Ideas to change your life

  بِسْمِ اللّهِ الرَّحْمـَنِ الرَّحِيمِ  أَوَلَا يَعۡلَمُونَ أَنَّ ٱللَّهَ يَعۡلَمُ مَا يُسِرُّونَ وَمَا يُعۡلِنُونَ  Awalā yaʿlamūna anna Allāha yaʿlamu mā yusirrūna wa mā yuʿlinūn. Do they not know, then, that God is aware of all that they would conceal as well as of all that they bring into the open? (2:77) There are verses that inform us. There are verses that warn us. And there are verses that remove the wall we keep trying to build between our inner life and our outer performance. This verse does exactly that. أَوَلَا يَعۡلَمُونَ Do they not know? The question is not asked because Allah is seeking information. The question is asked because human beings often live as though the most important truths they know have somehow become inactive. We know that Allah sees. But we behave as though the room is empty. We know that Allah hears. But we speak as though the private conversation has no witness. We know that Allah knows the heart. But we polish the surface...

بِسْمِ اللّهِ الرَّحْمـَنِ الرَّحِيمِ وَبِٱلْـَٔاخِرَةِ هُمْ يُوقِنُونَ Wa bil-ākhirati hum yūqinūn. “And of the Hereafter they are certain.” Sūrat al-Baqarah 2:4 There are verses that describe belief.  And there are verses that describe the weight of belief. This small phrase from Sūrat al-Baqarah does not merely say that the people of taqwā believe in the Hereafter. It says: They are certain of it. Yūqinūn. They do not treat the Hereafter as an inherited idea, a theological ornament, a word from childhood, or a chapter in an Islamic studies book. They are certain. The unseen has become morally visible to them.  The future has entered the present. The Day of Judgment is not merely something they affirm with the tongue. It has begun to discipline the hand, soften the heart, restrain the appetite, purify the intention, and reorder the imagination. This is yaqīn. Certainty. In Rūḥ al-Bayān , while commenting on this phrase, Ismāʿīl Ḥaqqī al-Bursawī pauses over the meaning of yaq...

بِسْمِ اللّهِ الرَّحْمـَنِ الرَّحِيمِ هَلْ أَتَىٰ عَلَى ٱلْإِنسَانِ حِينٌ مِّنَ ٱلدَّهْرِ لَمْ يَكُن شَيْـًٔا مَّذْكُورًا Hal atā ʿalā al-insāni ḥīnun mina al-dahri lam yakun shayʾan madhkūrā. “Has there not come upon man a period of time when he was not a thing even mentioned?” Sūrat al-Insān 76:1 There are names people give us out of love. Habib.  Shah Sahib.  Sayed. Pir Sahib.  Hazrat.  Baba.  Ustaz. Sir. Teacher Sometimes these words come with affection.  Sometimes with reverence.  Sometimes with cultural habit.  Sometimes with a sincere attempt at adab. And I am grateful for the love inside them. But a title is not a small thing. A title is a garment. Sometimes it warms.  Sometimes it hides.  Sometimes it protects dignity.  Sometimes it distances the heart from the ground. One of my favourite names is much simpler. Mamu. In Urdu and Hindi, mamu means maternal uncle. It is affectionate without being ceremonial.  It is warm...

بِسْمِ اللّهِ الرَّحْمـَنِ الرَّحِيمِ وَإِن تُطِعْ أَكْثَرَ مَن فِى ٱلْأَرْضِ يُضِلُّوكَ عَن سَبِيلِ ٱللَّهِ Wa in tuṭiʿ akthara man fil-arḍi yuḍillūka ʿan sabīlillāh. If you obey most of those on earth, they can lead you away from the path of Allah. Sūrat al-Anʿām 6:116   There is an old story that appears in many clothes. In Idries Shah’s Sufi telling, Khidr warns that the waters of the world will change; one man stores clean water, but later drinks the changed water because he cannot bear being alone in his sanity. ( Internet Archive ) In Kahlil Gibran’s telling, a well is poisoned, the people call the sane king mad, and the king finally drinks from the same well so that the people may say he has recovered. ( Gutenberg Australia ) In Tawfiq al-Hakim’s Arabic play Nahr al-Junun , the river of madness divides a kingdom: almost everyone drinks from it, and the few who do not drink are declared mad by those who have. ( Hindawi ) The Persian proverb says it with simplicity: رفتم...