A Love Story

Recently, I had the opportunity to read an essay on morality by a highly learned atheist. It was a ruthless critique of the morality brought by religion-powerfully written, rigorously argued, and intellectually uncompromising. The writer had done his full homework and stood firmly upon the conviction that there is nothing inherently true, wise, or eternal about morality; rather, it is a constructed lie that serves the interests and comforts of those who, without it, would find themselves unable to cope with the horrific nature of existence.

Intellectually, I could not detect any obvious logical flaw in the atheist's discourse. On the contrary, I admire his effort to make sense of the world without reliance upon belief. It inspired me to write this essay-not as a counter-thesis at all, but as a humble attempt to explain how I view religion differently, owing to the influences that shaped my understanding along a different path.

As someone who first attempted to walk the path toward God more than twenty-one years ago, I have evolved as a seeker as my journey unfolded in stages-slowly, gradually, and often in ways I myself did not foresee.

I do not believe in any of the following claims that are usually made by many proponents of religion:

a) Intellectually, religion is a system of thought whose flawlessness is obvious. b) Religion and science are fully compatible with each other. c) Religion and philosophy can go hand in hand for a long distance. d) Religion has made the world a better place.

No serious student of knowledge would accept these claims without rigorous examination. Then on what grounds do I continue to cling to faith and repeatedly preach it throughout my writings?

I have no option but to mention the Poet-Philosopher of the East, Sir Dr. Allama Muhammad Iqbal:

Within my conscience, the ancient battle was revived anew; Love is entirely Muhammadan, while mere intellect is entirely Abu Lahab.

(Tāza merē zamīr mein ma'rakah-e-kuhan huā / 'Ishq tamām Muṣṭafā, 'aql tamām Bū Lahab)

For Western readers, I must clarify that in this verse, the path of Abu Lahab signifies the path to ruin and spiritual destruction. Iqbal does not mean that all intellect is evil-after all, he himself held a PhD in Philosophy. Rather, he means that intellect, when completely detached from Prophetic light, cannot guarantee divine guidance. On the contrary, a person moved by love may ascend to spiritual heights even without immense intellectual caliber. This verse beautifully summarizes Iqbal's own journey-from a man of scholastic brilliance to one of mystical depth.

As someone who was once deeply passionate about pursuing the path of academia, and who later became a disciple of a saint, I consider Iqbal's words to be wisdom for both the novice and the scholar alike.

What, then, is love? It requires an explanation that a common man can understand as well.

Love is when:

• You acknowledge that you have sinned greatly, and you turn toward repentance because God loves those who repent.
• You realize that your actions alone cannot earn your salvation; only His mercy can.
• You do not fully understand the logic behind the law, yet you embrace it because of the Law-Giver.
• You stop seeking worth in the eyes of the world and aim only for His pleasure.
• You understand that a thousand self-driven acts of piety are lighter than a single expression of the Prophet ﷺ.
• You can lose your entire bank balance just to catch one glimpse of the Prophet ﷺ.
• You feel pain when you see God's creation in pain.
• The problem of the sufferer becomes more important than his school of thought.
• Your own wealth may be little, yet it brings you joy to spend it on others.
• You stop debating and begin winning hearts instead.
• You know that your path is tailor-made for your destination.
• You are convinced that your bitter life experiences are actually in your favor.
• Those afflictions make you a better human being.
• You can win the argument, yet you choose silence.
• The adverse reactions of people do not discourage you from virtue.
• You love anonymity more than fame.
• You do not expect people to give you respect equal to your actual worth.
• You can remain content without converting your talents into monetary gain.
• Your talents are invested in service without personal benefit or ulterior motive.
• You stop claiming purity of intention, even when you attain it.
• You place no titles before your name, yet God Himself bestows them upon you.
• You enjoy lowering your gaze more than looking at a beautiful woman.
• You feel relieved to have sacrificed your sleep for the prayers before sunrise.
• You cannot begin your day without reciting Surah Yā Sīn.
• You see others flourishing in the world far more than yourself, yet you never question God's distribution.
• You believe that even when people wronged you, you were still a culprit in the Court of God.
• You fear losing virtue more than losing your career.
• You and your family are less beloved to you than the Prophet ﷺ and his family (Ahl-e-Bayt).
• You are wise enough to recognize who is insincere toward you, yet you say nothing to them.
• You prefer peace over proving yourself right.
• You forgive people even before they apologize.
• You offer respect to someone without first asking for his credentials.
• You enjoy the company of those with a smaller CV.
• You would do anything to please your parents without calculating whether they deserve it or not.
• Your relationships are not based upon profit-and-loss calculations.
• You are willing to serve religion for years without accumulating followers, admirers, fans, or applauding hands.
• You seek a mentor in order to become a lover.
• You follow him whether your intellect fully grasps his insights or not.
• You find a single piece of wisdom more precious than a lottery.
• You seek the company of lovers.
• You find gossip, social media trends, and daily news irrelevant to your goals.
• Rumi and Saadi appeal to you more than preachers do.
• You are willing to go the distance even if the road is covered in thorns.
• You do not complain about the thorns that have already wounded you.
• You do not claim to have attained humility and humbleness.
• Your deeds in isolation are as virtuous as your deeds in public.
• You enjoy sharing knowledge with people even without appreciation or praise.
• You invest more time in self-rectification than in rectifying others.
• You began something to impress people, then to impress lovers, and now only to please God.
• You do not let sectarian biases dictate your feelings about people and their views.
• You never compromise on upholding the greatness and sanctity of the family of the Prophet ﷺ (Ahl-e-Bayt).
• The libraries of the entire world are nothing compared to a single sentence of the Prophet ﷺ.
• The opinions of intellectuals often seem less sound than the opinions of lovers.
• You prefer a teacher whose chain of learning reaches back to the Prophet ﷺ (Sāhib-e-Nisbat).
• No discourse by an atheist or skeptic can shatter your conviction in Islam.
• You do not speak disrespectfully to them, for they too are people of God.
• Listening to a lecture on faith feels more exciting than any music playlist.
• You praise your family without measuring how much praise you will receive in return.
• You create unexpected ways to please those around you.
• You are willing to contribute to the world without being noticed.
• No catastrophe is greater than displeasing your Beloved.
• No victory is grander than being in the good books of His Beloved ﷺ.
• Your eyes become wet in His remembrance.
• Your tongue never grows tired of remembering His Beloved ﷺ.
• Contemplation and reflection become your favorite hobbies.
• Either you do not write, or you write only for a higher cause.
• No worldly advantage supersedes values and principles.
• No sacrifice is worthy of His greatness.
• You consider yourself only a servant of saints, hoping to be placed within their caravans.
• You become extremely judgmental about your own deeds while giving others the benefit of the doubt.
• You trust your mentor regardless of which way the winds are blowing.
• You feel small before him, even though he is generous in his compliments.
• You taste the fruits of adab (reverence) more deeply than the fruits of intelligence.
• The midnight prayer feels like passionate romance.
• Your list of prayers includes many other people as well.
• In that list, possessions are gradually replaced by noble traits.
• Your spiritual thirst cannot be quenched by do's and don'ts alone.
• There is not a single person in the world toward whom your heart carries jealousy or hatred.
• In neither religious matters nor worldly affairs do you feel self-sufficient.
• You revisit your past and realize that when you were in a mess, you yourself were the mess.
• You take a firm stance on Karbala and declare that if Imam Hussain ؓ did not give allegiance to the cursed Yazid, how can any other Muslim do so?
• You reject the statements that reduce it merely to a power struggle between two princes.
• You are magnanimous enough to recognize that your own tribulations are nothing compared to those in Gaza.
• You hate your own incapacity to help the victims of cruelty, injustice, and oppression throughout the world.
• You uphold both the inner and the outer Jihad.
• Martyrdom lives in your heart, even while you are resting in your bedroom.
• Life appears as an opportunity to discover truth and reality.
• Death feels like embracing your Beloved for the very first time.