“Those are matters of the world, not matters of religion.”

“Those are matters of the world, not matters of religion.”

A highly respectable gentleman during a discussion on an important subject observes the following:

“Yes, Islam is a major religion and its scriptures give a lot of guidance to mankind. That guidance is on various aspects of a man’s life. Religious matters are only one aspect. The overall guidance from religion is like a top level macro criteria (work hard, seek God’s help, be honest etc). But to be practical as we deal with and explore various aspects of our lives; economics, health matters / medicine, housing, transportation / engineering, food / agriculture, natural phenomenon / science; civic matters / law, politics etc, we have to expand each subject matter and develop expertise in those areas. 

Those are matters of the world, not matters of religion. To handle each of these respective areas we need leadership in them. The leadership in each area should be knowledgeable in the areas that they are leading. Thus a very learned leader in the field of Islamic theology can not lead in the field of science or economics because he/she is simply not knowledgeable in science and economics. How can one lead in a field where he does not have knowledge of that field? In fact this is how major mistakes with devastating results have occurred.

To say that by doing this we are separating matters of Duniya from the matters of religion is to confuse the subject. The Qur’an and the prophet themselves exhort man to develop learning and knowledge in each of the fields that form part of life.”

If we use Urdu equivalents of “world” and “religion” it will obviously be Dunyaa and Deen respectively. Let’s once again read the sentence “Those are matters of the world, not matters of religion” and try our best to figure out if we are(n’t) dividing the two, Dunyaa from Deen.

While the beautiful principles of Islam guide the overall life, when we come at the micro level then a significant part of the same life immediately goes beyond the purview of those beautiful principles and becomes the “matters of the world, not matters of religion”. If it still remains within the purview of those principles, will we call it “matters of the world” or the “matters of religion”? There is something amiss here. And we need to stop here for a while.

In our life – the complete life – we are either following Islam or we aren’t following it. There is no other option and position. For instance, when we are on a road then either we are observing the traffic rules or we are violating them. One cannot say that today I have firmly decided to neither observe nor violate any of the traffic rules in my entire journey from Dubai to Abu Dhabi.

Is “learning and knowledge” required in one part of life and not in others? If someone begins to “develop learning and knowledge in each part of the fields that form part of life” because of the exhortation from Qur’an and the Prophet then how “economics, health matters/medicine, housing, transportation/engineering, food/agriculture, natural phenomenon/science; civic matters/law, politics etc” will be the “matters of the world, not matters of religion”? Can we argue that a rudimentary knowledge of these areas will be the “matters of religion” but the advanced knowledge and expertise in these very same areas will become the “matters of the world”?

The same gentleman in another message on  a different subject argues: “Time has come that these large Muslim organizations use their base in the community and resources to improve and modernize madrasas so that the madrasa graduates become productive members of society and are able to help- their own families and community.” Earlier it was suggested by him that “matters dealing with madrasaas” are “religious issues”. What will happen if the madrasaas are modernised? What is not happening now which will happen then? How will the “madrasa graduates” become “productive members of society”? What is meant by society (does it include “religious” as well as “non-religious issues”? Why aren’t they “productive members of society” now (if they aren’t)?

There is some serious problem with our worldview due to a faulty education system. We as a people have to come to terms with the reality that Islam has NOT established two different worlds, Deeni and Dunyaawi or Spiritual and Material. It has a unified outlook towards (the complete) life, hence our unflinching belief in Tauheed. Life is a single entity as is the Universe. If the value of ALL that we do is determined by our INTENTION and the ultimate purpose behind it, then how much valid should the division be?

The division of Dunayy and Deen is very deep, however. This is why those, too, keep dividing the two who think that they aren’t dividing them. It is a hindrance in developing a correct worldview and it makes us constantly contradict ourselves. Moreover, this division is a big check against excellence. This division has created self-doubt among the ‘modern’ educated and a sense of guilt in them. It has created a sense of detachment from life among the ‘traditionally’ educated. They both are INCOMPLETE PRODUCTS from a faulty industry.

Thanks and salaam.

Wasim

Young Russians in search of faith are turning to Islam

Young Russians in search of faith are turning to Islam

By Will Englund
Washington Post Foreign Service


Path to jihad: Russia's new generation of Muslims
In the Russian heartland, young people are discovering spiritual fulfillment by turning to Islam, the religion of their Tatar ancestors.

ALMETYEVSK, RUSSIA Rustam Sarachev should have had a hangover the first time he set foot in the central mosque here. He had wanted to throw a raucous party the night before, a send-off for himself on his way to Islam. But the guys he was with had mocked him for even thinking about the mosque, and had gone off drinking on their own.

Russia's new generation of Muslims

So here he was, regretfully clearheaded in the daylight, 500 rubles unspent on vodka and still in his pocket, heading up the steps of the big salmon-colored mosque that dominates one end of this minor oil city east of the Volga.

It was late September 2006, the beginning of Ramadan. As he looks back on it now, he remembers that he wasn't sure why he had decided to come, or what to expect. He was 17, at loose ends, a self-described hooligan, a troublemaker, starting to get hardened by a life that was heading for the verges of the law, yet still vulnerable to the insults and disdain that seek out young men with no future here.

When he walked through the great double door of the mosque, he was taking his first steps toward joining an intense Islamic revival here in the Muslim heartland of Russia that is drawing particular strength from its young people.

Sarachev was 2 years old when the Soviet Union collapsed, 5 when the first war in Chechnya broke out, 12 on 9/11. His whole life has been an era of cataclysms, of an old world being torn apart, of war against Muslims, at home and abroad. Old identities, old certainties, have proved empty. And now he was joining others here of his own generation who are finding, in religion, an alternate authority. They are joining a global community, and at a time when great passions are stirring that community.

They learn at the mosque that Allah is punishing Iraqis for their heresies. They learn that 9/11 was carried out by American agents, or maybe agents from somewhere else, to provoke a war against Muslims. But they learn, too, that those who want to go and join the fight in Afghanistan, or Pakistan- and young men who aimed to do precisely that have passed through Almetyevsk - are in error. This is not the time. Islam needs them here, in Russia.

Their faith, in any case, is not ignited by politics. If it were, the Russian authorities would have cracked down on the mosque long ago. Sarachev came up those steps, on that day four years ago, not out of anger but in search of a way out of the pointlessness of his own life.

Built in the 1990s with Saudi backing, the mosque makes a strong physical statement. Inside, it features intricate woodwork, handsome red and green carpets and painstakingly assembled blue tile mosaics. On holidays, believers pack its services. During afternoon prayers, as they face to the southwest, toward Mecca, a window to their right might give them glimpses of a glorious pearly pink sky, otherworldly almost, even as the setting sun glints off the five golden domes of the Orthodox church across the way.

"I was shocked," remembers Sarachev. "I couldn't understand where I was. There were only young people, all around. They treated me so well. I'd never been welcomed like that before."

He saw familiar faces. Almas Tikhonov, who had been a big partier and a roughneck, and then had dropped from sight, was there, praying. Sarachev was impressed by the way Almas looked; there was a compelling serenity about him.

In the days that followed, that picture lingered in Sarachev's mind. He decided to go back to the mosque, and then again, and again. He had to endure the jibes of his old friends, and that was hard - but maybe it stiffened his resolve, too. As he began to see them in a new light, it made it simpler to give up the drinking, the hanging out on street corners, the sneaking off to a village where they could party all night, away from parents' eyes. Sarachev eventually came to understand that the world is full of devils, and that the duty of a good Muslim is to overcome those devils.

And somewhere here, he knows, though he's still working it through in his own mind, lies the meaning of jihad. "It's a struggle against those who don't believe," he says. "It's not a test. Jihad is a war."

Sarachev is a Tatar. His ancestors converted to Islam in the 9th century, when Tatarstan was a powerful state in its own right. For the past 450 years, the Tatars have lived under Russian domination; proud of their heritage, they consider themselves the natural leaders of Russia's 30 million Muslims.

But Sarachev's forebears didn't practice Islam the way he understands it today. Over a millennium, Tatars had developed a rich and complicated theology, comfortable with rational thought and mindful of the need to coexist with the Christian Russians. In Kazan, Tatarstan's capital, the religious establishment endeavors to carry on that tradition today.

But Soviet hostility to religion left most Tatars with only a perfunctory sense of their own Muslim inheritance. Growing up, Sarachev remembers, religion meant grandparents and holidays, and little else. Yet even then, just after the collapse of the Soviet Union, Arab proselytizers had come to Tatarstan, and they were preaching a different sort of Islam - starker, simpler, more puritanical. It has taken root here, and it appeals powerfully to young people who, like Sarachev, are drawn to its order and rules, and to its purity.

Slow acceptance

Almetyevsk, a city of 150,000 with no history to speak of - it was founded in 1955 - lies among low brown ridges, a four-hour drive east of Kazan. It's not material poverty here that drives young Tatars to Islam, because oil and gas have brought prosperity, but a spiritual poverty in a country where every institution, from schools to hospitals to the police, is riddled with cynicism and corruption.

Sarachev's parents divorced when he was young. His mother works at a pipe factory; Sarachev has a job there now, too, operating a hydraulic press. He still lives at his mother's apartment.

When he embraced Islam he learned that everyone is born with an inner faith, "and it is the parents who turn a person away from religion." Not necessarily one's literal parents, he adds; it could be a metaphor for society. But it's little wonder that his own mother and father were unhappy with his religious awakening and rejection of the culture they lived in.

"They didn't understand," he says. "There were fights and quarrels. But of course they had been very mad at me when I was getting home late and drunk." So when they saw that that stopped, they started, slowly, to come around. Now, he says, if his mother sees him praying at home, she'll close the door and won't interfere. (She adamantly refused to be interviewed for this article.)

This year, for the first time, they gave him the money to buy a sacrificial sheep.

Nov. 16 was the day Muslims honored Ibrahim, who intended to slit his son Ismail's throat but sacrificed a ram instead. After an early-morning service at the mosque, a large crowd moved outdoors to a parking area for buses. Now it was filled with farmers' trucks, each carrying a dozen or so restless sheep. Under a damp sky, the chief imam, in a gray hat made from fetal lamb's skin, presided. With him stood the head of the city administration, the veterinary officer, and plainclothes leaders from the security services.

The sheep - more than 600 of them, each hobbled with three feet tied together - were carried to wooden pallets laid out on the ground, where their jugular veins were slashed. Blood flowed down gutters that ran the length of each pallet. At times a butcher would have to sit on an animal for a minute or more after its head was half severed, as it kicked and heaved.

Then the carcasses were skinned and cut into three equal parts: one for the purchaser, one for his relatives, and one for the poor.

"Those who cut a Muslim into three parts are much worse than those who cut a sheep into three parts," said the imam, Nail bin Ahmad Sakhibzyanov.

Sarachev went home happy, proud in the profession of his faith. The imam went home happy, too. It was the biggest slaughter yet in Almetyevsk.

Striving for faith

Sakhibzyanov, 53, studied to be an imam in what was then Soviet Uzbekistan. He says he dealt with the KGB agents who infiltrated religious schools in those days by telling them what they wanted to hear. What a man says, he suggests, is not necessarily what's in his heart.

Today, this is what Sakhibzyanov says: that his goal is to help Tatars regain their traditional religion. Yes, he studied in Saudi Arabia in the 1990s, and yes, the school he runs uses a Saudi curriculum. But naturally he subscribes to the Tatars' traditional Hanafi branch of Islam, he says; if he didn't, his school would lose its license. He only wants to help the wayward Tatars, buffeted by centuries of Russian and Soviet rule, find their way.

His opponents in Kazan say his Islam is Hanafi in name only, that it otherwise bears the hallmarks of its Arab - or Salafi - origins. They say its focus on Islamic purity is the flip side of intolerance toward other Muslims, and narrow-minded zeal.

"Almetyevsk is the center of Islamic radicalism in Russia," says Rafik Mukhametshin, rector of the Russian Islamic University in Kazan. "They're trying to return to a mythical Islam. And they're unpredictable because they refuse to learn from history."

Almetyevsk, he says, is the most dangerous spot in Russia.

And yet part of Islam's appeal for Sarachev was its promise of simple domestic happiness.

"I had a choice," he says. "Either the street - alcohol and cigarettes and all that stuff - or a very pleasant atmosphere and pleasant people."

Now, instead of partying, he plays on an all-Muslim rugby team. He drinks coffee instead of vodka, and where once he danced, now he likes to take walks. The job is just a job, but the pay allows him to spend convivial hours at the banya - the Russian sauna.

His new friends at the mosque have married, and they have jobs and kids and cars. Sarachev's aim is to live the good, respectable life. He sees Islam as the way to achieve it.

That's not exactly radical. But he knows, uneasily, that there's more to his Islam than that. Faith is difficult and much is demanded. Islam has powerful enemies, not only the non-believers who wage war on Muslims but also the devil that lives in everyone. Error is widespread, and Sarachev is keen to avoid it, if he can only be sure how.

Sakhibzyanov tells his followers that the struggle is between the soul and the brain - between faith, in other words, and thought. The Muslim must strive for faith.

If that's true, his detractors argue, it's no wonder the imam's Islam has such a strong appeal for those who learned their values on the street, in the with-us-or-against-us world at the margins of society.

But not every young worshiper here has that background. Guzel Sharipova, 23, was everything as a student that Sarachev was not; she studied chemistry on a full scholarship in Kazan, and graduated with highest honors. It was in Kazan that Islam found her, thanks to an Arab boyfriend. She was living with her great-aunt, Galima Abdullina, a retired schoolteacher, and began asking her about the prayers she recited. Eventually, she put on a veil.

"She was a girl who loved life, and suddenly she became so religious," says Enzhe Anisimova, Abdullina's daughter. "We watched her as a baby, and she was so beautiful, and spreading light. Now she's so serious. Islam is very close to me, but that doesn't mean that I accept everything. Something in it really attracts Guzel. But what is it? If she has found answers to the questions she was trying to find answers to, maybe that solved something for her."

Sharipova says, "Everyone has a time to come to Islam." She draws deep satisfaction from the rules it imposes. That frees up so much. She works now as a chemist - with her brain - but she gives her attention to her soul.

And where Sarachev hopes Islam will bring him modest comforts, Sharipova treasures the way it allows her to discard life's vanities. "I'm trying to spend time on only necessary things," she says.

New expectations

Rustam Sarachev came to the mosque knowing almost nothing about Islam. Now he knows that praying to ancestors, or saints, is the worst imaginable sin. He knows that being Muslim is more important than being a Tatar. He knows that the Russian special services don't like Islam because the alcohol and tobacco Muslims reject are big businesses. He knows those same special services dread the day when all people turn to Islam.

His ancestors, in centuries past, drank beer and mead at weddings and often sought the intercession of their forebears in prayer. Would Sarachev consider them Muslims if he met them today - or devils? In his earnest way, he's only beginning to deal with the difficult questions. He's happy that Islam is helping him find the answers.

"Everyone eventually asks, 'Why am I here? Why will I die? What will happen after I die?' You gradually start to understand who you are and why you were created."

It is, he says, to live a pure Muslim's life. And, through Islam, all is spelled out. "The prophet showed people everything - from how to go to the toilet to how to run a state." But there's still so much to get straight in his own mind.

Last year, Sarachev got to know some young men who wanted to pick up guns and go fight abroad. They weren't from the mosque. He thinks they had taught themselves Islam on the Internet. Sometimes, when they met on the street, they'd start urging him to go off and fight against Americans.

He says he was troubled by it, and as he describes it he still looks troubled by it. He's struggling to understand even now what's expected of him by his religion. He went to the mosque and asked the imams for advice.

They explained to him, he says, that these young men were mistaken. "Those people who say they want to fight, they're like foam on water. There's a lot of foam, but it's useless."

Eventually they went away, he doesn't know where. Sarachev, yearning to dig deeper into Islam, is still uncertain about jihad, and the fight against devils. "It's very complicated. I don't want to be wrong."

Sakhibzyanov knew about the would-be fighters. All Muslims, he says, know they are part of a larger community that must defend itself. But leaving Tatarstan to fight elsewhere is, he says, the wrong choice. "They are needed here."

The imam is a savvy navigator in a potentially hostile culture. Islam, he says, is a peaceful religion, violence is a sin and the task for Rustam Sarachev and other young Muslims is to keep studying and deepening their certainty in its purity and oneness. And then more will follow, and then more.
 

Talking About Muslims Is A Fashion

Talking About Muslims Is A Fashion

For long I have been wondering why we talk about Muslims so much? Now it appears to me that it is merely a fashion and a noble pastime. We get conditioned to this culture and fashion learning it very well from the older generations and the environments we grow in. We notice it at every level and in every place. All possible means and platforms are being used for talking about Muslims. One amount of talking leads to an increased amount of talking. It is one of the trendy things to do. Talking about Muslims is a fashion which is always in fashion.

Those who are well settled and have some or a lot of free time they indulge in this entertaining and self-aggrandizing exercise and earn some name and fame in doing so. They become the community leaders and have become uncountable. I sincerely wish we didn’t have so much concern about Muslims that we did not have time to find out the reasons of this concern. I wish we weren’t so busy treating this patient that we forgot to conduct some tests for diagnosing the disease first.

When we shed a lot of tears about Muslims it gives us sadistic delight. It shows that we are much better off than those wretched creatures. In other words we say, “See how different am I? I am a class apart! I am so much different!” Profuse talking about Muslims is an expression and reinforcement of a herd-mentality at its best or worst. It is symptomatic of the fact that we do not think twice about the things that we talk about and do. This is one of those fashions which is not getting old. Talking about Muslims is always in vogue.

We look for excuses to talk about Muslims – of which we get plenty. A recent example is the case of Anna Hazare. It provoked many to ask why there is no Anna Hazare in Muslims. I always wonder that those who yearn for Anna Hazares why don’t they become Anna Hazares themselves. They are the most qualified ones for the job because they know that there is a need for Hazares more than anybody else. It reminds me of a nikaah ceremony. The khateeb fervently prayed many times over that a Salahuddin Ayyubi is born to the newly married couples. I wondered why he did not have any such hope from the already married ones and why he did not become Salahuddin Ayyubi himself knowing the urgent need of one – more than anybody else.

The same applies to our yearning and crying for Sir Syed Ahmad Khans and Muhammad Iqbals. Those who lament for them are obliged to become a Syed and an Iqbal. They are obliged because they are the ones who realize their need more than anyone else. The ones who realize a particular need the most are most obliged to supply what is needed. If they do not become what they think is needed the most it will be a breach of trust and they will be held accountable for the absence of Syeds and Iqbals.

But our job ends at lamenting and praying. Why do we expect a lot from (other) Muslims (and not from ourselves) is not of much concern. We want different things from Muslims but don’t do anything different for that. We keep doing the same things and keep asking for different results. But this is not a concern. Because the concern for the Muslims is the only concern. The fashion of talking about the Muslims is always in fashion – come what may.

What is not in fashion is to find out what are the reasons of this talking and concern? We get different reasons for this – none of those qualifies to be called a reason. Poverty, backwardness and number (which is always less than desired) is not the prerogative of Muslims. If the economic condition of Muslims is the reason then what about those who are poorer than Muslims? They deserve to be talked about even more. If educational backwardness is the reason then they aren’t the only ones to occupy that rung.

As a small step towards reducing the abundant talks about Muslims I propose to ask what are the reasons behind talking about Muslims. I intend to ask this question a thousand times till I get a satisfying answer, in sha Allah.

Thanks and salaam.

Wasim

کیا علم رکھنے والے اور علم سے کورے افراد یکساں ہوسکتے ہیں؟

کیا علم رکھنے والے اور علم سے کورے افراد یکساں ہوسکتے ہیں؟

ایک مشہور دانشور نے ایک بار کہا تھا کہ ’’انسانوں میں چار قسم کے لوگ ہوتے ہیں، ایک قسم ان لوگوں کی ہے جو جاننے والے ہیں اور ان کو یہ بھی معلوم ہوتا ہے کہ وہ جاننے والے ہیں، یہ لوگ عالم ہوتے ہیں، ایسے لوگوں کی اقتدا کرنی چاہئے، کچھ لوگ ایسے ہوتے ہیں جو بہت کچھ جانتے ہیں لیکن ان کو اس بات کا علم نہیں ہوتا کہ وہ جانتے ہیں ایسے لوگ نیند کا شکار ہیں، ان کو بیدار کرنے کی ضرورت ہے، ایک قسم ان لوگوں کی ہے جو کچھ نہیں جانتے اور ان کو اس بات کا علم ہوتا ہے کہ انہیں کچھ بھی نہیں معلوم، وہ طالب علم ہوتے ہیں، ان کو تعلیم کی ضرورت ہوتی ہے، ایسے لوگوں کو تعلیم دینا چاہئے، ایک قسم ان لوگوں کی ہوتی ہے جو کچھ بھی نہیں جانتے اور ان کو نہیں معلوم ہوتا کہ وہ کچھ بھی نہیں جانتے، یہ بے وقوف لوگ ہوتے ہیں ان سے ہوشیار رہنے کی ضرورت ہے۔

علم روشنی ہے۔ جاہلیت اندھیرا ہے۔ روشنی سے نفرت کرنے والے افراد بہت کم ہی ہوتے ہیں کیوں کہ روشنی راہ یابی کے لیے بہت مددگار ہوتی ہے، اسی طرح علم ہے جوانسان کی نجات کے لیے بہت اہمیت کا حامل ہے۔
گزشتہ چار پانچ صدیوں میں انسانیت کی بھرپورکوشش اور توجہ صرف مادی علم کے ارتقاء اور فروغ پر مبنی تھی، اس میدان میں بہت کچھ اور غیرمعمولی ترقی ہوئی،تہذیب وتمدن میں، معاشرے کی فلاح میں، تہذیب کے ارتقاء میں انسان کی حصولیابیوں کا راستہ سائنس نے ہموار کیا ہے۔ سائنس اور ٹکنالوجی کا بھی یہی حال ہے۔

لیکن اس کے ساتھ ساتھ انسان نے روحانی اور غیبی علم کے سلسلہ میں عدم توجہی برتی ہے، چنانچہ روحانیت کے میدان میں معاملہ صفر درجہ تک پہنچ گیا، دنیا کی تباہی کی جانب لے جانے والی مذہب بیزاری اور اقدار کا انحطاط اسی کا نتیجہ ہے، انسان کی ختم نہ ہونے والی اندرونی بے چینی کا اصل سبب بھی یہی ہے۔

دراصل علم ایک بہت بڑی نعمت ہے، لیکن اس کے منفعت بخش ہونے کے لیے دوشرطیں ہیں، ایک اس کی اہمیت کا ادراک ہے، اور دوسری بات حاصل کردہ علم کا شعور ہے، اگر یہ دونوں نہیں ہیں تو ایسے علم سے ذاتی یا معاشرتی زندگی میں کچھ فائدہ حاصل ہونے والا نہیں ہے، وہ نور اور روشنی نہیں بن سکے گا، وہ راہ یابی میں کچھ بھی معاون نہیں ہوگا۔

جاہل کی مثال ایک اندھے کی ہے، یا گھٹا ٹوپ تاریکی میں بھٹکتے مسافر کی ہے، اگر اپنی ذات کے سلسلہ میں شعور نہیں ہے، تو دوسروں سے مدد لی جاسکتی ہے، نہیں تو اندھیرے ہی میں آگے بڑھنا ہوگا، ایسے لوگ بہت سے خطرات کا شکار ہوجاتے ہیں، اپنی جاہلیت سے ناواقف افراد اپنی تباہی کے ساتھ ساتھ دوسروں کو بھی تباہی کی طرف لے جاتے ہیں، اگر ایک اندھاشخص ایک صحیح وسالم فرد کی طرح حرکتیں کرنے لگے، تو اس کو کن خطرات کا سامنا کرنا پڑے گا، اس کا اندازہ آپ لگاسکتے ہیں۔

اگر روحانی علم حاصل کرنے والے مادی علم سے دور ہوں گے، تو یہ ضروی نہیں کہ ایک روحانی علم رکھنے والا فرد مادی علم سے بھی واقف ہو، مادی تعلیم میں دینی تعلیم حاصل نہیں ہوتی ہے، لیکن اس حقیقت سے بہت سے لوگ ناآشنا ہوتے ہیں اور اس کا انجام بہت خطرناک ہوتا ہے، مذہبی علم کی بنیادی چیزوں سے ناواقفیت کے باوجود مذہبی امورمیں صلاح دینا اور اپنی رائے پیش کردینا آج ایک عام سی بات ہوگئی ہے، مذہبی علم حاصل کرنے والے دوسرے میدانوں میں جنگ کی کو شش کرتے ہیں، اس کی مثال بالکل ایسی ہی ہے کہ حساب کا ماہر ایک فرد مریض کا آپریشن کرنے لگ جائے، اس طرح اپنے علم کے حدود سے ناواقف رہنے والے اپنے ساتھ دیگر افراد کو بھی تباہی کی طرف لے جاتے ہیں، ان کے سلسلہ میں ہوشیار رہنا چاہئے۔ (ھل یستوی الذین یعلمون والذین لا یعلمون۔ کیا علم رکھنے والے اور علم سے کورے افراد یکساں ہوسکتے ہیں۔

(مرحوم ابراہیم سعید صاحب: ترجمہ محمد شوکت علی ، کرناٹک)

Talha Siddibapa

Jeddah