The Muslim Voice: Ephemeral 2023

GRATITUDE, A PATH THROUGH THE TEMPORARY NATURE OF LIFE

DANIYAH ASAD

PAGE 5

GOD’S BALANCING ACT

SHOAIB AHMED

PAGE 19

DEAR NAHIT, I WISH I COULD DO MORE THAN WRITE THIS ARTICLE

AYSE KABACA

PAGE 23

THE TMV TEAM

Editor-in-Chief

Eesha Fahad

VP Communications

Madiha Syed

Associate Editor

Tasnim Dico

Writing Lead

Shoaib Shahid

Editing Lead

Aia Jaber

Graphics Lead

Ayse Kabaca

Cover Design

Farwa Mumtaz

Graphic Designers

Ayse Kabaca

Madiha Syed

Maheen Alikhan

Raniyah Patel

Saher Kamran

Salwa Iqbal

Writers

Aia Jaber

Ayse Kabaca

Daniyah Asad

Iman Ghazi

Jana Hamoud Ali

Madiha Syed

Musfirah Waqar

Yumna Khan

Zoyeb Ehsan

Editors

Alefiyah Bagasrawala

Iman Ghazi

Jana Hamoud Ali

Rania Rashid

Rubin Beshi

Sabahat Khan

Soundous Louardiane

E P H E M E R A L

/əˈfem(ə)rəl/

“lasting for a very short time”

EDITOR’ S ADDRESS

By time, indeed, mankind is in loss, Except for those who have believed and done righteous deeds and advised each other to the truth and advised each other to patience.

Recited at the start and end of my very first council meeting as part of the MSA, this Surah is meant to renew our intentions by reminding us of the impermanence of this life and redirect our focus to performing actions that would benefit us in the hereafter. It was my first exposure to the community that would surround me for the following months - a community built on trust, understanding and guidance. Soon after, my community grew with The Muslim Voice - a platform built on exploring new avenues, working hard (harder than most of us thought) and achieving our creative goals through the magazine, podcast, online blog and spoken word nights. Ephemeral is meant to signify the transitory nature of time - time we can never get back. But it’s also meant to signify the legacy that the relationships developed within this time have on our future. Oftentimes, in the midst of our worldly affairs - specifically balancing exams, work, family and extracurriculars - we temporarily lose sight of the fleeting nature of the world. However, Ephemeral displays that with every night comes dawn, and with every hardship comes ease.

An analogy that helps me reconcile with the Ephemerality of this life is comparing this world to a virtual reality game. As we put on the goggles and start the game, we are cognizant of the fact that we’re entering a virtual reality that we’ll eventually have to step out of. The goggles place a barrier to this world - representing the material things that often disguise our goals for the hereafter. We are capable of removing these goggles at any time and re-entering reality, and even more so provided multiple reminders to do so - ranging from our mom calling us to dinner to the adhan calling us to prayer. The only thing we’re not in control of is when the battery dies out, forcing us to take off our glasses and step back into the reality of this life. This is similar to the multiple opportunities we’re provided to come back to our deen in this life before we meet Allah (swt).

Enfolded within the pages of this magazine are stories that help us reconcile, remember and reflect on the Ephemerality of this world. From the shifting meanings we attach to places, and the beauty of prayer to the very real Islamophobic attacks against Muslims globally, this magazine explores it all with a deeper focus on growing our inner spirituality and peace.

To The Muslim Voice team, I would like to take a moment to express my deepest gratitude for your tireless efforts in bringing this issue to life. From conception to print, you have poured your heart and soul into Ephemeral and your unwavering commitment to excellence is evident throughout every page of this magazine.

To the readers, I would like to thank you for your continued support and feedback. We hope you enjoy reading this issue, as much as we enjoyed creating it. As you read through, I hope you reflect on how the ephemeral moments of your life define your future - in this life and the next.

With love,

Gratitude, a Path Through the Temporary Nature

Daniyah Asad

Though the overlap of things agreed upon by all Muslims grows smaller and smaller with every passing day, the temporary nature of this life is one that persists. A promise inked in eternity; the Quran reminds us:

feeling of optimism and improved mood compared to participants who had spent the study writing about daily annoyances.

(24:42)

From the moment life as a Muslim begins with the Shahada, we know that it will come to an end; however, temporary does not necessarily imply quick. The world has a funny way of convincing us that forever is the reality we live in; grief feels arduous and long-lasting, while happiness feels fleeting, piercing through, and leaving just as fast as it came.

These perceptions of our situations play a significant role in our outlook on life. In part, they are built upon our approach to situations and the frequency with which we practice genuine gratitude in our day-to-day life.

Psychological studies, both secular and religious, sing the praises of gratitude in improving mental health. The benefits of gratitude are so pervasive, that many in the fields of psychology advocate for habitual gratitude to be integrated into everyday activities to enhance the overall quality of life and well-being.

Studies conducted by the University of Pennsylvania show that actively practicing gratitude leads to improvements in mental health, with a strong relationship between purposeful practice of gratitude and increased happiness scores in participants. Similarly, psychologists Dr. Robert A. Emmons and Dr. Michael E. McCullough found that when participants were asked to write about things that they were grateful for, they showed greater

Educator and public speaker Yasmin Mogahed expanded on this idea and its significance in our relationship with God. During a lecture she explained, “Every individual has something called a baseline happiness…and no matter what positive event comes to them…a person will then, you know, have that spike in their happiness. But what’s very interesting and they find is that it’s very temporary.” She continued to highlight that while events and external forces can cause temporary highs and lows in our overall happiness, our mood eventually gravitates back to its original levels. Permanent increase in happiness is a goal many are working towards, even spurring its own field of study in what is known as “positive psychology”- a progression from the humanistic psychology of Carl Rogers, Abraham Maslow and more.

Everyone’s baseline happiness is dependent on a few key factors with one of the primary ones being the practice of gratitude. For Muslims, this is ingrained into our way of life. Within Islam, the significance of gratitude cannot be understated - even “Kufr” itself translates to “ingratitude”. The Quran warns us against falling into this trap and becoming the antithesis of what every Muslim strives to be. It reminds us that, in essence, to be Muslim is to be grateful to God, regardless of the circumstance.

In good times, it means to not fall into the pitfalls of arrogance and remain humbleremembering that every blessing is only through the power of God. While in times of grief, particular emphasis is given to maintaining patience, warning against succumbing to hopelessness. While sadness itself is not an absence of faith, what we choose to do with that grief is what defines our relationship with God. True strength and contentment come through implementation of gratitude. Vice versa,

“To Allah alone belongs the kingdom of the heavens and the earth. And to Allah is the final return.”

ingratitude outputs despair. Succinctly put, if we can’t appreciate what we have - no matter what we attain, we won’t be satisfied.

Though not a light task by any means, the rewards of gratitude mentioned time and time again in the Quran help lessen the burden and encourage us to strive towards this path. Unlike the temporary nature of the troubles or allures in this world, thankfulness to God in those times carries its benefit to the Hereafter.

(14:7)

Within Islam, the significance of gratitude cannot be understated, even the “Kufr” itself translates to “ingratitude”. The Quran warns us against falling into this trap and becoming the antithesis of what every Muslim strives for, reminding us that, in essence, to be Muslim is to be grateful to God regardless of circumstance.

Within the verses of Surah Kahf is the story of the two gardens that further illustrate the significance of this idea. One man was blessed with gardens that blossomed with riches without any extra effort on his part. Overcome with arrogance, the man boasted of his accolades, heedless of the warnings of his companion who advised him against such displays of ingratitude. When the time of punishment came, he lay helpless as the treasures he claimed were eternally vanished like dust. The story concludes with the stern reminder:

(18:46)

“If you are grateful, I would certainly give you more; and if you are ungrateful, My chastisement is truly severe.”

“Wealth and children are the adornment of this worldly life, but the everlasting good deeds are far better with your Lord in reward and in hope.”

Alongside these verses are also reminders of God’s Mercy. Through the most troubling times, God granted a path forward to the steadfast and righteous in the most beautiful way. One can scarcely imagine the sadness with which Hazrat Musa (ra)’s mother parted with her child, casting him adrift on the Nile. As mentioned in Surah Qasas:

“And the heart of Moses’ mother ached so much that she almost gave away his identity, had We not reassured her heart in order for her to have faith ‘in Allah’s promise’.”

(28:10)

With the grief, she was also given strength by God to persevere and go through with the command. And God not only acknowledged her sadness but gave her respite as the Surah continues:

“This is how We returned him to his mother so that her heart would be put at ease, and not grieve, and that she would know that Allah’s promise is ‘always’ true. But most people do not know.”

(28: 13)

Thus, the Quran and Ahadith offer both comfort and warning as it reminds us that the objects of the dunya, whether tribulations or prosperity, will not transcend this transitory domain. It reminds us to redirect our focus towards the deeds that will carry over to the next life. The repetitive motions of our fingers during dhikr; daily rumination over the blessings of God simply through recitation, prayer, and general deliberation are what will weigh heavy on the scale of good, when the world, with both its beauty and malice, crumbles around us in the end.

The Strong Believer

Abu Huraira reported that the Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) said: “The strong believer is more beloved to Allah than the weak believer, but there is goodness in both of them” (Sahih Muslim, Book 46, Number 52).

Life is ephemeral, but do we always treat it as such? It is becoming easier and easier for us to put off our religious duties until later, because we have “more important” things to focus on like academics. There is always some new excuse to delay practicing our religion, and indeed, this is how we slowly depart from Allah (swt). Eventually, we may even find ourselves falling into more and more sin, such as abandoning prayer, all while telling ourselves that we’re doing the “best we can.”

And it’s not as though we actually forget about Allah (swt). Not necessarily. In fact, we may constantly be asking Allah (swt) to forgive our weaknesses. We may even start to resent ourselves.

But can this be a trap of its own? The trap of performing tawbah, without actually growing as a person, vowing to change anything, or making any real amends to get closer to our Lord. One week we beg Allah (swt) for mercy and forgiveness, and the next, we go right back to the toxic behaviour we were repenting for. The Quran warns us multiple times of this tendency that we have to be ungrateful and forgetful.

forget all [the gods] you [normally] invoke, except Him. But when He delivers you [safely] to shore, you turn away. Humankind is ever ungrateful. (17:67)

Sometimes religion can turn into this “mystical” thing where we have this “connection with Allah (swt) in our hearts,” yet we do not observe His rulings, or actually try to solve our problems related to our sin. This is not necessarily out of arrogance, nor is the tawbah done for our shortcomings necessarily ungenuine. Even for a mistake repeated over and over again, the tawbah can be genuine. It may bring tears every time. And these tears may very well bring a great sense of closeness to Allah (swt).

However, this closeness seems to eventually go away, as the person falls back into the sin. We may all have these short spurts in our lives when we feel so filled with piety, and feel so close to Allah (swt), but do we do anything to hang onto those feelings?

Allah (swt) loves the strong believer more than the weak, yet both are good. This tells me that a weak believer should never despair. However, weakness should not become its own kind of comfort or routine either. We commit sins, or neglect what is mandatory, then make tawbah and feel ashamed, and then repeat it all over again when the religious zeal starts to wear off. Sure, there may be goodness in this weak believer, but should they not try to better themselves?

When you are touched with hardship at sea, you [totally]

Sometimes, we may be negatively influenced by slogans such as “It’s okay to not be okay” and “Mental health matters.” All of these kinds of messages that are now plastered everywhere. These are all true; however, they may have the opposite of the intended effect. Perhaps telling someone that it’s okay to not be okay will induce them to stay in that mental state. They might even start to lose hope that things could ever get better. I also strongly believe that these slogans can even inhibit a person’s ambition, since they’ll constantly just be doing what is comfortable for them. Living that way can result in a life of stinging regret.

Furthermore, we should be critical about the morals we are actually following. Are we following what everyone in society is telling us to value and worry about, or are we basing our lives on the Quran and the Sunnah? Because if we base our lives on the Quran, then trials and hardship for a believer should only increase them in faith and spirit. Just consider the mentality of the Believers against the Confederates.

When the believers saw the enemy alliance, they said, “This is what Allah and His Messenger had promised us. The promise of Allah and His Messenger has come true.” And this only increased them in faith and submission.

(33:22)

The strong believer is more beloved to Allah (swt) than the weak believer. We should earnestly pray to Allah (swt) not just for forgiveness, but also for the ability to perform better. Perhaps, we don’t really want to observe everything we know we should be observing because it’d require more effort. But as Muslims, mustn’t we have faith that this is the better path for us to take? That it’s not something we should be skipping out on? That we would be the ones losing in the end?

I think one needs to be careful not to let their life become a routine of bad habits. We must remember the fact that greater joy lies in actually solving our problems and working on becoming better, rather than just asking for forgiveness when we mess up. Life is ephemeral, so let us vow to make the most of it; for the richness of this life and the next.

Can you hear the sea of salams

Sent to the Prophet

Do you hear His name

Ripple through the ummah

Can you feel hearts beat

Glorious creations from the Mighty Creator

Hearts strumming in unity

Bound together by a declaration of submission and peace

We declare it again and again and again in our greetings

A declaration of unity and truce with every brother and sister

A bond dipped into the divinity of holiness

Do you ache for salvation amidst devastation

Ya Nabi you’ve cried for us

Do you hear our salams

Will you return our salutation

Do you hear the ache in our dua’as as we break down into the humble servants of Allah

Ya Nabi, you are a single drop of water that rippled the stagnant pond into a lively sea

Your peace has made ripples in waves that shake the core of the ummah

Ya Nabi, we lose ourselves between each salam

Your peace is our guidance back while navigating trials and tribulations

Finding sanity within the rapid tides of calamity

It’s easy to get wrapped up in the difficulties of the world

Tragedy after tragedy it gets suffocating to find peace in broken hearts and forgotten dreams

So it’s in our salams that we find sanity within this peaceful sanctuary

Oh Lord, allow that peace on our tongues to encompass our souls

Allow it to nourish our trust in You, the All-Planner Al Hakeem, the Al Mujeeb

These humble 10 fingers tremble as our struggles wash away into the tides of this dua’a

Ya Nabi, we sent our peace to you so that you may remember and ask for us in the hereafter

As-salāmu ‘alayka ayyuha n-nabiyyu wa rahmatullāhi wa barakātuhu.

IndianMuslims: Responding to Violent Identity Severance with Faith

have been welded for generations that are being challenged during this time. Muslims are trying to assert their identity within a national constitution that is now eroding the free practice of religion and they are met with sickening violence.

Genocide Watch has warned with great severity of an impending genocide against Muslims in India perpetuated by Prime Minister Narendra Modi and the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) (Aljazeera). Thus, I want to use this space to dismantle the argument that I see employed by Muslims and Non-Muslims alike: atrocity against Muslims stems from religious differences. That logic is disingenuous to India’s social makeup as the largest pluralistic society on the planet with the second largest group of Muslims within a country (Majumdar). There are intricate linkages between faith and citizenship that

The right-wing belief of the extremist paramilitary group, the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS), has filtered down into pop culture and sprung new cells in support (South Asia Scholar Activist Collective; Frayer and Khan). Songs and dance that celebrate the purification of Hindustan by expunging Muslims from the country are integrated as a cultural practice neighbourhoods gather to partake in. Hindutva pop songs like those of Sandeep Acharya define Muslims as “tenants” in India who must be exiled, and are evidence of an ideology that asserts Hindu supremacy in place of a

constitutionally secular state (Discovery World Documentary). Further, cultural gatherings led by the RSS processions turned into mob riots in 2022 infiltrating Madhya Pradesh with the looting of Muslim-owned businesses and the burning of Muslim homes (Discovery World Documentary). This rhetoric contradicts the sheer number of religious groups, including Muslims, Christians, and other minorities, who mark India as a country of unparalleled diversity.

Apps such as “Bulli Bai” that circulated pictures of Muslim women, depicting them as ‘for sale’ to the public only further demonstrate the targeted violence against Muslims in India. The name of this app is one of the derogatory slang terms used against Muslim women, along with “Sulli” - its’ original version. Further, the lack of action taken against such discrimination is demonstrated by the lack of arrests made despite public outcries and police cases opened regarding harassment (Dasgupta).

While “Bulli Bai,” as opposed to “Sulli,” does not allow users to engage in real transactions, the desired effect is wrought: the dehumanization and degradation of Muslim women are deemed permissible. Muslim women are thus reduced to transactional objects, and their achievements are rendered invalid. These stories, hopefully, depict the manner in which Muslims are alienated from contemporary spaces in India through a political wave that has diffused into

mainstream media and culture.

For context, the reign of BJP began in 2014 when Prime Minister Narendra Modi was elected, sending a wave of Hindu - not Indian - nationalism (Jaffrelot). Regardless though, even the opposing party - Congress Partypossesses this Hindutva ideology. While there are no issues with their campaign to promote Hindu medicine, build cow shelters, and protect sacred rivers - the line is drawn with their attempt to replace secularism with Hindu nationalism. Despite this not be their primary goal, in response to BJP and to accrue votes from the majority Hindu population, it is now visible that this tactic ostracizes Muslims along both sides of national political parties.

The hatred for Muslims is perpetuated by a national shift in paradigm: India in its contemporary form is not inclusive of Muslims. This current trend of violence towards Muslims and Islam is politically charged. Indian politicians aim to etch a definitive line - that Indian-Muslim is an inherent contradiction. Thus, constituting a genocide.

Works Cited

Dasgupta, Sravasti. “What Is Bulli Bai Scandal - Indian App That Listed Muslim Women for AuctionSravasti Dasgupta.” The Independent, Independent Digital News and Media, 8 Jan. 2022.

Discovery World Documentary, director. India: Anti-Muslim Hate Music. YouTube, YouTube, 30 Jan. 2023.

Frayer, Lauren, and Furkan Latif Khan. “The Powerful Group Shaping the Rise of Hindu Nationalism in India.” NPR, NPR, 3 May 2019.

Jaffrelot, Christophe. “The Fate of Secularism in India - the BJP in Power: Indian Democracy and Religious Nationalism.” Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, 4 Apr. 2019. Moneycontrol. “What Is Bulli Bai, the Controversial App Targeting Muslim Women on Social Media?” Moneycontrol, 4 Jan. 2022.

Majumdar, Samirah. “5 Facts about Religion in India.” Pew Research Center, Pew Research Center, 31 May 2022. Reuters. “Indian Officials Demolish Several Houses after Protests over Anti-Islam Remarks.” CNN, Cable News Network, 13 June 2022.

Sen, Somdeep. “Analysis: Islamophobia Is the Norm in Modi’s India.” Islamophobia | Al Jazeera, Al Jazeera, 10 June 2022. South Asia Scholar Activist Collective. “What Is Hindutva?” Hindutva Harassment Field Manual, 221.

Muslims are alienated from contemporary spaces in India through a political wave that has diffused into mainstream media and culture.

Fleeting Childhood

Aia Jaber

Ikick my shoes off and drag my feet across the hot sand, excited for a new day. The sun shines brilliantly, embodying the happiness I feel, and the wind is cool, drying the sweat running down my face. With school out, I can spend every moment on the swing—going higher and higher until I feel like I’m flying. I savour every moment of what it means to be a child before I have responsibilities that take away precious time to play or sit in the sun. Before I find myself behind a desk, slaving away at a 9-5 or rushing in between buildings on a big campus. Moments are fleeting. Childhood is ephemeral.

Being young is beautiful. It is filled with innocence and love. Warm hugs from family members and random sums of money on Eid from strangers. You don’t fully understand your existence at such an age, and once you feel like you do, you are entering a new phase of life, and can begin to raise children of your own. But the most beautiful aspect of childhood is the mercy and love Allah (swt) has for children—to the point where He has implemented protection for them in this dunya and the Hereafter.

Allah (swt) understands childhood is temporary—as all phases of life are—but He cherishes the development of His creations and creates a cushion within which children may learn right and wrong through trial and testimony. Allah (swt) does not expect one to know what to do or how to live when they have no knowledge. In the short time we develop rationality and experience, Allah (swt) chooses to dismiss our sins until we hit puberty and develop greater intellect on matters of everyday life. In a hadith by Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) recorded in Abu Dawud, he said:

“The pen is lifted from three people: from the sleeper until he wakes up, from the child until he becomes an adult, and from the insane until he regains his senses.”

Allah (swt)’s love for His creation prompts kindness and tolerance. God is not unjust. We should always remember,

“Allah does not burden an individual beyond their capacity”

(Quran, 2:286)

Climbing up the stairs of the jungle gym and sitting across the hot plastic, our moms eagerly take a picture of our little frames against the bright red slide. Little is needed to make children laugh— their smiles are won by a mere tickle or inflection in our voice. They have not a worry in their minds as they familiarize themselves with their surroundings, their family, and Allah (swt). Upon coming across such a vulnerable and heartwarming entity, we feel the desire to shield it from the world. Like a delicate flower or a pet we love, we understand that some beings need room to grow and become stronger. And thus, Allah (swt) has implemented a blanket of protection until the child reaches an older age. Only once they are balagh—having reached puberty—will the angels on their shoulders begin to count their bad deeds. The mercy of Allah (swt) is such that He has decreed that bad actions will not be recorded by the angels, but any good deeds will be rewarded in a child’s life. If a child is to pass away before reaching puberty, they are automatically guaranteed Paradise, as their souls are pure.

Chasing one another across the park near our homes, and meeting children from school you don’t typically see in classes is part of the excitement of childhood. Days spent ripping grass out

of the lawn and rubbing sand against our legs are soon replaced with moving your finger across your trackpad to press “submit” after completing an assignment. Half days of kindergarten and colouring time become long work hours and taxes. Riding in a big yellow bus soon becomes commuting to work or school in your own car. Childhood is short-lived. It is one of life’s beauties, for, if it were long, we would never appreciate it. Instead, we spend lifetimes reminiscing on tales of our youth and memories of our innocence. We recall moments our parents held our hand as we skipped down to the park, and how it felt to hide from them when it was time to go home.

It is a peculiar sensation to revisit elementary schools, childhood homes, and old playgrounds. Before, they seemed so big. We would struggle to throw our shoes on the racks above our hooks in the halls, and we’d feel the walls were too big. Now, we are double the height we used to be, and ten times wiser than before. Our past feels small—we’ve outgrown it. We have limited memories of our short-lived innocence, and we know we cannot go back in time to enjoy it.

My favourite activity at the park was sitting on the swings at sunset, feeling myself go higher and higher. You feel capable. You feel invincible. You truly feel like you are flying and that nothing can hurt you. And while there are threats to children, none are related to the Akhira. Allah (swt) has promised children peace in the afterlife. So, while childhood is fleeting and dearly missed by many, the cycle of life continues. One day, you will have your own children, noticing parts of yourself and your distant childhood within them. The years will fly by and your sons and daughters will grow up—once again pushing you to miss the essence of childhood and understand that it is ephemeral. Phases of life never last long enough.

Now, we are double the height we used to be, and ten times wiser than before. Our past feels small—we’ve outgrown it.

BALANCING ACT GOD’S

Shoaib Ahmed

Never have I taken this long to settle on an idea for my article. By now, I have repeated the word ‘ephemeral’ a couple hundred times in my head. I keep thinking about this life being ephemeral, but that seems too somber an idea to write about. This time, instead of mumbling the word, my mind hums a line from a beautiful Urdu song by Sunny Khan Durrani.

“We will sit together in Heaven and laugh at ourselves, wondering why we were upset at such trivial matters.”

As life is temporary, so are the states of pain and pleasure that stitch together to make up life. Life is never stationary, always in perpetual motion, oscillating between pleasure and pain, between loss and discovery. This is how it attempts to balance itself. Our faith consistently inspires us to understand this impermanence of life and its parts. Sheikh Hamza Yusuf, a prominent Sufi Sheikh, analogized life to a child being thrown in the air. Their eyes widen as the child leaves your arms, and a cry escapes them. They thump back into your arms with a chuckle and delight. The ascent and fall of the child can also be analogized to our phases of sorrow. The one difference is that a child learns to enjoy the anticipation in the fall and trust the arms that catch it.

As Muslims, we understand that the depth of each fall is compensated by the height of each rise. Our belief in God informs our belief that whatever difficulty we are going through will undoubtedly end. It keeps the flame of hope ignited within us. Still, we are only human. It is, well, human of us to occasionally lose hope and fall into despair. During these times, Allah (swt) assures us,

“So truly where there is hardship, there is also ease. Truly where there is hardship, there is also ease.”

[94:5-6]

When faced with new difficulties, we can return to this verse to replenish our hope and resolve.

And yet, not all sorrow is the same. For instance, yearning for a lost loved one never surrenders. It roams around your soul - foggy and cold - despite the passing of time. These pains age with you and only come to cease at your last breath. But even these lasting pains can be dulled by our understanding of this temporary life. When Muslims learn of someone’s passing, we say,

with sorrow and failure, it also dictates our relationship with joy and success. Material success, like every other component of life, is an adversary of time. This in itself is motivation for us to be humble in our success. We attribute our success to God and, hence, remain detached from it. As Muslims, we are careful not to define ourselves through worldly gains. Yes, we can be proud of the work and energy we have put in, but it is not how we identify ourselves. Then, when the inevitable strikes and failure does come our way, we are better positioned to accept it.

Pleasure and joy are no different for us. When they do come our way, we enjoy them. When they shy away, we don’t chase after them. The purpose of our lives is not to attain comfort or pleasure. Indulging in pleasures is not only a deterrent to our pursuit of submission to God but also to any worldly goals we might have. Because we don’t chase happiness, we don’t desensitize ourselves to it. Nor do we guard the moments of joy. We understand the futility of such a task.

And therein lies our hope as well. The pain will subside, and so will their absence. We will look forward to reuniting with our beloved in the next life.

As Allah (swt) promises, soon after sorrow comes joy. As a cog to a clock, this circle of grief and joy keeps life moving forward. Each state more fleeting than the previous one. As the ephemeral nature of life dictates our relationship

As life feels the pull of time, it shifts its states to balance itself. Through this journey, we often lose hope, and we often succumb to pleasure. That is how it is meant to be. Every time we find ourselves trapped, we look to Allah (swt) and wait for Him to lead us back to equilibrium and onto the next phase. Phase by phase, we hope to detach from these phases and submit further to the only constant we know, the Eternal One.

“Verily we belong to Allah, and truly to Him shall we return.”

The Butterfly Effect Of Prayer

There is a special type of serenity found in the mere seconds when my body hits the ground and I kneel down for prayer. On most days, the minutes dedicated to my daily prayers are only a small fraction of the hours spent doing everything else - yet these fleeting moments still seem to be the most significant. There are times when I feel like I have been kneeling for a lifetime as the bustling chaos around me stands still, and all that is in focus is my connection with Allah (swt).

Over the years I have grown to realize that my spiritual connection is built on these ephemeral moments of kneeling down to prayer and praising Allah (swt) - their long-lasting effects piling up one on top of the other. While it takes mere minutes to complete my prayers, their effects are long-lasting.

When I was younger, I learned about the Butterfly Effect. I would imagine the delicate monarch by my windowsill, flapping its intricate wings to produce a fiercely relentless typhoon all the way on the other side of the world. I don’t spend much time looking at monarch butterflies on my windowsill anymore, but these little acts of prayer have translated into my own version of the butterfly effect. Every time I kneel down to pray, I am given another opportunity to connect with Allah (swt) in the hopes of creating and solidifying a spiritual connection that holds permanency in my life. Just like the delicate monarch, I flap my wings for seconds in order to produce something much bigger than me, sometimes without even realizing it.

There are some days when I wish that prayer wasn’t so ephemeral - that it lasted forever so that I could always feel its peace. However, I now realize that this peace constantly flows through me, even when it is muffled by the chaos of the day. Praying cultivates a special bond with Allah (swt) that is not fleeting, but permanent. It is this special bond that acts as my serenity. In some ways, it is the fleeting nature of simply kneeling down for prayer that makes it so dear to my heart, acting as a brief escape from the troubles of my world. Allah (swt) asks for something so minor and short-lived for me to carry out every day and yet gives me so much more in return; by watching over me so that I feel cared and protected for. In the grand scheme of things, every minute I have spent kneeling down for prayer will not add up to much at the end of my lifetime, but the relationship I built because of it will be the most important thing I can carry with me. I have grown to realize that the ephemeral moments of life provide this journey with a sense of beauty and purpose because while certain moments may be short-lived, their implications are not. Kneeling for prayer does not take me longer than mere seconds, yet it produces a spiritual connection that follows through me in this life and the next. To me, an ephemeral life is not one that slowly slips away, but rather a series of impermanent moments that cultivate permanent connections that I can nourish little by little in a matter of seconds.

“Just like the delicate monarch, I flap my wings for seconds in order to produce something much bigger than me, sometimes without even realizing it.”

I didn’t know Nahit when I was in high school to be honest. He was an upper year student, he played basketball, and my friend had a crush on him. Even though we shared the same halls at school, I do not remember much of him other than small bits and pieces of information.

His dad was a judge then, who has now been imprisoned for almost 7 years as part of the Turkish government’s purge of government officers. A lot of people were accused of being terrorists since the attempted coup in 2016 (about 600,000 people give or take) and members of the Gulen Movement were affected most. Kurds and other dissenters were also affected, but to a lesser extent. The witch hunt led to some losing their jobs, being sent to prison, and many were excluded from their families, neighbourhoods, and friend groups because the accusation sticks and doesn’t let go. I would know. The affected were mostly teachers, police, lawmakers etc. Nahit’s dad was only one of those tried unjustly under the Presidential Law.

Nahit suffered from something called social death. Stigmatised as a terrorist in his 20s, I can imagine why he could not talk to anyone about what he was going through.

Imagine the fear of the future eating at you as you think of starting a career while also jumping through hoops to avoid getting profiled in job applications. The anxiety of knowing they won’t accept you if they learn about your dad. It is a drowning sensation and you cannot see the shoreline. People who see you drowning don’t lend a hand, some don’t even look your way. You can’t shout nor ask for help. His roommate of one year didn’t even know Nahit’s dad was in prison and had no idea how much he suffered.

People say Nahit was a kind soul. He was hardworking and silent. He got into the best university in Turkey, Boğaziçi University after he aced the entrance exams. He had a solitary life in his dorm room where he prayed often

It is a drowning sensation and you cannot see the shoreline. People who see you drowning don’t lend a hand, some don’t even look your way. You can’t shout nor ask for help.

according to his roommate at the university. He had a tough time after his dad was imprisoned. Injustice made him distressed. Enough to be diagnosed with bipolar disorder not long after his father was taken away from him and his family, which included Nahit, his younger sister, and his mother.

Nahit committed suicide at Galata Tower on October 12, 2022.

At first, journalists wrote that it was a foreigner who jumped and therefore, irrelevant. When a foreigner dies, it is of no concern to the public.

A week later they wrote that Nahit was simply depressed and sick, and claimed it had nothing to do with the injustice his community had inflicted upon him. Again, no concern of the public – the newspapers said so.

Against all the lies the Turkish media spread about his death, I bear witness to the injustice that killed Nahit. Life is ephemeral but our legacy lives on in people whose lives we touch – knowingly or unknowingly. As I write these words, I am intentional that someone, somewhere will read this and know that Nahit was a kind soul, that he tried standing up against the face of injustice, and when he couldn’t anymore, he was murdered in maybe the most public place in Istanbul. A place that used to hold a different meaning for each of us.

I am not sure what the Galata Tower symbolises for me anymore. I thought about pain, resilience, injustice, anger, but nothing summarises what happened to Nahit, especially my insufficient words.

Dear Nahit,

I wish I could do something more than write this article.

In the name of Allah – Al-Ghaffar, Al-Hakam, AlAdl, As-Shaheed, Al-Muqsit, I pray that you find the justice you have yearned for in this world where you are.

As I write these words, I am intentional that someone, somewhere will read this and know that Nahit was a kind soul, that he tried standing up against the face of injustice.

Ghazi

FROM THIS LIFE TO THE NEXT Iman

When we were children, the days felt endless. Time passed by slowly, pleasantly, and patiently. As we get older, time becomes faster, more difficult, and leaves us in the dust. Why is time so harsh? Why does it feel like our lives started out as endless, and that it eventually slips through our fingers faster than we realize? Maybe it’s because the longer we live, the less we live. I don’t just mean that we come closer to death. Rather, our time spent living holds less weight. In the first 24 hours of being alive, an hour was 1 out of 24 of our lifespan. When we reach 20 years, an hour becomes 1 out of 175,320 of our lifespan.

As we get older, an hour becomes nothing.

Days become nothing.

Years become nothing.

Yet, despite our lives slipping through our fingers like grains of sand, we are taught to exist bountifully. To balance our deen and the dunya. To use those experiences and fill our hearts and days with a life worth living. Part of that life is how we interact with others—the good we do for people that will one day speak on our behalf. Yes, our lives become shorter and shorter, but there is so much we can do to make our legacies last.

Islam’s concept of Sadaqa Jaariyah reflects the characteristics every person should strive to have. It is the charity that follows us into the afterlife. Islamic Relief Canada describes it as

words of advice to people who then pass it on to their children who pass it on to their childrenthose words will ring through and testify on your behalf. If you pass away, and your family gathers money to build a well, everyone and thing to benefit from that source of nourishment can save you by the will of Allah (swt).

Sadaqah Jaariyah is universal. It can come in the form of many things, but ultimately it will follow you into your next life. Regardless of whether your time in this dunya is short or lengthy, the endless afterlife is what will truly define your existence. It is the result of your work in this world, either through your own efforts or the legacy you leave behind.

Our existence is an Amaanah. We will be asked what we did with our time. We will be asked if we made our time worthwhile. When our deeds are being weighed on the scales, will we have someone to say that the good we have

done or the good done on our behalf has helped them? Will our children carry our legacy? When we meet our loved ones who had passed on before us, will they ask us about what we did to ensure that their acts of goodness did not cease? More importantly, will we be able to confidently tell our brothers and sisters that we continued to help others in their name?

When we live our lives, we do what we can to make a lasting impact. But there is only so much one can do in such a short amount of time. That is why the Prophet (pbuh) told us “When a human being dies, all one’s deeds cease, save three: a Sadaqah Jariyah, [religious] knowledge [one leaves behind] from which others benefit, and a righteous child who prays for one” (Sahih Muslim 1631).

That being said, we should strive to live our lives in a way that associates us with acts of kindness, charity, and goodness. Live a life that urges others to do things that will benefit their community. Speak with love, spread knowledge, and do something that will bring peace to another.

If we truly must live such short lives, where every passing second becomes a smaller fraction of our lives, why not hold the memory of those who are gone in a way that will help them? In a way that will reach them no matter what and from a place of good intention, out of love for our Ummah. Love that our Prophet (pbuh) encouraged us to have and that Allah (swt) made us with.

In regard to us as individuals, we must do our best to let acts of good seep into our afterlife. Or make it known to our families that goodness should follow us to our graves. Let that speak for us on the day of judgement, rather than our mistakes.

Hala Sheta

All around me, I see God

This piece is inspired by the Islamic philosopher, Ibn Tufayl’s book, Hayy Ibn Yaqzan, which tells the story of a man living on an uninhabited island who finds God through his contemplation of the island and experimentation with its elements. I especially wanted to emphasize how Hayy engages in taffakur [contemplation] of the world around him and how he admires The Creator’s touch in everything he sees.