Personal Development
Mohamedarif Mohamed Suleman (Dar es Salaam, Tanzania) is a digital marketing specialist and an Educator-cum-Trainer. He has involved himself in community organisations and matters from a young age, and through his writings, continues to speak of social and cultural reform to this day. He is also the founding moderator of this forum (1996).
We must take a moment to ask ourselves, “Why are we really at the mosque?” in the lively environment of Ramadhan, when acts of devotion and community delight abound. This question is not only rhetorical; it goes right to the heart of our intentions. Are we carrying out a social duty, or are we sincerely trying to establish a connection with the Divine? Understanding our reasons as we continue on our spiritual journey during this holy month requires an awareness of our desire to show off, or Riyaa.
We confront the quiet manifestations of riyaa – the Islamic term for showing off. This insidious trait can transform our noble acts into mere spectacles, tainting our intentions and potentially jeopardising our spiritual rewards. During Ramadhan, the stakes are higher as we strive for authenticity and deepen our connection to Allah (SWT). The profound hunger of the soul during this holy month calls us to discern the true essence of our actions beyond the clamour of worldly approval.
Ramadhan unfolds with a unique rhythm, beginning with the pre-dawn suhoor, an act of both sustenance and devotion. Imam Ali (AS) emphasised, “Actions are judged by their intentions,” a reminder that our spiritual pursuits should be inward-focused rather than outwardly displayed. Yet, in an age where social media reigns, the temptation to “blow one’s own horn” can overshadow the sincerity we aim to cultivate. For instance, sharing lavish iftaar spreads on platforms like TikTok and Instagram or seeking validation through extended prayers performed under the gaze of others can dilute our true purpose.
Imam Ali ibn Abi Talib (AS) viewed worship not merely as a set of rituals, but as a profound, focused, and intimate connection with the Creator, characterised by total detachment from the world and complete submission to Allah (SWT). His approach to worship emphasised the “presence of the heart” (hudhur al-qalb), sincerity, and love, rather than just the physical actions.
As Khoja Shia Ithnasheries, we are fortunate to have a well-organised leadership structure that guides us in our spiritual and communal lives. However, if we continue to turn our mosques and centres into unstructured and undisciplined places, we risk compromising the sanctity of our worship spaces. Are we truly at the mosque to connect with the Divine, or are we simply there for a social gathering?
If character isn’t the true benchmark, one might question whether going to the mosque daily serves merely social purposes rather than connecting with the Divine. It’s essential to recognise that the easy acts of treating employees with respect are only part of the equation. How we engage with friends, neighbours, and other community members carries equal weight. We cannot preach values we do not practice; the demonstration of our faith should extend beyond the walls of worship.
Reflecting on my own experience, I recall an article published early on in the life of The Community on Friday, written by a mother of young children. She eloquently reported about the bacha nu room, where it was nearly impossible for mothers to hear anything or follow the rituals due to the noise and chaos. Fast forward to today, how many floors of Mehfile Abbas (AS) are genuinely conducive to listening to majlis? It seems as though we have surrendered to the idea that children must be left alone at all times. But who will shepherd them to understand the sanctity of our mosques, the importance of the sermons, and the essence of worship?
The issue of showing off is not limited to the general populace; it is particularly prevalent among the wealthy. During Ramadhan, those with means might flaunt their generosity through lavish iftaar spreads or extravagant charitable donations, seeking recognition rather than genuine altruism. While supporting those in need is commendable, the essence of giving must come from humility and a genuine desire to help, not from a quest for admiration.
Imam Ali (AS) cautioned against pride, stating, “Beware of pride, for it is the root of all sin.” This wisdom urges us to pivot away from fleeting applause into a deeper pursuit of contentment and inner peace. Allama Iqbal beautifully highlights this struggle, asserting that true enlightenment comes from silent surrender rather than the ego’s performance. This recognition demands vigilant muhasabah – self-assessment that can unveil our hidden motives. For example, a reflective journaling session after Maghrib can help us question: Are we driven by a desire for Allah’s reward, or are we simply “putting on airs”?
Ramadhan is not merely a month of feasting and celebration; it is a time to examine our existing lifestyles and test who we truly are. Rather than succumbing to the allure of late-night festivities, we should focus on the essence of devotion and self-restraint. Affluence may allow indulgence, but true wealth lies in the spiritual growth we pursue. This month is not about showcasing abundance; it is an opportunity to cultivate a deeper, more sincere faith.
We are surrounded by distractions, and late-night gatherings can overshadow the true purpose of Ramadhan. The festive atmosphere might seem inviting, but we must ask ourselves: Are these celebrations enhancing our spirituality or merely distracting us? Imam Ali (AS)’s assertion that “hunger is a healing tonic” is a reminder that fasting transcends mere abstinence; it requires nourishing our souls.
However, today’s challenges complicate this sacred journey. The nocturnal lifestyle of Ramadhan, characterised by late-night gatherings and feasting, often inverts the wisdom behind fasting. Many indulge in extensive suhoor meals, only to lose the essence of the fast during daylight hours. Affluence may grant the luxury of late nights, yet Ramadhan was not meant to alter our lifestyles but to test our existing ones. It is not a month of festival and showing off but a month of devotion – a rare opportunity to attain His nearness and fulfil the purpose of our being.
As the Qur´an reminds us, “O you who have believed, decreed upon you is fasting” (2:183) not just to abstain from food, but to find greater empathy for those who suffer daily. The modern trend of nocturnal excess often distracts from Ramadhan’s true purpose. Imam Ali (AS) reminds us, “Hunger is a healing tonic,” yet relentless feasting dulls our spiritual acuity. What begins as a celebration of fraternity can morph into a festival of excess – sports tournaments and bustling bazaars overshadowing the solitude needed for night prayers. In vibrant communities, the festive atmosphere, though communal, frequently eclipses the deeper spiritual reforms Ramadan aims to inspire.
With these challenges in mind, the practice of muhasabah, or self-assessment, becomes crucial. Ramadhan is the perfect time for reflection. Consider journaling or engaging in mindful prayers. Ask yourself honestly: What truly drives you? Are your motivations pure, or are you seeking to impress others? Identifying triggers that prompt us to act like peacocks can help redirect our intentions toward sincerity.
As we conclude this reflection, let’s focus on the rewards of genuine practice. Rumi wisely said, “Yesterday I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today I am wise, so I am changing myself.” This transformation is what we should strive for during Ramadhan. It’s not about how we appear to others, but about how we connect with the Divine.
Let this Ramadan be a time to shed the ostentatious plumage of the peacock. By recognising and overcoming the desire to show off, we can fully experience the spiritual richness of this month. When Eid arrives, let it be a celebration of humility, empathy, and sincerity – not a display of excess and showmanship.
Societies often idolise visibility and grandeur; yet, embracing humility and authenticity is essential. As we navigate our spiritual journeys, recognising the pitfalls of riyaa, confronting the challenges of distractions at the mosque, and allowing life’s trials to purify our intentions can lead us toward lasting fulfilment. With the wisdom of Imam Ali (AS) and insights from our traditions, may our journeys during Ramadhan reflect true devotion and bring us ever closer to our Creator.
Recent posts
- Sabr and Shukr – The Two Wings of a Believer
- The Professional Islamic Model: “Model the Prophet”
- When my Teacher Trust ed Me
Search by date
| S | M | T | W | T | F | S |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | |||
| 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 |
| 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 |
| 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 |
| 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | ||
Writers Panel | A Simple Thought | Obituaries | Ziarat Ashura | Islamic Calendar | Facebook
