My Learnings

Imagine the human body. It has a heart that pumps blood, arteries that carry oxygen to every organ, and veins that bring blood back for renewal. When this system works, every part of the body — the brain, muscles, skin — thrives. Now imagine if blood stopped reaching one arm, or if the heart only pumped to the head and not the legs. That arm or leg would weaken, maybe even die. The body might still be “alive,” but it wouldn’t be healthy . That’s exactly how our financial system works — or, more accurately, how it should work. 🩸 Money = Blood, Banks = Arteries, Investments = Oxygen In a healthy economy: Money is like blood — it needs to circulate to every part of society. Banks, markets, and investors are like arteries — they carry money (oxygen) to businesses, workers, and communities. Savings, loans, and investments are like the nutrients that keep society alive and growing. When this circulation is balanced, every part of society — rich or poor, urban or rural — get...

I see it everywhere. In the anxious whisper of a friend wondering if their food is zabihah enough. In the swift, judgmental glance towards someone whose hijab doesn’t meet an unwritten standard. In the quiet exclusion of those who are deemed "not religious enough" because their practice looks different. This isn't an essay about one specific Islamic ruling. This is about a sickness of the heart that can sometimes infect our communities—a sickness born from a dangerous misunderstanding. It’s the belief that faith is a fortress to be defended with rigid rules, rather than a garden to be nurtured with compassion. We have become so skilled at following the letter of the law that we have, at times, forgotten its spirit. And in doing so, we are building invisible walls between ourselves and the very people we are meant to connect with: our fellow Muslims, and our fellow human beings. The Goodness of the Rule, The Danger of the Lens Let’s be clear. The rules—the ahkam—are not th...

 After the 1857 revolt, Indian Muslims faced political collapse and an identity crisis. Two major responses emerged: Deoband’s traditional revivalism and Sir Syed Ahmad Khan’s modernist reform. Both sought Muslim survival, yet followed opposite logics — one rooted in preservation, the other in adaptation. 1. Competing Visions Deoband believed strength lay in religious continuity: preserving Qur’anic learning, Arabic scholarship, and moral discipline would protect Muslims from Western secularization. Sir Syed argued that only modern education and integration into British institutions could lift Muslims from decline; theology had to evolve with reason and science. Each side captured one half of a complete solution — faith versus function. 2. Historical Outcomes Deoband’s legacy produced an extraordinary network of madarsas across South Asia and beyond. It maintained Islamic learning, spiritual ethics, and community identity through colonialism and independence. Yet, its insulation fr...

For centuries, the Islamic worldview provided a cohesive moral and intellectual framework that propelled civilization forward. It offered not just spiritual solace but a robust system of ethics, law, and scientific inquiry. Today, however, many Muslim societies find themselves at an intellectual impasse, where faith is often experienced as a rigid set of prohibitions rather than a dynamic source of enlightenment. The issue is not faith itself, but a prevailing culture that discourages critical engagement with it. To unlock our potential, we must relearn the art of questioning—not as an act of defiance, but as a profound religious and intellectual duty. Let’s examine the roots of our strength and the architecture of our current limitations. 🌙 The Unfulfilled Promise: Faith as a Dynamic Force The reduction of Islam to ritual and legalism obscures its deeper, empowering essence. The Foundational Imperative of Ijtihad: The "great closing of the gates of Ijtihad" is a historical ...

When news surfaced that an Afghan minister associated with the Taliban had visited Darul Uloom Deoband — and that the seminary appeared pleased with the occasion — reactions in India were mixed. For many observers, it raised uncomfortable questions about the relationship between one of India’s most respected Islamic seminaries and a regime that has become a global symbol of oppression and extremism. The issue isn’t merely about who visited whom. It’s about what such gestures represent — morally, ideologically, and politically — in a world where symbolism often outweighs explanation. The Historical Context Darul Uloom Deoband, founded in 1866 in Uttar Pradesh, is one of the most influential Islamic seminaries in the world. Its teachings inspired the Deobandi movement, which spread across South Asia and emphasized scholarship, simplicity, and a return to core Islamic principles. However, the same Deobandi tradition also shaped many madrasas in Pakistan and Afghanistan, from which the Tal...

For centuries, Muslims have been taught that riba—often equated with interest—is categorically forbidden in Islam. The Qur’an’s language against it is uncompromising. Yet one must ask:  Is the “interest” of modern finance truly the riba condemned in the Qur’an? Or have we inherited an understanding that may have drifted away from the original context and ethical intent? 🌾 The Historical Context of Riba In pre-Islamic Arabia, credit was personal and informal. The poor often borrowed from the wealthy, not to invest but to survive. If a borrower failed to repay on time, the lender would extend the deadline—with an increase. This repeated cycle led to the infamous practice of “doubling and redoubling” the debt (riba al-jāhiliyyah). The Qur’an directly condemned this system:  “O you who believe, do not consume riba, doubled and multiplied, but fear Allah so that you may be successful.” — Surah Āl ʿImrān 3:130 This was not a prohibition of all financial gain, but of oppressive usur...