowledge and experience of Islamic law and the financial/economic/corporate law of their respective country and situation.)

It had been an exceptionally hard day for me, about 3 years ago. Everything seemed to be out of place and one thing after another was going wrong. I headed over to the University Center to get a bite to eat—maybe food would calm my nerves. At the time, I had been wearing niqab (the face veil), but that was the least of my worries, or so I thought. As I stood in line to get my food, I glanced behind me and noticed a few Muslim brothers. I was about to extend my salaam (greetings of peace) to them when I caught wind of what they were saying. They were talking about ME! ‘Why does she think she can dress that way? Who does she think she is?!’ On normal days, their comments would have had no effect on me, but on that day, they went straight to my heart. Perhaps their comments were like the straw that broke the camel’s back, because instantly tears began to flow down my face, which of course no one could see. I left the food line, disheartened, and walked away hoping to find a place to be alone and be at peace at last.

I walked for a good 5 minutes, trying to compose myself before I got to my destination. I reached the building I was aiming for and began to walk up the stairs as I felt a tap on my shoulder and a whispered, “Wait!” I turned around and found a woman I didn’t know, panting, trying to catch her breath. I waited until she was able to speak and what she said next took me by complete surprise. She looked me in the eye and said, “I’ve been following you, trying to catch up to you for 5 minutes! I just wanted you to know that I admire your strength in wearing what you believe in. More power to you and may the God you believe in bless you.” And that was it. That’s all she said. She turned around and walked away, without telling me her name or wanting anything from me. Instantly my pain began to melt and I began to smile. It was her kind words that made my day so much brighter. It was her kind words that reminded me why I was doing what I was doing: God. The woman didn’t know how much I needed to hear some sort of uplifting words. She didn’t know that I was having a horrible day, but she saw an opportunity to say something good, and she seized it.

It was on that day that I realized the power of words. The power that our beloved Prophet ﷺ (peace be upon him) was talking about when he said: “Indeed a servant will speak a word pleasing to Allah that he thinks to be insignificant, but because of it Allah raises him by many degrees. And indeed a servant will speak a word displeasing to Allah that he thinks to be insignificant, but because of it, He will consign him to the Hellfire.” So many times we say things that we don’t think through. We don’t think about the effects of our words. Those brothers, whom I hold no grudge against alhamdulilah (praise be to God), probably forgot the conversation they had minutes after I left, not realizing the weight of their words. And that woman probably forgot the conversation we had, minutes after she left, not realizing the weight of her words. But as we can see, years later, I still have not forgotten.

It is through such an example that we can come to think that a word is never too small to be hurtful nor too small to be beneficial. We should consider any word that we speak, out of fear that this word may be the word that causes our ultimate destruction. We should rush to say any kind and helpful word that we can, out of hope that this word will be the cause of our rising in rank. May Allah subhanahu wa ta`ala (exalted is He) cause us to be of those who are raised in rank by our words and never be condemned to hell-fire.

“Handle them carefully, for words have more power than atom bombs.” —Pearl Strachan

“The meaning of life is to find your gift.

The purpose of life is to give it away.”

—Zig Ziglar

My teacher asked us to reflect on the above quote. It reminded me of this quote by Rumi that I have on my study wall:

“Everyone has been made for some particular work

And the desire for that work has been put into every heart.”

There is so much profundity in this notion. If each person pursued the concept with honesty and determination and found his or her own answer to it, each life could become a joyous outpouring of gratitude to the Divine!

Imagine finding the time and the ‘silence of mind’ to sit and ponder on what this means for oneself. Imagine then having the courage to make space in one’s life to nurture the talent that is your own special gift of Divine favour. Imagine how generous God is, that He gave everyone a special gift that only they are aware of inside themselves, and then on top of that He gave them the love for its development!

Most of us hide this inner knowledge from ourselves and others. It is a kind of kufr (denial). Just as we are prone to deny God, so we are prone to shy away from acknowledging His gifts to us. Those who are more creative by temperament sometimes cannot hide them (it would drive them crazy to do so!), but even so, they often do not develop them to the point of their being useful to the soul and beneficial to others.

Sometimes other people, or life itself, metaphorically beat the love of our gift out of us. We end up so spiritually downtrodden that we forget what used to make our hearts come alive. (The Qur’anic phrase ‘wronging themselves’ comes to mind.)

Did you love to draw/paint/dance/ride/build/explore when young? Are you a people/animal/nature lover? Did you always know that you were good at making others feel at ease or feel good about themselves? Do you love to ferret away at finding interesting facts, or meticulously manufacture things of beauty? All these things are gifts and all these things can be used for benefit of the self and others.

Whether your God-given talent becomes a career or remains a hobby, it is your intent and joy in it that matter. How can you use your talent to better the world? How can this talent that is from the Divine be utilised to make you grow closer to its Giver? The first answer leads to the second. If you can spend some time pondering and then implementing a way to do good with your special gift, and if you carry this out with sincere intent for God and concern for the world – and if you do it all with joy and gratitude – then the result will be His drawing you closer to Him.

It is really a win-win situation. Do what you love to do, with a focused and joyful intent, and travel up through the spiritual ranks to reach God. How can we even resist such a bargain when He only asks us to do what He has instilled in us to love to do anyway? Could He have been any kinder in His Benevolence?

There are too many people around these days who seem to take delight in telling us that what we love to do is haram (forbidden). They seem to draw pleasure from frowning and killing the joy. This is because their own joy has been stifled for so long that they cannot let others have some of it.

The voice of my teacher comes to mind. There are very few things that are haram, he says; a few foods and drinks, gambling, riba (usury), and anything in the arena of illicit sexual encounters. These are all things that people whose hearts are joyful would not find pleasure in engaging with anyway. Perhaps it is because the haram are so few that some people seem to delight in hunting around for more things to add to the list!

What if the frowning and finger-wagging people turned into smiling people (it is sunnah – tradition of the Prophet ﷺ – after all!) and said to you, “Follow your heart and worship your Lord through the gifts and talents that He gave you.” Imagine how empowered that could make you feel. There is no ‘one size fits all’ to the extramural parts of religious life. When we look at the lives of successful worshippers of the past that is what we see.

In days gone by, pious Muslims would acquire some knowledge or a skill and then travel and ‘seek their fortune’ just as people of all faiths did. They would set off without fear, completely relying on God. They would do some work or trade along the way, and have great adventures—all the while learning about life, purifying their characters and making the internal journey to travel closer to their Lord.

Or, they might stay put and become craftsmen and artisans, making their daily toils an expression of love for the Divine. They would have the mindset of gratitude for the skills they had learned and would offer up their effort of beauty to God, knowing that when people benefitted from them, they would have fulfilled their own divine purpose.

People have moved a long way away from such lofty mindsets. Work, careers, craftsmanship, artistry; they have all become a means to material gain or to building egos. They have lost the soul that was originally imbibed within them.

Yet it is possible to return to and revive the soul of our endeavours, with a fairly simple tweak of orientation. Turn your face towards God and realise that He gave you talents. Take some quiet time to sit and think deeply about what you love to do and what you are good at. And then take it a step further and think how you can better the world with it. Find your place with your Lord, and see what He has given you to do. Put a Rumi quote up on your wall, and begin. The journey is guaranteed to be joyful!

Originally published in September 2012

By Anonymous

I had begun to think of this room as the ‘Yellow room’. Subconsciously we give things names. It had become a second home to us in a move nobody wanted to make. We would arrive early in the morning and find a vacant spot by the window seats and sit down, contemplating why we were here, staring at the walls painted a cheerful, buttercup yellow, offset by the white wooden fittings; the empty bookshelf, the windowsills beneath the large sash windows, the seats—single, twos and threes.

Within a few moments we ventured down the corridor to my father’s room. We’d place our bags quietly beside his bed, arrange the chairs and settle ourselves to stay close to him for the rest of the day. Most of the time he was asleep, just like the other patients in this ward. But this was unlike any other ward in the hospital—it was a departure lounge; a place of surrender, the end of the battle with terminal illness. Each patient was quietly slipping away. Visitors were, for the most part, quiet too. What does one say when they witness the process of dying? Room after room was silent.

Every few hours I returned to the yellow room—the plaque on the door read ‘Family Room’—a cruel irony for families about to lose a member.  For the past three days, the silence was broken; there were raised voices, and the room was filled with conversations that sounded like questions, regrets, anger, and desperation. In the morning, around four members of a new family arrived, which grew to an average of ten by the afternoon. Sometimes they all spoke at once, then they’d fall silent for a few moments and begin their discussions again.

One young girl, probably in her late teens, sobbed aloud and spoke in bitter, short inflections. She cradled a baby girl in her arms, and set her gaze on her as her tears fell on the baby’s hair. Often, one of the older ladies, who sat with her husband, would take the baby from her and feed her a bottle or bob her up and down the yellow room. I didn’t recognise their language and guessed it was Greek, or from an Eastern European country, perhaps. What did it matter—anguish is a common language—everyone around could understand their pain. Over those three days, elderly relatives came in too; we smiled at each other, but there was no other communication.  The rest of the family never made any eye contact, we never spoke.

Then, on the fourth day, as I was about to enter the yellow room for a cup of tea, the lady who walked the baby approached me. She told me it was her sister who was here with a recurring brain tumour. It was this sister’s baby they were all looking after. Their youngest sister, the teenager, she continued to tell me, was finding it the hardest. Then she hesitated and said:

‘My sister’s about to go. We’re Muslim…We’re Turkish. If you don’t mind, can you stand by the door and say some prayers. I want someone to say some prayers…She’s going. Please.’

I was overwhelmed by what she told me and didn’t quite understand: ‘You mean prayers from the Qur’an—recite Qur’an?’

‘Yes, yes—we’re Muslim. Not now, come in 5 minutes—it’s that room,’ and she pointed to a door ajar. Inside I caught a glimpse of the patient’s husband, sitting on a chair beside the bed, wringing a small towel as he fought his tears.

Five minutes later I stood outside the door. I started to recite in the quietest whisper. I sensed the lady didn’t want other members of the family to see me there. In the intensity of the moment, and the fear of any of her family members coming out and getting upset, I wasn’t sure which surah (chapter) I began with, but I recited. Then more conscious of what I was doing, I began again, and recited Surah Fatihah (The Opening, Qur’an 1) slowly. And then Ayatul Kursi (Qur’an 2:255), the last four surahs of the Qur’an (Qur’an 111, 112, 113, 114), the last verses of Surah Baqarah (Qur’an 2:285-286), then the few du`a’s (supplications) I knew, then back to Surah Fatihah. For a moment doubts raced through my mind: was this the right thing to do, should I be standing here, what difference was it going to make? But I didn’t dwell on these questions. The enormity of the angel of death being in that room dawned on me in those minutes of being truly awake to what life is, to what death is,  and for what our souls yearn.

I don’t know how long I spent outside her door, maybe four minutes. But, it was a time outside of time. Something between living and dying, an experience that hasn’t faded in the five years that have gone by, but only intensified. And the memory has intensified because society and culture for the masses does everything to make us forget. Contrasts sharpen our perception.

We are beguiled into believing this world will never end; the luxuries, the ‘fun’ that prefixes every product and action, the food, fashion and music will make this world eternal. Layer after layer comes between the soul and its true nature, depleting it, cheating it and most tragically detaching it. But there’s something about death that cuts through all the clamour of the world; where our souls are touched and want that sacred connection.

‘So where are you going?’ (81:26) we are asked in the Qur’an repeatedly, following vivid images of the Last Day and the hereafter. And in the very next surah, Al Infitar—we are awoken again:

‘When the sky breaks apart

And when the stars fall, scattering,

And when the seas are erupted

And when the [contents of] graves are scattered,

A soul will then know what it has put forth and kept back.

O mankind, what has deceived you concerning your Lord, the Generous,

Who created you, proportioned you, and balanced you?

In whatever form He willed He has assembled you.

No! But you deny the Recompense.’  (82: 1-9)

Surah after surah we are reminded, questioned, guided, but we forget—as we fall back on the maxim ‘We’re only human.’ Allah knows we’re human, and that’s why we are reminded. Before it’s too late.

Those few minutes outside the door passed and I found myself sitting on the window seat in the yellow room. I looked out on to London’s stylish South Kensington streets; cafés sprawled on to the pavements serving customers with their designer dogs and pushchairs, and coiffured silver-haired ladies spoke with animated expressions. Inside, for the rest of the evening the family were silent. The men folk sat outside on the steps of the hospital building, smoking. The voices, the intonation, the pain had melted away, somewhere beyond our perception. The yellow room was silent once more.