Connections

I’ve always kept my religious side private. Faith, for me, was something deeply personal—something pure and delicate that I didn’t feel the need to express openly. I believed that acts of worship done in silence carried more sincerity, more meaning. And for a long time, I was comfortable with that. But recently, something within me shifted. I found myself reflecting on my father—not through big memories, but through the smallest, most ordinary moments. The way he would say “Bismillah” before eating, and “Alhamdulillah” after. The way he would quietly go to the mosque. He wasn’t perfect, not extremely practicing by outward standards, but there was a sincerity in his actions that I didn’t fully understand back then. I lost him early in life. And for a long time, I thought I had lost most of him with that. But now I realize—I didn’t. Those small, seemingly insignificant acts stayed with me. They lived quietly within me, shaping my thoughts, my habits, my connection with Allah. In my ...

In today’s world, we are taught to admire marketing as intelligence, strategy, and creativity. Universities teach it as a skill to influence, persuade, and sell. But rarely do we stop and ask: at what cost? From an Islamic lens, not everything that “works” is right . Many modern marketing practices are built on understanding human psychology—not to benefit people, but to control them . Students are often taught how to trigger emotions like insecurity, fear, and desire to push products. This is praised as “effective marketing.” But in reality, it is a subtle form of manipulation. Islam teaches us that intention ( niyyah ) matters. If your strategy depends on making someone feel less than so they buy more—how ethical is that? Manufactured Insecurities: Selling Through Self-Doubt One of the most harmful tactics normalized in marketing is creating problems that didn’t exist before. You are told: Your skin isn’t clear enough Your body isn’t attractive enough Your lifestyle isn’...

 There are moments in a person’s spiritual journey that no one prepares them for. We often hear about the beauty of faith, the peace it brings, the light it fills the heart with. But sometimes the path to that light feels incredibly heavy. Sometimes it feels lonely. Sometimes it even feels like losing parts of yourself. I used to be a lively person. I laughed easily. I was excited about life. People enjoyed being around me and I enjoyed being around them. Life felt like it was moving. Then I tried to become more serious about my faith. I withdrew from many things for the sake of Allah. I tried to be more careful, more modest, more disciplined. I tried to protect my faith and live according to what I believed was right. But somewhere along the way, something changed. The life that once felt colorful started feeling still. Quiet. Almost frozen. Sometimes I look at my life and wonder where the joy went. I wonder where that lively version of myself disappeared. And the hardest p...