Numbness overcomes me once I finally see
That I beg for a savior, but it is in vain that I plea.
Storm clouds enshroud the sunrise
As we commence the unveiling of lies.

The pleasure some find in others’ pain
Is a cruelty by which the pretentious kings reign.
It is through the darkness of deceit, I perceive,
That they speak articulately, but only to deceive.

Anguish makes my throat constricted;
Let this be the last time our hearts are conflicted.
As the universe comes crashing to the ground,
Still in false thrones, they wear plastic crowns.

Fire and ice seal up my veins.
There’s a battle within me to keep myself sane.
Shutting our eyes won’t make it disappear;
The world’s overwhelmed with chaos and fear:

There isn’t a head that turns as I walk by,
No friendly smiles, just lonely cries.
Lost in speculation, unaware of the shadows,
Oblivious to the secrets that are hidden below.

Generations pass from the young to the younger,
While everything in this world remains a wonder.
Senses are heightened to the sharpest of sounds;
Their long-lost vows have caused this breakdown.

Surrounded by people yet so alone,
Our hearts transform to ice and stone.
Only As-Salaam can give me peace in my heart.
Ya Allah, don’t let this world tear us apart.

This morning, I try to open my eyes
To the blessings hidden, in disguise,
That reveal the truths that I blatantly deny.
Tears flow from my eyes as I realize:

In this world full of terror, darkness, and bliss,
Beauty and evil somehow coexist.
All praises to He for what we’re given today;
If He wills, tomorrow will be brighter than yesterday.

***

With the masses of turmoil and destruction that arise in the world, it is always reassuring to know that Allah is capable of making everything better. In the midst of a cycle of depression or a bout of worry, instead of turning to material things that can temporarily make us feel better, we fail to realize that there is something much powerful and more healing: hope.

For a long time, because of the difficulties that had accumulated in my life, I lost hope in people, in humanity, and in myself. In doing so, I was losing faith in my Creator. Instead of questioning Him, I should have been submitting to Him. I was at a new school surrounded by very different people. I was trying to pave a lifestyle for myself contrary to the one I was previously engaged in. Alhamdulillah, after experiencing some eye-opening events, I managed to channel my emotions in a more positive direction. Rather than secluding myself and withdrawing from everyone, I aimed to represent Islam in a way that I wished others had done for me while I was experiencing hardship. Through becoming aware of my lack of humility and patience that was hindering me from accomplishment, and through the pain and the sacrifice, I realized that all it takes is a little bit of perseverance and a flicker of hope.

09:46 – I wasn’t getting any closer to my destination. I was still on the bus, stuck in traffic. I had left extra early to be on time but the lecture starts in less than 15 minutes. I started panicking, wondering whether I’d be able to make it on time.

As I waited in distress, it eventually dawned on me that I was worrying over something that was neither under my influence or control. I had jumped on the bus with a ticket of my own doing. Someone else had the wheel.

“That is Allah, your Lord. There is no god but Him, the Creator of everything. So worship Him. He is responsible for everything.” [6:102]

Outside free will, there are some things that we have no control over that have been planned by Allah to come onto our paths, whether it is situations, circumstances or even people we meet.

09:49 – I glanced at my watch again, realizing I had only moved a few metres. The line of cars ahead of me stretched further than I could see.

I was on the highway of highways, bound in an intricate connection of split-second decisions and shouldering  strangers, each in their own cars and on their own ways. Arriving on time depended on how many people decided to take that same route at that time, how quickly the traffic lights changed, whether there were any hurdles such as road works and how promptly my lecturer would start.

Although it was this network of decisions made by people that would affect the outcome of my journey, this scenario was a part of my destiny that had been planned and put into action by my Lord.

Knowing this fact allows us to not worry about what will happen if it is no longer in our hands; everything is left to Allah, the Greatest Planner, so why start panicking?

I rapped my feet against the solid black floor, waiting.

09:53 –I was anxious. At the rate I was travelling, I would reach my destination 20 minutes late.

I pressed my forehead against the cold window and stared into my reflection. My breath fogged up the glass.

They say Allah is not only the best of planners but also wishes the best for the believer at all times, putting our hearts at ease. Allah loves us more than our own parents, sends down blessings and even tests us, for which we will be greatly rewarded if we persevere with patience and dedication. And although turning up to a lecture late and risk getting told off may not seem like the best for me, maybe there was something more. Something like this ayah – “it may be that you hate a thing which is good for you, and it may be that you love a thing which his bad for you. Allah knows and you know not” [2:216].

Having this level of faith – one in which we fully trust and are thankful for everything that happens because it is for our best – is not necessarily an easy task but nevertheless it is an undeniable fact.

“Say: ‘Nothing can happen to us except what Allah has ordained for us. He is Our Master. It is in Allah that the believers should put their trust’” [9:51].

The knowledge that not only is Allah in control but that there is no one who loves us more than Him fuels us. We are able to accept these situations and become happier as a result.

So, I sat in the bus, waiting patiently. Somewhere in the red backlights, I knew that Allah intended for me to reach my destination when He thought best. A green light would bloom.

09:57 – I had accepted I would be late. Time told me.

Still, I thought about my options: I could either remain on the bus or get off and run the distance. It was a sizeable distance by foot  but I estimated that it would probably be faster, although very tiresome.

I asked the driver what he thought I should do. He suggested I get off the bus as the traffic was not moving at all.

At this point I realised that there are some situations where we do have some control. The Prophet (saw) has taught us, in these times to tie our camel and then put our trust in Allah. So even though I knew I would be late, perhaps there was an opportunity to do some damage control?

The traffic had tied my transportation option. So I ran.

09:58 –I ran as fast as I possibly could and I took a different, shorter route. The bus driver held the wheel before – I held my own.

10:09 – I could see my destination a hundred metres away. I was nearly there.

As I harnessed whatever was left of my energy for the final push, I saw the very bus I was sitting on only 10 minutes ago, drive past me. As I chuckled to myself, I saw the driver wave and smile as he went past. We both knew my efforts were in vain and that I could have reached my destination at the same time without all the sweating and breathlessness if I had stayed on the bus.

However, running the distance was neither the wrong choice at the time nor not putting my trust in Allah for I did have a choice, I was not entirely dependent on others. But it did make me appreciate that Allah is in control of all matters.

As the Quran says, “No misfortune can happen on earth or in your souls but is recorded in a decree before we bring it into existence: that is truly easy for Allah: in order that ye may not despair over matters that pass you by” [57:22-23].”

Time passed. Cars passed by. I had zoomed forward on my feet. The bus had stalled in a sea of red lights. We both made it.

Aamir Shamsi and Fatimah Waseem contributed to this short story.

My sister, know that only

a prayer keeps us afloat
for tomorrow:

pulling down, pushing
through the boarded window.

I pack three suitcases
for part two of the world:

sleeping in, cheap wine,
tax forms, sorority girls.

I will miss my little
brother calling adhan.

Will I wake for
fajr, a pink dawn?

In a few months,
I will have all Ramadhan,

alone, to leash myself,
to work my way

through a plastic box
of Palestine’s sweetest

pitted dates.

This summer, I’ll be packing my bags and preparing to step into the real world and its temptations. This poem is about this transition to life as a college student, living away from family for the first time. As a Muslim, this comes with its own set of struggles: will I be able to uphold my Islamic identity and values without supervision? The temptations I’ve faced in my life in a small suburban Muslim household have been muted. A friend asking why I’m not planning to attend prom last week was enough to cause a small panic. But beyond that, there exists another world of “sleeping in, cheap wine, tax forms, frat girls.” When immersed in day-to-day worries about getting to work on time and chasing straight A’s, will I remember to wake up for Fajr and early Qur’an recitation without my mother there with her hawk-eyes?

“Mutual rivalry in seeking increase in worldly possessions diverts you from God,” we are told in Surah At-Takathur. How long until this trial ends? “Till you reach the graves.”

I know that Allah will always know what I am doing and what I am not doing. He knows whether what I do is for Him alone or not, but the fear remains. Without the bubble of an Islamic environment surrounding me, will I be able to commit to a full month of fasting during Ramadhan, as my roommates devour their fast food and I sit alone and study? Am I prepared for this? How can I be prepared for this? Can anyone be prepared for anything?

The Prophet of Allah (peace be upon him) has said, “Whoever says when he leaves his house, ‘In the name of Allah, I have relied on Allah and there is no power nor strength except by Allah’ will be told, ‘You have been guided, spared and protected,’ and Satan will be kept far from him.” And what was Satan’s response? “How can you get at a man who has been guided, spared and protected?” (Abu Dawud)

I began my poem with a reminder – Something we all know, but forget when we most need guidance: “only a prayer keeps us afloat for tomorrow.” Only Allah can protect us. Only he can guide us to the right path.

Nikah is the legal binding of a man and a woman in marriage. This relationship leaves deep impressions in the social life of the partners involved, their children, and the stability of the whole community through the institution of family. Therefore, choosing a spouse is one of the most important decisions we make in our lives. It is for this reason that Islam establishes this relationship to be a sacred bond that provides an individual with numerous things: a halal source of love, affection, sustenance, children, companionship and a path of trials and tribulations that ultimately ends with our Creator. Accordingly, in the Qur’an, it has been termed as a firm pledge:

“…And they (women) had taken from you a firm pledge.” (Al-Nisa 4:21)

Two key elements to any relationship, particularly in marriage, are trust and loyalty. Although we assume that the importance of these elements is ingrained in us through our upbringing, it is a topic that is losing ground in modern day societies. From my observations, I can say with certainty that the breaking of trust and loyalty leads to devastating effects for those involved.

The Prophet (may Allah’s peace and blessings be upon him) reported that Allah said, “Whenever I intend to gather the good of this world and the hereafter for a Muslim, I give him a heart which is humble [to Me], a tongue which praises [Me], a body which can bear [worldly] affliction and a believing wife who is a cause of his pleasure whenever he looks towards her and who protects herself and his property when he is absent.”

This is obviously a duty of the husband as well because trust is an essential constituent of love. When trust is betrayed and faith in one’s spouse is compromised, love loses its very essence. It is the duty of a spouse to remain loyal to their partner at all times, especially during times of difficulty. Although love may be temporarily lost, marriage remains a sacred tie. Every relationship is a profound emotional bond and it is universally acknowledged that being unfaithful is one of the worst crimes one can commit against their partner.

It is important that we conduct ourselves in a manner that is pleasing to Allah as well as an additional duty towards our partner. Eyes can wander and unnecessary interaction with non-mahrams has become the norm. Protecting ourselves from all forms of fitnah and keeping away from such a ‘norm’ is also a part of being loyal.

Harun Yahya once said, “Someone who loves his or her spouse for their belief and character will, in married life, be respectful, loyal, and decent. Losing one’s youth, health, or beauty will not affect the love and consideration among spouses for each other, and neither will losing one’s wealth or social status.” Thus real love between a husband and wife does not rest on material or superficial factors. No matter the circumstance, one should always remain loyal to their partner, even if their relationship may be coming to an end.

Acts of infidelity of every magnitude have become far too common and lost their gravity in today’s society. We see signs of adultery in many places, so much so that they have made their way into comic situations in the media and have slowly become a part of the norm. The days when adultery was considered illegal and punishable are gone. Islam protects communities from such an evil, but we are now facing a situation where infidelity is becoming widespread within the Muslim community as well, especially amongst the younger generations.

In addition to protecting ourselves from fitnah, loyalty entails keeping each other’s intimate affairs private, hiding your partner’s flaws, and not complaining about one’s spouse to others because this would cause great pain and tension between the husband and wife. It also includes, as was mentioned in the hadith, protecting one’s property in the spouse’s absence.

Loyalty is a cause and result of the ideal marital relationship that existed between the Prophet (may Allah’s peace and blessings be upon him) and his wives (may Allah be pleased with them). We need not look further than the example of our Prophet and the Mothers of the Believers to learn how to be a good husband/wife through the stories of untainted love, honesty and sincerity.

Additionally, loyalty can involve keeping a positive attitude among partners. This can be expressed through various ways that provide continuous nourishment and life to the relationship. This is why Islam puts much importance on maintaining a healthy relationship with your partner through kind words, appreciation and affection. Islam truly beautifies marriage and upholds its laws which ensure both partners enjoyment of the wonderful blessing of companionship provided by Allah.

Trust in marriage has a special place. Unlike other relationships that tend to require more time and patience for trust to develop, the one between a man and a woman naturally escalates quickly and strongly. Marriage is the closest bond that one can have with another person. It is one where two people share their joys, their sorrows, their desires, their goals, their highs and their lows with each other. The support, patience, beauty and peace that one finds in marriage are unmatched with any other relationship. A relationship built on the foundations of trust and loyalty will blossom into the most beautiful emotion we can experience: love.

May Allah grant us all a righteous partner who will forever remain loyal, be the coolness of our eyes, the tranquility in our soul and a means by which we can gain the pleasure of Allah and fulfill our duties to Allah.

I would like to end with these words I heard from a sister that summarize the concept of loyalty in love: “Love is honesty without cruelty and loyalty without compromise.”

He gently laid the dried petals into the potpourri vase and swirled through them slightly. As the faint fragrance rose and wafted through the air, his mind drifted back to beloved memories of his childhood. He remembered his parents and how every week his father would bring a bouquet of fresh flowers for his mother. With a smile reserved only for his father, she would gingerly accept them and place them into her favorite vase atop the dining table. For the next week or so, the ornate vase and its encased flowers would serve as the centerpiece of all activity at home. On quiet mornings, he occasionally found his mother seated there, stroking the delicate petals, lost in her reverie.

Ever so often, she would take stems from the vase and place them in other vases and glass cups throughout the house. She would take petals and tie them into her long, flowing hair, use them as ingredients for afternoon tea, and place them secretly into his father’s favorite books and forgotten bills. If any waned in color or life, she would weave those petals into decorations or dry them to make scented potpourri. In the evenings, she would blush when his father came home and cupped her hands with his flower-held ones, entreating her for a leisurely stroll with him through the back garden.

His father loved to surprise his mother with new assortments of flowers from other countries and seasons. Despite her halfhearted protests, he always shared sweet nothings and silly couplets with the family along with the gifted posy, likening a quality he admired in her with the particular flower he brought. On special occasions, his father would pin a boutonnière to his suit, and unbeknownst to anyone outside the family, his mother would wear a matching corsage under her jilbab sleeve after having crafted it the night before.

Flowers truly served an integral part of his family’s life, he reflected, as he closed the lid of the potpourri vase and stepped away. Regrettably, those flowers had not bloomed in his own life and marriage in the same way. It wasn’t that his wife didn’t love flowers; on the contrary, that’s what had brought him and her – the florist’s daughter – together in the first place. No, it was that he found that flowers held a different place in her heart than it did in his. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it though he felt as if the flower served not as an expression of love for her, but life itself.

He didn’t quite notice it in the beginning while the flowers carried them through their wedding and early-married life. During the ceremonies, they were gifted with garlands of gardenias, fountains rung with rows of rosemaries, a honeymoon suite peppered with petals of periwinkles, and a ride home in an auto veiled within vines of violets. When they got around to discussing children names, they went through many glossaries of flowery names. They finally agreed on ‘Zahr’ for a boy and ‘Zahrah’ for a girl as both names meant ‘flower’ in Arabic at their root level.

As the days matured into new seasons, flowers continued to scent their lives throughout. He too matured, beginning to notice that they both carried their own floral perspective. His wife was raised in a background where flowers were not just a nice afterthought but the business of the day. He knew that over the years she helped out at her father’s boutique, her knowledge of flowers had really blossomed. By the time they were married, she was already well versed in flowers’ varieties, their scientific names and compositions, their arrangements and complements, and much more in the lore of flora. After marriage, she continued to work part-time at the boutique due to her sustained passion for these flowers.

As a result of all this, he soon realized that her relationship with flowers was far more transactional and commonplace than it had ever been for him. This led to repeated, heated rows between them and a disregard for each other’s floriated gifts. It was a low point in their marriage as both were regularly left feeling hurt and anguished. She’d end up in tears, and he’d end up in exasperation. Both often questioned if they made the right choice in marrying the other.

For her, she knew no world devoid of flowers. For him, flowers filled the void of his world.

As the wintery seasons cycled into warmer times, their showers of grief subsided and eventually brought forth flowers of love and mercy. The change began for him soon after he ceased comparing his parents’ relationship to his own. He recognized that their lives and situations were different from that of his and his wife’s, and thus attempted to instead appreciate his wife for who she was and what she went through. He delved into botany, assisted his wife and father-in-law at the boutique, and even contrived his own trademark arrangements. Likewise, she endeavored to better understand him and his experiences, and soon discovered his penchant for subtlety. And so, at times when he’d least expect it, she’d trace a flower into the palm of his hands, wake him to the aroma of vivid flowers, pack hand-written messages on petals into his lunch, and even serve him eggs flower side up. In this way, she deftly weaved flowers into their time together that conveyed her love for him over anything material.

Years later, he smiled as he swirled and reminisced over another set of petals in a potpourri vase, but this time in a resort at the Valley of Flowers in India. He had just gifted his wife an arrangement of the most exotic flowers he could gather in the Himalayas, and in return, she had granted him a smile reserved only for him. After all of their years together, her smile still disarmed him and caused him to just stand there, momentarily dazed. She giggled at his reaction and gave him an exaggerated parting wave as she stepped out of the room to ready their baby twins, Zahr and Zahrah, for the trip home. Having recovered slightly, he began to clean up and pack their belongings, still beaming from ear to ear.

He paused when he came upon his final item to pack. He held his mother’s ornate vase in his hands for some time, recalling how she had gifted this to him in the past year. The memory was fresh in his mind. They were at her house for a visit, and after she amused her grandchildren with all sorts of flowered contrivances and tucked them into her bed for a nap, she called him to the dining table. When he arrived, she simply handed the vase to him without saying a word and gingerly clasped his hands with her own flower-held ones. He hugged her tightly, his eyes filling with tears as he realized what this meant.

He softly closed the vase’s lid and stared reflectively at the flower vase, quietly thanking Allah, the Most Beautiful, for having blessed him with remarkable parents and for creating such beauty in the world – from his parents to his wife, and from his children to every flower. He then wrapped the vase in earthy-brown paper and tucked it away in the folds of his wife’s clothes. With the scent of resolve strong in the air, he stepped out of the room, rejoined his family, and soon flew out of the Valley of Flowers.

I.
I walk upon what ceases to remain,
Where neither wall nor beam was spared.
I walk on broken glass of windowpanes
On a night when no one else seems to care.
I cannot tell a soul to protect my name,
This house holds with it a burden of shame.
I recount many a dream of this day,
This rubble, this pungent smell in the air
Of rage, agony, and sullen clouds of grey.
I witness the aftermath of my nightmare.

As I walk through the remnants and traces,
Something ‘neath  the ruin catches my eye,
So I dust off the surface of familiar faces,
Of whom I do not care to tell good bye.

II.
For years have I dreamt that you’d be gone,
Since you first wreaked havoc in this abode,
Such an adieu you have only prolonged,
Destroying this mediocre excuse for a home.
At this thought, I cringe; I fall to my knees,
Onto a ground of wooden shards and nails
That swiftly scrape my skin; I bleed, I bleed,
I bleed out the evil that has since prevailed.

I watched as the devil led my brother astray,
As he deluded himself, sin after sin,
I hadn’t an ounce of pity when he went his way,
As I bled the blood that bound me to him.

I bury my face in my hands as reality sets in,
Foolish man, how dare you let the devil win?

III.
Screams still echo off nonexistent walls,
I cover my ears as they shout their lies.
From a broken phone, my father calls.
Behind a slammed door, my mother cries.
“When will peace befall? When will grief subside?”
I whisper to the old picture in my hands:
A picture of smiling toddlers, side by side,
Of which one grew to be a wicked, wicked man.

Shaking, I grasp a matchbox within my reach;
I strike a match to burn away the memories,
To burn broken promises and false speech,
To burn this ever-looming melancholy.

Then I press my forehead against the ground,
I pray for a new home, for a family sound.

This piece is about a broken family symbolized by a broken house. It’s written in three sonnets to illustrate the narrator’s train of thought. The first sonnet is a description of what the narrator sees, which leaves her in shock as she connects with the dreams she’s had. Accordingly, towards the end of the first sonnet when she dusts off the surface of “familiar faces”, there is a play on the words ‘familiar’ and ‘family’. The second sonnet is about her trying to come to terms with the bittersweet reality. It’s sweet because her brother is gone, but bitter because he destroyed the house before he left. The third sonnet is about burning the past and trying to move on with her life, asking Allah “for a new home, for a family sound.”

The inspiration for this piece came from actual dreams, personal experiences, and emotions that I kept locked away for far too long. This is for everyone who had to lay awake at night, trying to fall asleep amidst yelling and screaming. This is for everyone who has no shoulder to cry on, no one to tell, only Allah. This is for everyone who wishes for a peaceful family over everything, but for one reason or another cannot have one. Turn to Allah and be patient.

“…Give good tidings to the patient, who, when disaster strikes them, say, ‘Indeed we belong to Allah, and indeed to Him we will return’” (Surah Al-Baqarah: 155-156).

Remember the stories of the prophets (‘alayhim as-salam) – stories of men who went through tests of family. In those moments, they had no one to turn to but Allah. Allah was sufficient for them. He too is sufficient for you.

Oh one whose heart has hardened, stop. Step back from the hustle and bustle of everyday life. Let your mind meander through the hills and valleys of your innumerable blessings. Listen to the beating of your heart, feel each breath as your chest rises and falls. Open your eyes and gaze towards the glorious light of the sun and the scattered puffs of white fluffy clouds. Let your body fall backwards and become engulfed by the soft blades of grass as you inhale the pleasant mingled perfumes of the flowers. As you lay in the midst of your reverie, ask yourself: have you ever felt more grateful? As butterflies tickle your skin and the breeze refreshes your broken spirit, the answer comes to you. You begin to realize the simple, yet profound beauty of the moment, a product of the complex collaboration of the senses you possess.

Oh forgetful one, just think and ponder briefly and you shall see. What if just one of those senses went missing or ceased to function? Just one. Would this sweet escape lose some of its luster? Will this rendezvous with nature open up your eyes at last?

Oh struggling soul, created weak in flesh you were, but your Lord is Most Merciful. He never places upon your already aching shoulders a burden greater than they can bear. As you run your delicate fingers across delicate petals, contemplate upon the way you lose your resolve with every trial that befalls you. The way you always break at the very onset. The way that the gifts surrounding you, so openly and plainly, suddenly become obscure to you. The way you permit yourself every time against your better judgment to think, “everyone is against me. My life is horrible. I have nothing and I am worthless. Why did You do this to me Allah? Perhaps the world would just be better without me.”

Oh sleepy one, when will you wake up? How many hungry children will you have to watch on television before it sinks in? How much of the disaster and devastation of others will it take to collapse wall of your indifference? Must you lose everything before you can come to know that you had everything you could ever have asked for and much more? When will you choose to be grateful and reap even more bounties?

For, you do have everything in that Allah is with you. Turn to Him and thank Him before the tides turn on you.

{And [remember] when your Lord proclaimed, ‘If you are grateful, I will surely increase you [in favor]; but if you deny, indeed, My punishment is severe’.” (Sura Ibrahim 14:7)}

Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Reflecting the past, the treacherous falls,
My soul’s weaknesses pierce your glare,
And reflect again on my own despair.

Trembling and sore, I seek to erase
The failures that are bolded, retraced.
My blood boils, tears well up in my eyes,
My chest constricts as my throat runs dry.

Regret seeps into my aching veins,
As memories of vice leak through the pain.
I stare narrowly as I clench my teeth,
And let out a crippled cry in the face of defeat.

“Forgiveness, mercy,” I plead at His door,
He grants my pleas and so much more.
He covers up every flaw and sin,
And makes the mirror clear again.

The renaissance of a believer’s heart
Is thus no longer disposed to the devils’ darts.
Euphoric contemplations begin to arise.
Mirror, mirror, purified by The Almighty, All-Wise

This piece was written after a session of self-reflection. Many of us go through cycles of iman highs that suddenly drop when we lose hope in ourselves. At times, we persist in doing things that we know we should stay away from. We know that we can do better and often want to, but sometimes, the idea of taming our nafs is the most challenging struggle. In this poem, the mirror symbolizes a believer’s heart– a battleground. After it is flooded with guilt and regret, it is made clear once again through Allah (SWT)’s forgiveness and mercy.

It stood gracefully on a shelf of an antique wooden cabinet – a showpiece in the shape of a heart bordered with Swarovski diamonds. Its many edges, cut with the utmost precision, gave it an additional dazzling shine that captured the eyes of visitors.  Even though it was just another piece picked out of many from a crystal gallery, it had an air of superiority among the other artifacts that it was placed with. Its new surrounding was rather too rusty for a heavenly thing like it to reside.

The blessed owner of that marvel, who had received it as a gift, regularly polished it for he feared that its sparkle might fade away someday. He was so fond of the showpiece that a passing glance at it roused happiness in him. Its lustrous beauty left him mesmerized and made him shower gratitude on the one who had gifted it to him. However, as with most things in this world, the owner’s concern for his gifted possession began to fade away with time. Ignorance began to descend on him as subtly as specks of dust settled on the sparkling crystal piece.

Leaves were shed, hailstones had dropped, snow was formed and the sun had settled. Time went on and on without a pause.

Now, though the showpiece still exists, it no longer dazzles. Rather, it is hardly identifiable and is well camouflaged in the dullness of the room. Suffocating under layers of dust, ensnared in fragile cobwebs, it lies abandoned in the dark.

The story of the showpiece and its owner is analogous to a significant character in the story of our lives – our souls. Allah (glorified and exalted is He) has gifted each of us with a soul. A gift so sophisticated and heavenly that it is well beyond the realm of observation and understanding in modern science. Our souls are the primary means for our very existence, for our life. They are our essence, accompanying us throughout our lives from the time it is breathed into the embryo developing in our mothers’ wombs till our last breath. As Allah says in Surah Al-Shams, verses 7 and 8, He inspired it with the knowledge of right and wrong: “And [by] the soul and He who proportioned it. And inspired it [with discernment of] its wickedness and its righteousness.”

We are born upon the fitrah, free from sins and shining from the very start. However, our surroundings play a paramount role in molding our personalities. In the time and age we live in, immorality has become rampant among the young and old alike, people easily stray away from the straight path, and one is mocked for enjoining good and forbidding evil. Consequently, the struggle with one’s soul has become extremely challenging. Such is the extent of evil. The accursed Shaytan has vowed to lead people astray, saying: “… I will surely make [disobedience] attractive to them on earth, and I will mislead them all” (Surah Al Hijr, 15:39).

The soul of a weak believer is easily lured by Shaytan and moreover, it instigates oneself towards evil and is therefore called the commanding soul or nafs ammarah. It is the soul ignored by its caretaker, dulled in his or her eyes by time. When a person neglects his soul, it gives in to its lowly desires, unwary of the warnings, and ultimately leads to self-doom.  For most of us, we find ourselves constantly at war with our nafs, that is, our soul wavers between doing good and doing evil. Nafs lawwamah is at work here, vehemently reproaching itself for committing sins and resolving to compensate by doing good deeds. Then there are those believers who, in every aspect of their lives, strive to please Allah alone. They fulfill the obligatory acts with sincerity filled to the brim and hasten to perform voluntary deeds thereafter. At most times, such a soul remains impervious to the evil that exists in the atmosphere. It is at this level that tranquility and peace descend upon the soul and it reaches the peak of satisfaction known as nafs mutma’innah. An diamond, after all, does not need an audience to shine – only its Creator. In this way, Allah  (glorified and exalted is He) counters the haughty claims of Shaytan to detract the believing servants from the Straight Path, stating that his efforts would be in vain: “Indeed, over My [believing] servants there is for you no authority. And sufficient is your Lord as Disposer of affairs” (Surah Al-’Isra’, 17:65).

Whatever level our soul may be at, it is vulnerable to being specked by dirt at all times and everywhere, very much like the diamond, regardless of where it rests. We may not see it, but slowly and stealthily evil may creep into our souls and into our hearts. Being affected by evil is inevitable. Yet, there is hope. The Prophet (may Allah’s peace and blessings be upon him) said, “Every heart has a cloud covering it, with the similitude of a cloud covering a shining moon. It suddenly becomes dark when the cloud covers, but its brightness returns once the cloud has passed” (recorded by at-Tabarani and graded reliable by al-Albani).

The purity of our soul will return once its evil is removed. Even if we find ourselves drowning in our own sea of sins, the doors of Allah’s Mercy are wide open. We must repent sincerely and resolve to stay firm in our obedience to Allah. The tears of repentance that flow from our eyes will wash away the dirt, and remove all the impurities leaving behind a sparkling soul full of piety. As Allah (glorified and exalted is He) says, “He has succeeded who purifies it (the soul), And he has failed who instills it [with corruption]” (Surah Ash-Shams, 91:9-10). The diamonds of our souls are implanted somewhere deep within us. We must dig within ourselves to find that diamond in the rough.

What if your day had arrived?
Imagine if your entire life was a lie.
Assess yourself as your sins flash by;
You’re wasting your youth and you don’t know why.
Tears flow, but there’s no time left to cry -
You’ve got one last breath, one last sigh.

The Angel of Death has come too soon;
He snatches your soul with a startling boom.
In an instant, you know that you are doomed.
“Kullu nafsin dhaa iqatul maut. Thumma ilayna tur ja’oon.”
He warned you, He warned you; did He not warn you?
Hunched over, you’re miserable in a state of gloom.
Did you really believe that you were immune?

You’re made to enter your grave alone,
Compressed beneath your worldly throne.
Munkar and Nakir arrive; you’re now in the test zone.
“Who is Your Lord? Prophet? Book?” “I don’t know,” you moan.
Eternal punishment begins; it’s too late to atone
With the pressure of your sins squeezing your bones.
For ages to come, this pit will be your home.

You lived among many but you died alone, here with no allies,
Yet you know that you haven’t reached your final demise,
And when the Day of Judgment finally arrives,
When the trumpet is blown, out of your grave you arise.
The records prove you’re condemned; why were you so unwise?
Every beat of your heart echoes screams and cries.
Your shameful book of deeds can never be revised.

Before you, hellfire is set ablaze;
Its sparks leap to and fro in a craze.
The doomed are shocked and paralyzed in a haze,
Sorely regretting all the wasted nights and days.
The message of Allah had been clearly conveyed,
But all you did was go far, far astray.

My inspiration for this piece came from my reflections on this past Ramadan. I thought of how blessed we were to be able to live through another Ramadan, a month of indescribable bliss and reassurance that there is hope and forgiveness for us despite the amount of sins we’ve committed in the past. On the other hand, something was troubling me. The thrill of praying qiyam at 3 am on a weeknight was coupled with genuine fear for those who simply refused to take advantage of this beautiful month. I knew that as much as I tried to wipe away my bad habits, there were always people who refused to give up theirs. I knew that no matter how much I tried to focus on the Hereafter, there are many who have completely lost sight of it.

I knew a girl who was born a Muslim but died an Atheist. She had her whole life planned, a bright future ahead of her. She wanted to go to Harvard and make a name for herself. She was blessed with intelligence, liveliness, and beauty, but none of her future plans included her Creator. She had no time for Him, choosing instead to pave her own life for herself. At the age of 17, she dropped dead. Just like that. A heart problem wasn’t detected until her autopsy. Her soul was seized while she was running on a treadmill, probably dreaming about her future, graduating, or even what she’d eat for dinner.

The Angel of Death does not distinguish between ages. There are no second chances. The day of our death is the biggest mystery to every one of us, yet it is the day we spend the least amount of time preparing for. Are you prepared for your taste of death?

“Every soul shall taste Death; then to Him shall we return.” (29:57)