A SACRED RESPONSIBILITY

The Quran tells us that this world has been created by God in such a way that only “that which is of use to humankind remains on the earth” (13:17). Everything in creation follows this principle. A thing continues to exist only so long as it possesses the quality of usefulness or profitability. Once it loses this essential character, it forfeits its right to survive, and the system of nature casts it aside as something unwanted. This natural law governs not only the physical world but the moral and social sphere as well.

The same principle has been approved by God for human beings. The ideal servant of God is one who lives in a manner that is profitable to himself and beneficial to others. Such a person strives to become a true giver, someone from whom others receive what supports their life, dignity, and wellbeing. It is this type of individual who can rightly be called human in the fullest sense, for he enriches the world around him rather than diminishing it. Only such a person deserves success and progress in God’s world, both materially and spiritually.

The Prophet of Islam observed: “Among you, whoever may benefit his brethren ought to benefit them.” (Sahih Muslim) This teaching makes clear that beneficence is not dependent on wealth or extraordinary ability. It can take many simple and sincere forms accessible to every individual. Offering good advice, lending a helping hand, guiding someone who has lost direction, giving monetary assistance when possible, or removing obstacles from another’s path—all these acts fall under the category of beneficence.

Even when one cannot help outwardly, one may still pray sincerely for another’s wellbeing, and this too is counted as an act of profit to others. In a world governed by the principle of usefulness, every small act of kindness strengthens the moral fabric of society and brings a person closer to God’s pleasure.

Beneficence is not dependent on wealth or extraordinary ability. It can take many simple and sincere forms accessible to every individual. Offering good advice, lending a helping hand, guiding someone who has lost direction, giving monetary assistance, etc.

Everyone in this world should behave as a morally responsible servant of God and everyone is given equal opportunities to do so.

History shows that some of the greatest transformations in human life begin not with comfort, but with shock. A sudden jolt has the power to awaken a person from moral sleep and redirect the course of an entire life. One striking example of this truth is found in the life of Alfred Nobel.

Alfred Nobel, the inventor of dynamite, built an enormous fortune through the arms industry. By the late nineteenth century, he had established around ninety armament factories and was known primarily for inventions that enhanced the efficiency of warfare. Then, in 1888, an unexpected incident shook him deeply. When his brother died, several newspapers mistakenly published Alfred Nobel’s obituary. One French newspaper bluntly declared: “The merchant of death is dead.” It went on to describe him as a man who had become rich by discovering ways to kill more people faster than ever before.

Reading this assessment of his own life came as a severe shock to Nobel. For the first time, he was confronted with how history might remember him. That moment of painful self-recognition became a turning point. Instead of reacting with anger or denial, Nobel responded with reflection. In 1895, he signed his will, setting aside most of his wealth to establish the Nobel Prizes, including the Nobel Peace Prize. Through this decision, a man once associated with destruction became a symbol of human progress.

Shock, in this sense, is a powerful educator. It triggers intense inner reflection and forces a reassessment of priorities. When a person learns from shock, a new mindset emerges. The individual who existed before the shock was shaped by habit and complacency; the individual who emerges afterward is shaped by awareness. Such moments have the capacity to elevate an ordinary person to extraordinary moral stature.

Shocks, whether major or minor, are a common feature of life. Almost everyone encounters them. Yet most people experience shock only as a negative event. They react with bitterness, self-pity, or resentment, and in doing so, they miss its hidden message. In reality, shock is not an accident; it is the language through which nature speaks to human beings.

If a person resists negativity after a shock, the experience becomes creative rather than destructive. Shock stimulates thought, awakens dormant potential, and compels realism. It brings a person back on track when life has drifted into moral confusion. It forces clarity where there was illusion.

Another powerful illustration of this principle is found in the life of Mahatma Gandhi. In 1893, while travelling in South Africa, Gandhi was forcibly thrown out of a first-class railway compartment despite holding a valid ticket. This humiliating and violent act was a profound shock. Yet Gandhi did not respond with hatred. Instead, the experience shaped his commitment to nonviolence. What began as personal humiliation became the foundation of a moral movement that transformed history.

Life, according to the law of nature, is not a smooth journey. It is a passage through challenges and shocks. Those who seek success and moral growth must learn to treat shocks as stepping stones rather than stumbling blocks. When accepted with humility and reflection, shock does not break a person—it rebuilds him at a higher level.

If a person resists negativity after a shock, the experience becomes creative rather than destructive. Shock stimulates thought, awakens dormant potential, and compels realism.

Overconfidence makes people anticipate the destination without beginning the journey.

One of the most profound statements ever made about peace appears in the Constitution of UNESCO: “Since war begins in the minds of men, it is in the minds of men that the defence of peace must be constructed.” This observation is not theoretical; it reflects an undeniable reality of human life. Whether conflict erupts between two individuals on a street, between communities, or between nations, its true origin is always the human mind.

It is in the mind that feelings of anger, hatred, and revenge are first born. When these inner states are allowed to grow unchecked, they eventually spill over into words and actions. What begins as an emotional disturbance can escalate into provocation, confrontation, and finally into violence. Thus, from petty quarrels to full-scale wars, every conflict follows the same path—from thought to action.

Most negative thoughts arise as reactions to the behaviour of others. Someone insults us, and anger takes hold. Someone humiliates us, and the desire for revenge awakens. Someone threatens our prestige, and we begin to justify hostility. These impulses do not suddenly appear in the external world; they are first shaped within the mind. When they are expressed outwardly, they cause destruction not only to others but also to the person who harbours them.

If peace could be established at the level of thought—before emotions harden into decisions and actions—the world would become a far more liveable place. This applies equally to individuals and to nations. The prevention of conflict does not lie primarily in weapons, laws, or treaties, but in the training of the human mind.

The most effective way to prevent quarrels is to cultivate patience. Patience is not weakness; it is the highest form of strength. A patient person absorbs provocation without reacting impulsively. He refuses to let momentary emotions dictate lasting consequences. At the collective level, this same principle can prevent cycles of retaliation and long-standing enmities.

Such mental discipline becomes possible only when negative thinking is replaced with positive thinking. This does not mean ignoring injustice, but resisting provocation and avoiding unnecessary entanglements. It requires calm, unemotional decision-making and the conscious choice to respond with restraint rather than reaction. Above all, it means learning to return goodwill in place of hostility.

A reform at the level of the mind would lead to the most meaningful reconstruction of human affairs. When individuals learn to govern their thoughts, societies begin to heal. Peace, then, ceases to be a distant dream and becomes a practical reality—constructed quietly, patiently, and decisively within the human mind itself.

If peace could be established at the level of thought—before emotions harden into decisions and actions—the world would become a far more liveable place. This applies equally to individuals and to nations.

For decades, modern science has attempted to understand what happens at the threshold of death. Among those who devoted their life to this inquiry was Dr. Jeffrey Long, an American oncologist and medical researcher from Iowa. Over more than thirty years, he studied near-death experiences (NDEs) reported by individuals who had been clinically dead or close to death, yet returned to life with vivid recollections.

In 1998, Dr. Long founded the Near Death Experience Research Foundation (NDERF). Through this platform, over 5,000 documented cases were collected from across cultures, religions, and continents. After carefully analyzing this vast body of data, Dr. Long reached a striking conclusion: human consciousness does not end with physical death.

Across diverse backgrounds, people described remarkably similar experiences—a radiant light, overwhelming peace, separation from the physical body, and an all-encompassing sense of love. These accounts, he argued, could not be dismissed as hallucinations. Their consistency pointed instead to a deeper reality: life continues beyond death. Nearly ninety-five percent of participants described their experience as “absolutely real.” Several medical journals described his work as a rare space “where science and spirituality meet.”

Centuries before such research, the Quran had already drawn attention to this moment of unveiled perception. It declares: “We have removed from you your veil, and your sight today is sharp.” (50: 22) This verse speaks of a time when ordinary perception is transformed, when the barriers between the seen and unseen are lifted.

I encountered the depth of this truth in 2004 during an eye examination at Nawaz Clinic in Ambur. There I met Dr. Muhammad Ibrahim, one of the town’s most senior and respected ophthalmologists—a man of medical precision and quiet spiritual curiosity. After completing my examination, he asked gently, “You are a scholar. Is it true that at the time of death, the eyes become sharp and the dying person begins to see unseen realities?”

I recited the Quranic verse and replied, “Yes, the Quran tells us that when death approaches, the veils of truth are lifted.”

Dr. Ibrahim nodded and shared a deeply personal experience. “When my son-in-law was dying,” he said, “he suddenly pointed toward the door and said, ‘They have come—the ones who will take my soul.’ Moments later, he passed away.”

The Quran describes this scene with striking clarity: “Then why, when the soul reaches the throat, and you are looking on,

and We are nearer to him than you, but you do not see?” (56: 83–85) As death approaches, the dying person begins to perceive a reality hidden from those who stand beside him.

Years later, on October 8, 2025, I visited the same clinic with a friend’s son. This time, Dr. Ibrahim was absent. The staff informed me quietly that he had passed away. I stood in silence. The man who once asked about the final vision had himself crossed that unseen threshold.

At that moment, a realization became clear. Science and faith are not in conflict; they complete one another. Science observes the phenomenon. Faith explains its meaning. Dr. Jeffrey Long’s research and Dr. Ibrahim’s experience speak of the same truth. Science says life after death may be possible. Faith says it is certain.

As I left the clinic, I whispered a prayer: “O God, grant us sight before death—so that when death comes, it brings not fear, but a smile.”

When knowledge and faith meet, death no longer appears as an end. It becomes a doorway to eternal life.

Science and faith are not in conflict; they complete one another. Science observes the phenomenon. Faith explains its meaning.

According to the English scholar Ian Nash, who spent eleven years in Japan making a close study of its language and people, what shook the Japanese most profoundly was not political upheaval, but the Great Kanto earthquake. On the first of September 1923, this catastrophe devastated the most densely populated eastern regions of the country. In his book The Story of Japan, he further observes that an even more terrible blow followed two decades later, when atomic bombs reduced the cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki to smouldering ruins. These events culminated in Japan’s defeat in the Second World War in 1945.

It would seem natural to assume that a nation struck by such successive calamities would never recover. Yet Japan not only survived, it transformed itself into one of the foremost industrial and commercial powers of the modern world. Despite embarking upon industrial development far later than Britain, Europe, and America, Japan emerged as a global centre of technological innovation. This achievement becomes even more striking when one considers that Japan possesses few natural resources, unlike older industrial nations whose wealth lay buried beneath their own soil.

The decisive factor in this remarkable recovery was not material abundance, but the will to act. Had the Japanese surrendered to despair, indulged in bitterness, or dissipated their energies in endless political protest, national decline would have been inevitable. Instead, they overcame any sense of victimhood and committed themselves to the reconstruction of their collective life. Earthquakes and war had brought devastation, yet they also served as a powerful stimulus, compelling the nation to rebuild with discipline, resolve, and purpose.

History repeatedly shows that moments of severe trial can awaken dormant capacities within individuals and societies. When circumstances are harsh, provided the will exists, hidden talents are activated and latent faculties come into play. The mind becomes sharper, planning grows more realistic, and effort acquires an intensity that comfort rarely produces. A person who lacks the will to improve resembles an engine left idling, consuming energy but moving nowhere.

Paradoxically, ease and complacency often corrode human potential more effectively than hardship. Comfort dulls ambition, while uninterrupted prosperity encourages inertia. This does not mean that suffering is inherently beneficial. Adversity, by itself, is not a virtue. Rather, it functions as a spark, igniting the inner fuel of the human spirit. It becomes the mainspring of initiative, pushing a person or a nation beyond familiar limits and driving them towards creative endeavour.

In the face of adversity, inner strengths emerge that remain concealed during tranquil times. Courage, patience, foresight, and endurance rise to the surface, enabling achievements that once appeared impossible. But this transformation is never automatic. The crucial prerequisite is the will to rise above self-pity, to abandon complaint, and to translate suffering into constructive action. Without this decision, hardship merely crushes; with it, hardship educates and elevates.

Japan’s modern history stands as a compelling illustration of this universal principle. Material loss did not determine its destiny; moral choice did. By refusing to be paralyzed by disaster and by choosing effort over lamentation, the nation converted tragedy into opportunity. It discovered that true progress is forged not in the absence of difficulty, but in the courageous response to it.

Such lessons are not confined to nations alone; they apply equally to individual lives. Every person encounters moments of loss, disappointment, or failure that threaten confidence and direction. Those who interpret these moments as injustice alone remain trapped, but those who treat them as training grounds discover unexpected strength. Hardship, when met with reflection and perseverance, refines character, disciplines desire, and clarifies purpose. It teaches restraint, patience, and responsibility, qualities rarely learned in comfort. In this way adversity becomes a silent teacher, shaping vision and resolve, and preparing the human spirit for achievements that comfort could never inspire. Such growth marks the true beginning of enduring success, and wisdom.

It is therefore not ease, but effort, not facility, but difficulty, that ultimately shapes human greatness and leads individuals and nations alike from hardship to the stars.

Ease and complacency often corrode human potential more effectively than hardship. Comfort dulls ambition, while uninterrupted prosperity encourages inertia.

When two people quarrel, both are at fault, if one were right, he would step away and the quarrel would end.

Islam looks at woman first and foremost as a human being in the full sense of the word. She possesses reason, conscience, emotion, and the capacity to make moral choices. The Quran addresses men and women together, placing both under the same moral responsibility. It says: “O people, fear your Lord, who created you from a single soul.” (4:1) This simple but profound statement removes any basis for superiority or inferiority. Man and woman come from the same source and are accountable before the same God.

Before the advent of Islam, women in many societies lived lives of humiliation. They were denied inheritance, treated as possessions, and often deprived of the right to choose their own destiny. Islam marked a turning point in history by restoring woman’s dignity. It declared her a legal and moral person in her own right. The Quran made it clear that reward and punishment depend on one’s actions, not on gender: “Whoever does good, whether man or woman, and is a believer, We shall grant a good life.” (16:97) This principle placed women firmly within the moral community of believers.

One area that is often misunderstood is Islam’s emphasis on modesty. Modesty is not meant to confine women or erase their presence from society. It is a moral discipline meant for both men and women alike. The Quran first instructs men to lower their gaze and guard their behaviour and then gives the same guidance to women (24:30–31). The purpose is to create a social environment based on respect rather than desire. Islam seeks to protect woman from being reduced to an object and instead recognizes her as a person with inner worth.

Islam also acknowledges the natural roles that women often play, especially within the family. Motherhood is given extraordinary honour. The Prophet Muhammad said that Paradise lies under the feet of mothers, drawing attention to the immense responsibility involved in nurturing the next generation. This recognition does not limit women to the home, nor does it deny their intellectual abilities. Rather, it highlights the moral importance of upbringing and character formation, without which no society can survive.

Education occupies a central place in Islamic teaching. The Prophet stated that seeking knowledge is obligatory for every Muslim. This command was never restricted to men. From the earliest period of Islamic history, women were active learners, teachers, and scholars. Many transmitted Hadith, taught jurisprudence, and guided others in matters of faith. Islam never viewed a woman’s intellect as secondary; it encouraged her to grow in understanding and wisdom

In economic matters, Islam grants women full independence. A woman may own property, earn income, and manage her wealth as she chooses. Her financial rights are protected by law, and she is not burdened with compulsory economic responsibility for others. This freedom was granted at a time when women elsewhere had little or no control over their possessions. Islam thus combined dignity with security and autonomy.

Much of the criticism directed at Islam today arises from confusing cultural practices with religious teachings. Many injustices committed in the name of Islam are, in fact, the result of tradition, ignorance, or misuse of authority. Islam must be judged by its principles, not by the failures of its followers. Human shortcomings should not be attributed to divine guidance.

Islam’s vision for women is one of balance. It does not encourage rivalry between men and women, nor does it erase natural differences. Instead, it promotes cooperation. Men and women are partners in the moral task of life, each contributing according to their abilities and circumstances. Equality in Islam does not mean sameness, but fairness rooted in wisdom.

Islam calls women to a life of purpose, moral awareness, and inner strength. In doing so, it offers not a slogan, but a way of life that harmonizes faith, reason, and responsibility.

Many injustices committed in the name of Islam are, in fact, the result of tradition, ignorance, or misuse of authority. Islam must be judged by its principles, not by the failures of its followers. Human shortcomings should not be attributed to divine guidance.

The difficulties confronting modern man are many: anxiety, moral confusion, loneliness amid abundance, and a persistent sense of inner emptiness. Yet beneath these varied symptoms lies one underlying cause: the separation of man from God. Modern civilization has furnished humanity with unprecedented material comfort, but in doing so it has gradually loosened man’s connection with his Creator. The result is a life outwardly prosperous yet inwardly unsettled.

Material progress has ensured food, shelter, medicine, transport and communication on a scale unimaginable to previous generations. Yet the human being is not merely a physical organism. He possesses an inner dimension, a moral and spiritual faculty that requires nourishment. Just as the body weakens without food, the soul withers without remembrance of God. The Quran refers to this higher nourishment as something “better and more lasting” (20: 131). The same truth appears in the Gospel when the Prophet Jesus declares: “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds out of the mouth of God” (Matthew 4: 4). Bread sustains the body; revelation sustains the soul.

The central contribution of Islam to the modern age is its preservation of a pure and coherent concept of God. All revealed religions began with a clear affirmation of divine unity. Over time, however, theological speculation, cultural influences and historical distortions obscured that clarity. 

Modern society often prides itself on freedom from religious authority, yet this freedom has come at a cost. The eclipse of faith has left many searching for meaning in alternative ideologies or lifestyles. The rise of counter-cultural movements in the twentieth century was not merely social rebellion; it was, in many cases, an expression of spiritual hunger. Affluent societies discovered that material comfort did not automatically produce inner peace. Voices within commercial cultures admitted that economic success alone could not satisfy the deeper needs of the human heart.

The Swiss psychologist Carl Gustav Jung offered a perceptive diagnosis of this malaise. Reflecting on decades of clinical practice, he observed that many of his patients in later life were, at root, suffering from a lack of religious belief. According to Jung, they could not be fully healed without a renewal of faith. His observation did not arise from theology but from practical experience. He recognized that psychological stability is closely linked to a sense of transcendence. Without reference to something greater than the self, human life becomes directionless.

To understand how this separation occurred, one must look briefly at the intellectual history of the West. Classical philosophy sought ultimate knowledge of reality, attempting to uncover the essence of existence. After centuries of speculation, however, philosophers were unable to attain certainty regarding metaphysical truths. With the scientific revolution of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, a new method emerged. Knowledge was divided into what could be measured and what could not. Science limited itself to the study of observable properties. It asked “how” things functioned rather than “why” they existed.

This methodological shift proved immensely fruitful in the physical sciences. By concentrating on measurable phenomena, scientists unlocked the secrets of motion, energy, chemistry and biology. Technological progress followed. Yet the same dualistic method, when applied to human life, had unintended consequences. The human being was analyzed primarily in physical terms. The body was studied; the soul was sidelined. Matter was examined; meaning was neglected.

The Quran itself reminds humanity of its epistemic limits: “You have been given only a little knowledge.” (17:85) Science, in focusing on this “little knowledge,” achieved remarkable practical success. But when the spiritual dimension was excluded from serious consideration, a vacuum emerged. Man began to view himself as a self-sufficient entity, detached from transcendence. Gradually, the question of purpose receded from public discourse.

This dualism may be harmless when applied to inanimate objects. One does not need to understand the ultimate nature of electricity to use it for illumination. Knowledge of properties suffices for practical application. But man is not an inanimate object. He is a conscious being endowed with moral awareness, freedom of choice and the capacity for self-reflection. To treat him as mere matter is to misread his nature.

Consider a simple comparison. A stone statue can be placed in a dark, confined space without protest. It will neither suffer nor resist. A human being placed under the same conditions will experience psychological distress. Deprived of meaning, freedom and hope, he may collapse inwardly. The difference lies in the presence of consciousness and soul. Man is not only a body; he is a bearer of moral responsibility.

When modern thought separated body from soul in theory, it eventually separated man from God in practice. The consequences are visible in the moral uncertainty of our age. Technology advances, yet ethical dilemmas multiply. Communication accelerates, yet loneliness deepens. Information expands, yet wisdom appears scarce.

Islam addresses this imbalance by restoring unity to human understanding. It does not reject material progress; rather, it situates it within a broader moral framework. The Quran encourages reflection on the natural world, inviting humanity to observe the signs of God in creation. At the same time, it insists that material achievements are not ends in themselves. They are means through which man fulfils his stewardship on earth (6 :165).

Islamic teaching integrates the physical and the spiritual. It recognizes that earning a livelihood is honourable, yet it warns against making wealth an ultimate aim. It encourages knowledge, yet reminds scholars of humility. It affirms freedom, yet binds that freedom to accountability. The Prophet Muhammad taught that every person will be asked about his life and how he spent it. This concept of accountability reintroduces purpose into daily existence.

The modern crisis is therefore not a crisis of resources but of meaning. Man has mastered many forces of nature, yet he remains uncertain about himself. Islam proposes that self-knowledge begins with knowledge of God. When man recognizes his Creator, he understands his own place in the universe. He realizes that he is neither insignificant nor self-sufficient. He is a responsible being entrusted with moral choice.

Faith in God provides an anchor amid rapid change. It offers criteria for right and wrong, patience in adversity, gratitude in prosperity and hope in uncertainty. Without this anchor, human life drifts between excess and despair. With it, material progress becomes a tool rather than a master.

In reconnecting man with God, Islam restores the lost balance between body and soul, science and meaning, freedom and responsibility. It calls modern man not to retreat from the world, but to inhabit it with awareness of the Divine. Only through this harmony can the soul be nourished and inner peace regained. In an age of abundance and anxiety, the rediscovery of God is not a luxury; it is a necessity.

By concentrating on measurable phenomena, scientists unlocked the secrets of motion, energy, chemistry and biology. Technological progress followed. Yet the same dualistic method, when applied to human life, had unintended consequences.

Faith in God provides an anchor amid rapid change. It offers criteria for right and wrong, patience in adversity, gratitude in prosperity and hope in uncertainty. Without this anchor, human life drifts between excess and despair. With it, material progress becomes a tool rather than a master.

Consumerism is making people live in intellectual starvation, leading to their complete heedlessness of God and forgetfulness of the purpose of life.

An article published in Harvard Business Review titled “The Dangers of Gossip” (Joseph Grenny, September 2012) analyzed workplace behaviour across organizations. It observed that people who regularly speak negatively about colleagues in their absence gradually lose trust themselves—even when what they say is factually correct. Managers and co-workers begin to see such individuals as unsafe and unreliable, fearing that the same behaviour may later be directed at them.

This real-life observation reveals a deep human truth. Backbiting is rarely the act of a confident person. It is usually the act of someone who feels insecure—afraid of losing position, respect, or relevance. Fear enters the heart, and it finds expression through the tongue.

This explains why backbiting almost always happens in absence. Presence requires courage. Absence provides safety for fear.

The Quran addresses this moral disease with striking clarity: “And do not backbite one another. Would one of you like to eat the flesh of his dead brother? You would detest it.” (49: 12)

This comparison is not meant to shock emotionally, but to awaken moral awareness. What society treats as casual talk is, in reality, a deeply repulsive act in the sight of God.

The Prophet Muhammad explained backbiting in simple terms. He said: “Do you know what backbiting is?” They said, “God and His Messenger know best.” He said, “It is to mention about your brother something he dislikes.” Someone asked, “What if what I say about him is true?” He replied, “If it is true, you have backbitten him; and if it is not true, you have slandered him.” (Sahih Muslim)

This definition quietly removes all excuses. Truth does not justify speaking in absence. Accuracy does not remove moral responsibility.

Islam discourages backbiting not only to preserve social harmony, but because it exposes an inner weakness. A secure person does not need to lower others. He allows his work and character to speak.

The believer is invited to ask himself a silent question: Why do I feel relief when I speak about someone who is not present? Very often, the answer lies not in the other person’s fault, but in one’s own insecurity.

Faith is meant to remove this insecurity. When a person truly believes that honour, provision, and position are decided by God, fear gradually leaves the heart. And when fear leaves the heart, restraint naturally comes to the tongue.

The Prophet summarised this moral discipline in one sentence: “Whoever believes in God and the Last Day should speak good or remain silent.” (Sahih al-Bukhari, Sahih Muslim)

This silence is not weakness. It is strength born of inner confidence. Therefore, reform does not begin merely by controlling speech. It begins by building inner security. A heart at peace does not need to attack others in their absence. Such a person protects not only the honour of others, but his own dignity first—and without making any claim, he becomes trustworthy. 

Islam discourages backbiting not only to preserve social harmony, but because it exposes an inner weakness. A secure person does not need to lower others. He allows his work and character to speak.

Every moment of life is a divine gift. Use it for a higher purpose.