By Louiza Chekhar

“It sounds to me like all we need to do is just… be normal?”

“That’s exactly it! It’s all about being normal.”

This was the exchange between a shaykh (religious scholar) and an attendee at a course in London last year. He and a fellow teacher had just spoken about how our community needs to become better at listening to, understanding and accepting others, and just how far a little compassion can go – a hug from a stranger was instrumental in the shaykh’s own journey to Islam. My fellow attendee had listened to these eloquent speeches and summed them up in two simple words: ‘Be normal.’

In fact, I have heard this lesson given several times, each in its own way. Imam Suhaib Webb covered it a couple of years ago in a lecture entitled ‘Be Human’. One of my own teachers in London gave a class on nasiha (advice) last year, telling us how it was part of the sunnah (tradition) of the Prophet ﷺ (peace be upon him) to know and understand people and their situations. This is why there are so many ahadith (prophetic narrations) on how to be ‘the best’ – “The best of you is slow to get angry and quick to cool down,” ((Tirmidhi)) “The best of you are those who are best to their families,” ((Tirmidhi)) “The best of you are those who feed others” ((Abu Ya’la)) … The list goes on. The Prophet ﷺ knew to whom he was speaking in each instance and what they needed to hear, and he gave advice accordingly. He once forbade a young man from kissing his wife while fasting, but gave permission to an old man to do the same, as he was less likely to become carried away ((Ahmad)) – he understood that different circumstances call for different measures.

These seem like really obvious points: that Islam, like the world, is not black and white; that apart from a few key, unanimously agreed-upon tenets of faith and practice, there are shades of grey in most areas; that the best way to relate to people and help them is to know them, listen to them, understand and care for them. Yet the same lessons keep being repeated for a reason – that people continue to act like the brother Imam Suhaib describes in his lecture, telling a newly-converted sister, about whom he knew absolutely nothing, that “her dress is cursed by Allah subhanahu wa ta`ala (exalted is He).”

But why are some Muslims like this? Shaykh Hamza Yusuf once observed that many young extremist Muslims are trained in the sciences, in which questions have clearly definable right or wrong answers, rather than the arts or humanities, where ambiguities, differing points of view and multiple interpretations are deeply explored. In my experience, it is not just about academic studies, but cultural experience too. Despite living in the UK, some Muslims I know have grown up cocooned within their own micro-culture; they socialised only with others of the same ethnic and cultural background both inside and outside school, and were exposed only to the Islamic practices and teachings common in their parents’ homelands. They are some of the loveliest and most sincere people I know masha’Allah (as Allah has willed), but they are often shocked and uncertain about the way my family (mixed-race, with one convert parent) does things. Even though we are all living within the boundaries of Islam and what is halal (permissible), they find it difficult to accept practices outside of their own madhhab (school of jurisprudence), culture, or family’s way of doing things.

Hearing lectures, attending classes and studying the seerah (biography) of the Prophet ﷺ are all great ways to understand the necessity of ‘being human’ from an Islamic perspective – but these qualities of being open-minded, accepting and understanding should also be developed naturally, as part of our personalities and characters:

1. Study arts and humanities: If you want to study History, Literature or Sociology, go for it. These subjects teach us to see the same events, behaviours or writings from various perspectives, exploring the multiple ways they can be interpreted and the impact they have on different people. Parents: please don’t push your children into Medicine or Engineering if it is not their forte; we need more Muslims in the arts!
2. Make friends with a variety of people: Don’t stick to those from your own background – don’t even just stick to Muslims. The more we get to know different people, the more we realise just how beautifully diverse yet equally valuable Allah (swt) has made the world, accepting differences without shock or distrust: “And of His signs is the creation of the heavens and the earth and the diversity of your languages and your colours.” (Qur’an, 30:22)
3. If you can’t do 1 or 2, read fiction: Some people are natural scientists, which is just as well, or we would not have any doctors or engineers! Equally, we are not all fortunate enough to live in culturally diverse areas where we can make friends of various backgrounds – but one thing we can all do is go to the local library and pick up a novel. As a child, I read books for hours on end, getting lost in countless fictional worlds. I saw inside the hearts of characters unlike anyone I knew in real life, learning to put myself in their shoes and view situations and experiences through different eyes. I travelled in my mind to far-away countries in which I have still never set foot, and grew to know and love these fictional people and places. I understood, accepted and appreciated them in all their diversity, cultivating a much broader worldview than my upbringing in suburban London alone could have given me.

Relating to others on a human level is crucial: in that class on advice, my teacher told us of a scholar who once refused to give him and a group of students nasiha even when they asked him to. He protested that because he did not know them and their situation or needs, he could not be sure to give advice that would cause more good than harm. I pray that we are all able to ‘be normal’, understand and accept one another, and live up to Allah’s (swt) vision for mankind: “O mankind, indeed We have created you from male and female and made you peoples and tribes that you may know one another,” (some translations add “not that you may despise one another”) (Qur’an, 49:13).

By Rubab Shahid

To some, happiness is parallel to success and achievement. The satisfaction you feel when completing a difficult task, or when you accomplish a goal you had been striving to attain for a long time. Others will equate happiness with love, emotions of care and affection. Yet others believe happiness is escaping a difficult situation. These are all occasions of joy, as they should be. However, there is another type of happiness that all of us yearn for: the happiness that comes with finality, an ultimate satisfaction.

All of the types of happiness and the search that precedes them are in fact the hunt for something deeper; when we say we wish to be happy, what we mean is that we wish to be content. Content with who we are, what we look like, with our ways of speaking, our friends and our reputation.

Often, in trying to attain these things, we run after things that soon lose their value or perform acts we later regret. When our goals and desires clash with whatever life has in store for us we get depressed, feeling like the happiness we yearn for is just an illusion, like everything we do ends up going wrong anyway. When everything looks like it is just going to be messed up and the current will always be against us, giving up looks like the easiest way out. When everyone’s expectations seem like too much, we often decide to let all of it go. It’s the reason people turn to drugs—to numb the pain they have suffered, whether self-inflicted or inflicted by others. More than marijuana or cocaine, self-pity is the most addicting of narcotics. Self-pity arises when we believe that our problems exist because we have some innate problem, that we are not good enough, or that there is something wrong with who we are. That nature and nurture together just made us messed up people. It is easy to believe that you were just destined to be a failure. It is definitely easier than taking responsibility and hundreds of times easier than being an instrument of change.

But the truth is that God does not create failures. The same hand that created you created the masterful system of the universe that is ever bound in scientific law, where nothing is random, where everything has a purpose. Maybe you are angry with Allah subhanahu wa ta`ala (exalted is He) because you believe that He made life hard for you and that He caused you to suffer so much. A lot of the time the painful things that occur are not immediately due to our own mistakes (or so we believe), so the first person we blame is Him.

Everyone has events happen in their life that hurt. Deaths, abuse, poverty, depression, to name but a few. And it is hard. It’s so hard to have hope sometimes, and we find ourselves fighting to stay positive. Sometimes, maybe most of the time, we feel abandoned, alone, and neglected. We feel like nobody cares or ever will. It exhausts us to be so angry and hateful, but the pain does not end, always threatening to drag us under. That black hole will always exist unless we find a way to drag ourselves out. But we can never do it alone.

I don’t know how you see predestination, but to me, it means that certain events have specifically been targeted to time periods in our life, whether difficult or joyful. All these events have been specially packaged for us for three reasons, all of which are intended for our benefit.

Firstly, they are manifestations of the truth that life is a test. In a test you must face problems and obstacles that you must overcome, and the bigger the reward the harder the test. The test separates the strong from the weak, and allows you to show what you are made of. Through the way we react to the tests He sends our way, Allah (swt) sorts us into successes and failures (like a Teacher, silently). Remember, Allah was the One who made the obstacle; but it is your choice whether you sit and cry and feel sorry for yourself, or stand up and take benefit from the situation. As the most Merciful, Allah (swt) has written your test because He knows you have the ability to pass it. Will you utilize your abilities or let them go to waste inside of you? Would you let down both God and yourself?

Secondly, bad things happen to us to save us from worse things. For example, a man wants to go visit his mother on Eid day, and she lives very far away. So he books a plane ticket and puts his ticket in his pants pocket, then goes to bed. The next morning he wakes up, puts on his pants and drives to the airport. When he arrives, extremely excited, he is told to take out his ticket. He reaches into his pocket and suddenly realizes his pocket is empty. It turns out that he wore the wrong pair of pants. If he goes back home now, he will miss his flight.

Now he could sit down and either start blaming himself or blaming God for his misfortune. He goes home thinking that God is unfair. He wanted to go help his mom; was that not a good deed? The next morning, he finds that the plane he would have been on crashed halfway to its destination.

Often it is not so obvious, but the principle is the same. Just because we fail to realize something does not mean that it is not the case. Allah (swt) sees everything with a bird’s eye view, while we only see the things that are directly in front of us. Try thinking back on things that happen to you and make a habit of being hopeful. Being positive does not change what is happening, but it makes you a stronger and happier person. Do not forget to be patient, too, because often things only reveal themselves at the end of the story.

The third reason bad things happen is sort of an extension of the first, but also my favorite, and the one that gives me most hope. Allah (swt) puts us in hard situations so that we turn back to Him; we are wandering around earth, trying to plunge ourselves headfirst into hellfire by our actions and open disobedience, and He takes pity on us. How is that pity manifested, you might ask?

It is human instinct to turn to a higher power when we are in distress, hence the saying, “There are no atheists in a foxhole.” We ignore God in our everyday lives, stubbornly believing everything we have is a result of our own intelligence. But then we blame all misfortunes on Allah (swt), which is quite unfair. The most tranquil way of life lies in the obedience of Allah (swt), and that is not a statement based on blind faith. The manufacturer of a product best knows how it should operate. We humans—ingenious creations with a system unparalleled by any technology just under the flesh of our skin—also have a manufacturer, who sent us an instructor, Rasul Allah [the Messenger of God] ﷺ (peace be upon him) with an instruction manual, the Noble Qur’an. The Qur’an is not just an instruction manual but letters from Allah to us with the solution to every problem, the cure for every disease, the light for every darkness. It is through hardship that Allah calls us back to what will benefit us the most.

True happiness comes from light—spiritual light that permeates our souls and lights the way through a forest of uncertainty and self-doubt. Perhaps a scripture might comment on the sudden shift from scientific method to abstract concept, and to that person who has paid such close attention, I ask: is happiness a scientific or psychological phenomenon? If you see happiness as nothing but the release of hormones into the bloodstream, see humans as machines playing a part in a gruesome play for no purpose, then it will be true that happiness is unattainable. But those who are willing to reach for hope and not just give up due to prejudice or laziness will find it with Allah, without a single shred of doubt.

All you have to do to begin is Read.

by Askia Nasir Bilal

Its Words are ten stone slabs in the bosom piece

Air

mountain pegs holding my celestial body in place

coral reef, beached whale bones

bleached pale

poems can’t touch the place its page reached
“Read!”

was the Word that squeezed free his rib cage

The seed rooted and breathed branches across ages

planted an oasis in the desert-chested

took its seat in the minds of peasants to sages

who halt and fall at all corners of earth

their foreheads transformed to lanterns

Its Words are not the spells of a soothsayer

not a madman poet who sought profit

they are Lanterns from on High

cast into our clay frames where they hang shimmering

meteors passing through our frozen membranes

floodlights to consciousness

Its Majestic Speech

would make skies weep and bow

a lightning bolt to the boulder-breasted
God Willing

to those who ingest its message

it gives their spines polished posture

God Willing

those whose heart-tongues host its words

their clay forms are molded into noble vessels

God Willing

It draws the mirage out of mankind

strikes the living dead and mends severed body-hearts

Its Letters — ladders leading to higher selves

God Willing

“Read!” was the Word that made his rib cage its throne

Nor was he known as a liar

A Warning-harbinger, Glad tidings

Its passages lead passengers to meaning

It vibrates through our barren vessels until

we are shattered whole

“Taught man what he knew not”

like stones thrown at our glasshouse false selves

showing an Opening to True Purpose.