A Bit Distant

Photo by dreamleigh on Unsplash

Islam has been feeling a bit distant from me recently.

It’s strange to admit this. I was born and raised in a Muslim-majority country, where the adhan echoes through the day five times over, and hijabs are a familiar sight everywhere. Yet lately, the words Islam and Muslim have felt oddly foreign to me, as though something in my connection to them has quietly shifted, at least for now.

I checked the calendar. Maybe my period is coming up? Nope. Did I take my vitamin D? Yes. Did I get some morning sunlight and go for my morning walk? Also yes. Did I spend some time in silence? Yes, I did. I’ve gone through my usual checklist, but still something feels off.

Have I cried? Nope. And maybe that’s a clue. Crying can be a release, a reset button of sorts. I need some silence, a good cry, and a little darkness to sit with my thoughts. Have I been worrying too much? Absolutely. The next stage of my studies, my future career, where I should build my life, and what my life will look like. So many unanswered questions.

Despite all these feelings, I know I need to open the Qur’an. I do not know how to explain it exactly, but I’ve learned to trust my intuition. The more bewildered and confused I become, the more it feels like a sign that I’ve gone too long without nourishing my heart with the Qur’an. And yes, I realized that I had been immersed in noise and social media for far too long. Perhaps what I need now is a simple but brave step. Put the noise aside and reconnect with the Mushaf once again.

I used to read the Qur’an alongside both Arabic tafseer and English translations. It allows me to connect the dots between my questions and reflections. There is something deeply enriching about seeing the same message expressed through different languages and perspectives.

And…. I am so grateful that He created English.

A few tears came to my eyes as I read “The Most Compassionate” in the translation of the Basmalah. In that moment, a small piece of wisdom settled in my heart.

For those who are passionate about reviving Arabic, I hope they do not unintentionally hurt those who still rely on translations, whether in English or any other language, or those who do not actively use Arabic in their daily lives. Because in reality, I believe countless people have been touched by the Qur’an through its translations. They encountered God’s words through languages they understood, languages that could reach their hearts.

Knowing Arabic may open wider doors to understanding Islam, and it is undoubtedly a blessing. But sometimes, the most meaningful language is the one that speaks directly to a person’s heart.

The pic taken by me

One unique insight I found in Surah Fussilat, verse 22,

“You cannot hide yourselves from your ears, eyes, and skin to prevent them from testifying against you.”

I have read this verse many times before, yet the Qur’an never ceases to amaze me. It is always like this. When a particular wisdom finally gets you, it feels like you are discovering the verse for the very first time.

We often hear reminders to be mindful of Allah because He sees everything. He is watching us. We are told that Allah has appointed angels to record the deeds. He is nearer to us than our jugular vein. But this verse struck me differently.

Allah’s witnesses are not only outside of us. They are within us.

One of Allah’s soldiers is your own body.

Your skin. Your eyes. Your ears. Your limbs. Your hair. Your cells. Every part of your body is observing the life you live. Every single one of them is witnessing you and will one day testify about it.

The verse creates a fascinating perspective. You and your body are not entirely the same thing. The real “you” is the soul, something unseen, temporarily dwelling in a place called the body that He created. And suddenly, the idea of accountability feels much more intimate. It is not merely that there are witnesses in the heavens or angels on your right and left recording your deeds. It is that you carry countless witnesses with you wherever you go.

Your own body accompanies you through every moment, silently recording what it sees, hears, and does. It is like you are walking through life surrounded by millions of witnesses, many of them residing within you. Like CCTV cameras on and inside your body. And on the Day of Judgement, they will speak with a truth that cannot be denied.

Your own body is watching too.

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