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Bismillah The concept of plausible truth within the Preserved Tablet (Lawḥ al-Maḥfūẓ) is articulated in the Quran, notably in Al-Burūj 85:22 and Al-Ḥadīd 57:22, which affirm that nothing occurs on Earth or within human beings without first being recorded in a divine register prior to its actualization. This principle embodies both divine predestination and omniscience while simultaneously affirming human moral responsibility. Observations of the contemporary environment suggest that the natural equilibrium (mīzān) has been altered by human activity, resulting in intensified storms and altered seasonal patterns. Although the extent to which these changes are anthropogenic or natural remains a complex scientific question, the Quranic perspective emphasizes the accountability of humans for the ecological disruption they cause. Predestination raises critical questions regarding human agency: if God possesses complete knowledge of the timing of death and all events, does this entail that human decisions are predetermined? Islamic theology clarifies that divine foreknowledge does not negate human free will. The Quran affirms God’s omniscience and absolute will, as in Al-Qamar 54:49, Al-Anʿām 6:59, and Ar-Raʿd 13:11, while maintaining that humans are morally responsible for their actions and accountable for them, as stated in Al-Jathiya 45:15. Predestination, therefore, concerns divine knowledge and governance rather than coercion of human choice. An analogy to natural causality illustrates this principle: knowledge of a future event does not cause its occurrence. For example, foreseeing rainfall does not bring it about, though it allows for preparation. Similarly, God’s awareness of the moment of an individual’s death does not annul the freedom exercised during life. Human existence can be likened to a river: God comprehends its ultimate course, but individuals determine their own navigation. In this metaphor, God is the director of life’s narrative, while humans act as agents experiencing and shaping their actions moment by moment. Qadar, or divine decree, can also be examined through psychological and physiological frameworks. Human choices emerge from complex interactions among character, habits, cognition, emotion, past experience, social context, and motivation. Neuroscience demonstrates that behavior arises from structured mental processes. In Islamic thought, God possesses complete knowledge of the inner constitution of each individual, including their dispositions and limitations, as the Creator of both the human being and the causal networks shaping personality. Divine knowledge thus encompasses future choices, yet these choices originate genuinely from human free will. Physiologically, human behavior is mediated by neuroelectrical activity, cardiac electromagnetic fields, hormonal fluctuations, and emotional states, all of which influence cognition and action. Positive emotional states and spiritual practices, including prayer and meditation, mitigate stress and promote psychophysiological equilibrium, whereas fear and anger activate specific biological pathways. Repetitive behaviors restructure neural networks, facilitating or inhibiting tendencies toward beneficial or harmful actions. All of these processes fall within divine knowledge, as God establishes the natural and psychological laws governing human conduct. Human actions may be conceptualized as waves propagating through the world, analogous to phenomena measurable by scientific instrumentation. The Preserved Tablet records these possibilities and outcomes without constraining human freedom: while humans enact their choices, God possesses foreknowledge of all actions prior to their manifestation. Qadar can thus be understood as the interaction of three domains: the creation of physical, psychological, and spiritual laws by God; human agency operating within these frameworks; and divine omniscience encompassing all causes, effects, and potentialities. Within this integrated paradigm, human autonomy and divine sovereignty coexist harmoniously: humans exercise authentic volition, and God’s perfect omniscience apprehends the ultimate outcome of every choice. Alhamdullillah.

"And Allah has made for you from your homes a place of rest…”  (Sura An-Nahl, 16 :80) The concept of home, both in the Qur’an and in human experience, is far more complex than its mere physical structure. It intertwines material, symbolic, spiritual, and cosmological dimensions. Even a garden can be a home : an open space where sky and earth meet and dance together. Each person gives home a unique meaning; for some, it is a dream, for others a reality, and for yet others, an inner sanctuary where one can find peace. One truth remains universal: home is a place of rest, of calm, of safety, whether it is a grand villa or a small mountain cottage. Its essential purpose is to welcome, protect, and restore balance. Across the globe, human beings share a common need: to dwell in spaces that foster comfort and serenity, close to life’s natural rhythms. European hermits in the jungles of Kerala, secluded dwellers in African forests, or residents of the Swiss Alps - though living in vastly different circumstances - all seek the same thing: a home that cultivates inner peace. Home, then, cannot be reduced to bricks, wood, or stone ; it is an environment that sustains identity, nurtures well-being, and anchors a sense of belonging. It organizes life, like a “heart” harmonizing the whole. The heart, indeed, is the engine of the world, holding together its architecture. Modern scientific research has begun to resonate with what the Qur’an has long affirmed: the human heart (qalb in Arabic) is at the center of spiritual, moral, and intellectual perception. After long days spent navigating work, trains, and crowded highways, the thought of home naturally emerges as a place of arrival. Without a home, the absence is profoundly felt, for the home is the “heart” of life, vital for both emotional and spiritual health. Even a garden can become a home. Take Nora’s Garden, where the scent of early wintersweet and the aroma of burning wood drift along quiet November streets, evoking ancient symbolisms: proof of an invisible thread connecting human life to its deeper history. This understanding highlights how the concept of home (al-bayt in Arabic) carries multiple layers of meaning. From its ordinary sense—a divine gift meant for rest and protection—to the Kaaba (Al-Bayt al-Haram), the Sacred House that unites all humanity, home encompasses both the tangible and the transcendent. Reading the Qur’an literally without contemplating its deeper architecture obscures this richness. The Qur’an is a text to be explored piece by piece; only then does the astonishing complexity of its forms and meanings emerge. Even the theme of “home” alone contains entire worlds of significance, speaking to the mind and soul alike, inviting reflection on the spiritual, symbolic, and universal dimensions of our existence. Islamic tradition holds that the Kaaba is not a recent structure. Adam, the first human and prophet, built its earliest form under divine guidance, creating the first human home of worship. Later, Abraham and Ishmael rebuilt its foundations, as the Qur’an recounts: “And [mention] when Abraham and Ishmael were raising the foundations of the House, [saying], ‘Our Lord, accept [this] from us. Indeed, You are the Hearing, the Knowing.’”  (Al-Baqarah, 2:127) Thus, the Kaaba becomes humanity’s “first home,” a universal symbol. From anywhere on Earth: Asia, Africa, Europe, the Americas, or Australia, Muslims pray facing it, a testament to humanity’s spiritual unity and the absolute oneness of God. Home extends even further: the Earth itself is a grand home, designed to sustain human life in harmony. According to the Qur’an, the world was created with measure and proportion, a divine geometry . Understanding this harmony in nature is key to designing homes that do more than shelter, they become spaces of rest, reflection, and remembrance of Allah, where body and soul find serenity together. Architecture, then, must align with the logic of nature, creating spaces that foster both repose and spiritual awareness. A home built in this spirit is more than functional; it is an environment that nurtures contemplation. Remembrance of God encourages reflection, reflection brings serenity, and a home that fosters divine remembrance becomes a place of peace and harmony. Islamic architectural texts emphasize this principle: spatial layout, the use of light, the flow between interior and exterior, the presence of water and gardens, and geometric proportions all contribute to a home that sustains both body and soul. Home, in essence, is not merely a living space or a functional structure. It is a divine gift, a universal symbol, an inner center, a reflection of cosmic order, and a trace of humanity’s first home. It may be a house, a garden, the Earth itself, or the Sacred House: but always, it is the place where the body rests and the soul returns to itself. Its significance goes far beyond comfort. It will continue to accompany humanity through every stage of life, a constant point of reference, both material and spiritual. Just as humans seek a place of rest, animals too build homes in harmony with their ecosystem, guided by geometry, proportion, and balance. Each natural refuge embodies protection, sustenance, and continuity, reflecting the order and harmony of creation as described in the Quran.

"Verily, in the body there is a piece of flesh which, if it is sound, the whole body is sound; and if it is corrupt, the whole body is corrupt. Verily, it is the heart.”(Sahih al-Bukhari, Sahih Muslim) When I spend time in my garden, I often feel that I am not merely tending to plants, but I am in conversation with something deeper. Each leaf, each root, each fragile bloom seems to whisper a language of connection, of balance, of life unfolding effortlessly when it is in harmony with its source. Over time, I began to see that what happens in the soil mirrors what happens in the human soul. When the earth is nourished, it gives freely. When it’s polluted or neglected, it withers. The same is true of the heart. And so I began to wonder: what if our greatest intelligence does not come from the head, but from the heart itself? The Heart as Inner Compass For centuries, the Qur’an has spoken of the heart not merely as a physical organ, but as the seat of consciousness and understanding. "He it is who sent down tranquility into the hearts of the believers, that they may add faith to their faith". (Surah Al-Fath, 48:4) "Except for the one who comes to Allah with a pure heart (qalb salim)", (Surah Ash-Shu`ara, 26:89) These verses describe the heart as the center of both peace and perception: the place where divine guidance settles, and from which true wisdom arises. And now, remarkably, modern science is beginning to echo this ancient truth. Research from the HeartMath Institute  and others has shown that the heart possesses its own neural network — a “brain within the heart” that communicates with the brain in the head through electrical and biochemical signals. When the heart’s rhythm is smooth and coherent — a pattern that appears during feelings of love, gratitude, and compassion — it brings the entire body into balance. Our emotions become stable, our minds clearer, and our decisions wiser. Scientists call this heart-brain coherence . The Qur’an calls it sakīnah  — divine tranquility that descends upon a believing heart. In the Qur’an, the heart is more than just a vessel of feeling: it is the seat of understanding, the compass of moral clarity. It is where truth quietly speaks, and where peace quietly begins. “The Day when neither wealth nor children will avail, except for the one who comes to Allah with a pure heart.”(Surah Ash-Shu‘ara, 26:88–89) A qalb salīm , a pure heart, is like soft, fertile soil: open, humble, ready to receive. It absorbs wisdom, nurtures love, and gives rise to compassion. When I tend to my garden, I see the same truth mirrored in the soil. Compacted, rocky, or poisoned earth produces nothing. But when the ground is loose, nourished, and receptive, life springs up almost instantly. Faith and awareness, the Qur’an reminds us, are like seeds: they only take root in soil that is open and prepared. Our thoughts are water; our intentions, sunlight. When the inner soil is tended with care, growth is inevitable. “Indeed, We created man, and We know what his heart whispers to him, and We are closer to him than his jugular vein.”(Surah Qaf, 50:16) This verse always resonates deeply with me. It is a reminder that the heart’s whisper is never separate from the Divine. Each time I plant a seed or water a sapling, I sense the same closeness — a silent dialogue between Creator, creation, and the heart that listens. Modern science increasingly echoes what the Qur’an has long expressed: everything in creation is connected. A 2022 study in the International Research Journal on Islamic Studies  described “heart intelligence” as a way to approach complex challenges with wisdom and empathy — a bridge between spiritual insight and scientific understanding. This is exactly what the garden teaches. Every element of an ecosystem: the soil, the insects, the roots, the airexists in relationship. When one part suffers, the whole system shifts. Humanity works in the same way. Our collective heart has drifted out of alignment, and the planet reflects that imbalance. Pollution, conflict, disconnection: these are not isolated problems; they are the visible echoes of inner unrest. Just as a single diseased leaf can signal distress in an entire tree, a heart clouded with anger or greed ripples through the collective. In my garden, I have learned that growth does not come from force or control, but from relationship, patience, and balance. Even when beds are uneven or plants grow chaotically side by side, a quiet harmony guides them. The same intelligence pulses within us. When we slow down, breathe deeply, and let the heart’s rhythm settle, we reconnect with that natural order. We become more intuitive, more compassionate, more awake. Peace is no longer a distant ideal, but it becomes a living rhythm, a melody flowing through body and soul. The Qur’an, my garden, and modern research all point to the same truth: the heart is both a biological organ and a spiritual sanctuary. It is where heaven and earth meet — the threshold between the seen and the unseen. Perhaps the greatest intelligence of all is simply this: to live with a heart so attuned, so soft and open, that it mirrors the harmony of the world itself. Every morning in my garden, I stop seeing soil and plants as mere matter. I see verses made visible. Each leaf, each unfolding bud feels like a reminder that life is sustained by connection, not dominance. A qalb salīm  is a pure, living heart, like this garden: receptive, connected, at peace And when our hearts find that harmony, perhaps the world itself begins to heal.

Bismillah. The Qur’an does not indicate that human beings are meant to remain in miserable or unfavorable conditions. Just as nature provides examples of flowers that grow in unusual corners of a garden, seeking the most suitable place for themselves, human beings are similarly invited to orient themselves toward contexts and situations that foster their growth and well-being. In Islam, the soul naturally gravitates toward what is benevolent and spiritually elevated: prayer (ṣalāh), dhikr (remembrance of God), and reading the Qur’an serve as tools through which the soul is purified and finds serenity. Pure and serene environments—such as mosques, nature, or places where one feels close to God—promote an inner state of peace. As the Qur’an states: “O tranquil soul, return to your Lord well-pleased and well-accepted.” (Sura al-Fajr 89:27-28) This implies that the soul follows what brings serenity, peace, and spiritual fulfillment, while actions, places, or people that divert it from good generate unease. Islam thus encourages pursuing what benefits the soul and freeing oneself from that which harms it. However, common perception is often distorted: many people remain in unfavorable situations thinking it is God’s will. In reality, Allah desires good for each of us and, through life’s events, invites us to discern what is beneficial. This concept is clearly expressed in verses such as: Sura al-Baqara 2:216: “Perhaps you dislike something which is good for you, and perhaps you love something which is bad for you. Allah knows, while you do not know.” Sura al-Ma’ida 5:100: “Allah desires ease for you, not hardship.” Sura al-An’am 6:54: “…Allah desires to make His signs clear to you, so that you may understand and receive guidance.” These verses confirm that no one is required to remain in miserable situations, and human beings are encouraged to actively seek good, both individually and socially. Society and culture have often distorted the original meaning of the Qur’an, using it to justify oppression or passivity, diverting people from pursuing their genuine spiritual well-being. The Qur’an, in its essence, elevates humanity toward Goodness, reminding individuals to follow the path of Allah, the ultimate source of life and the irreplaceable guide for every human being. As practical tools for life, Qur’anic instructions provide a genuine “user manual” for human existence, comparable to a technical manual necessary for the proper operation of a complex system: if it is necessary to understand every detail of an advanced machine, it is even more essential to comprehend the functioning of one’s own soul. According to the Islamic worldview, the purpose of life consists of living according to God, doing good, and purifying the soul, as every trial, difficulty, or joy contributes to spiritual growth and eternal happiness. This message is universal: the Qur’an addresses all humanity, regardless of ethnicity, tribe, or culture, as expressed in verses such as: Sura al-Baqara 2:213: “Mankind was [of] one community; then Allah sent the prophets as guides…” Sura al-Hujurat 49:13: “O mankind! We created you from a male and a female, and made you peoples and tribes so that you may know one another. Indeed, the noblest of you in the sight of Allah is the most pious.” The Qur’an also acknowledges other monotheistic traditions and their prophets, such as Abraham, Moses, and Jesus, emphasizing that justice and goodness are what truly matter, beyond mere religious affiliation (Sura al-Baqara 2:62). It speaks of equity between men and women, the rich and the poor, slaves and free people (Sura An-Nisa 4), affirming that piety and righteousness are the true measures of nobility before God. In light of these teachings, it is clear that no one is meant to remain in situations that harm the soul: Islam, in its essence, guides toward freedom, growth, and spiritual happiness, while humanity still has much to learn to fully understand and apply these principles. The Unity of Humanity According to the Qur’an and Science Further confirmation of the Qur’anic vision of human unity comes from modern science. Studies in genetics and molecular anthropology have demonstrated that all human beings share a common genetic origin. Human DNA is 99.9% identical across all individuals; minor genetic variations explain superficial physical differences such as skin color, eyes, or hair, but the fundamental structure of humanity is the same for all. Genetic studies indicate that modern humans descend from a relatively small group of African ancestors who lived approximately 200,000 years ago. This concept, known as “Out of Africa,” confirms that humanity is biologically unitary: all populations of the world originate from common ancestors and share the same basic genetic heritage. This scientific discovery aligns perfectly with the Qur’anic message. The Qur’an states: “O mankind! We created you from a male and a female, and made you peoples and tribes so that you may know one another. Indeed, the noblest of you in the sight of Allah is the most pious.” (Sura al-Hujurat 49:13) Just as science shows that we are all connected by a common DNA, the Qur’an emphasizes that spiritual unity and piety are what truly render human beings noble, not race, geographic origin, or social status. Biology confirms that, ultimately, we are all brothers and sisters within the human species, reinforcing the Islamic principle that true dignity and value derive from righteousness and goodness. In this sense, human beings, like the soul that seeks serenity, can move, grow, and choose life paths that bring them closer to good, without being bound to situations that limit or make them unhappy. Science and the Qur’an thus converge in affirming the unity, dignity, and spiritual potential of every individual. Alhamdulillah.

Bismillah. Most people give the Qur’an a single chance. They open it once, close it, and never return. Some manage a second attempt, only to get lost in the verses. And then there are the few—the very few—who, on the third encounter, never let it go again. We’ve all heard the cliché: “The Qur’an is for those who fear death.”  Let’s be brutally honest: that’s a lie. The Qur’an is not a pillow to soften your fall into the grave. It is the opposite. It is a divine revelation for those who fear nothing. Because when you truly grasp its precision, its logic, its unshakable clarity, that’s when real fear sets in. Not the fear of dying—but the fear of living irresponsibly. The Qur’an doesn’t sedate you. It jolts you. It demands that you live sharper, cleaner, fairer—balanced with nature, with society, and with yourself. It’s not about spiritual daydreaming. It’s about discipline. About sacrifice. About reshaping yourself. But here’s the uncomfortable truth: how many of us are capable of that? How many can actually cut away the addictions, the destructive habits, the selfish impulses? Few. Very few. And for those who try, the challenge is brutal. Because the Qur’an doesn’t just tell you to believe . It tells you to act . To fast. To pray. To give, even when it hurts. To refuse dirty money. To stop exploiting others. To respect your parents. To honor life in all its forms. The Qur’an is not for the lazy. It’s for the ones willing to fight their own ego every single day. And yet, critics keep insisting: “The Qur’an is for those afraid of dying.” Really? No—it’s for those who dare to live knowing that death has consequences. The real danger is not fearing anything at all. Because that’s what allows people to kill, exploit, and destroy without guilt. That’s what closes their hearts so tightly that even the brightest light can’t break through. The Qur’an is not a lullaby. It is a challenge. A guide for humanity, yes—but only for those ready to receive it, first with the heart, then with the intellect. So ask yourself: are you ready for answers? Because Islam doesn’t whisper poetry into the void. It gives solutions. Clear, logical, piercing solutions to questions we spend lifetimes avoiding. The real question isn’t whether the Qur’an speaks to us. The real question is whether we’re brave enough to listen. Alhamdulillah.

In today’s world, almost every aspect of life exists online. News, education, entertainment, and social interaction are mediated through screens. While this offers unprecedented convenience and access, it also presents unprecedented challenges. The digital landscape has become a complex ecosystem of distraction, misinformation, and moral ambiguity. From pervasive fake news to instant gratification through entertainment, the online environment can distort priorities and values. Gambling, pornography, and superficial forms of engagement dominate, often under the guise of freedom or personal choice. Women are frequently reduced to consumable products in media narratives, while authentic knowledge and meaningful human connection become increasingly scarce. Even educational content is diluted, replaced by quick-fix courses and self-published material of uneven quality. The most insidious effect of this environment is psychological: distraction has become an addiction , and the illusion of choice masks a growing dependency on digital consumption. Intentional periods of digital detox, stepping back from online engagement, can provide significant cognitive, emotional, and spiritual benefits. For Muslims, the annual observance of Ramadan is a recognized period of fasting and reflection, designed to cleanse the body, mind, and soul. However, in an era of constant digital stimulation, a single month may not suffice. A supplementary week of conscious disconnection can serve as a strategic pause. By intentionally abstaining from digital consumption, individuals can regain clarity, reduce stress, and restore a sense of purpose and mindfulness. This approach aligns with traditional practices of spiritual reflection while addressing the unique challenges of the modern digital environment. Autumn naturally encourages introspection. As days shorten and the nights lengthen, a period of quiet can facilitate personal reflection and recalibration. This pause is particularly relevant in the context of overconsumption: abundant goods and indulgent marketing saturate society, even as many communities worldwide continue to face scarcity and deprivation. This contrast underscores the importance of cultivating awareness, humility, and ethical reflection. Conscious restraint, whether through fasting or disconnection, can foster empathy and a more grounded perspective on the world. More than fourteen centuries ago, the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ described signs of societal and moral decline, many of which resonate with contemporary observations: Narrated Anas ibn Mālik (may Allah be pleased with him): The Prophet ﷺ said: “Among the signs of the Last Hour are these: knowledge will disappear, ignorance will prevail, fornication will become widespread, alcohol will be consumed in abundance, and men will decrease while women will increase, until there is one man for every fifty women.”— Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī 80 / 7064 Other narrations highlight the erosion of social trust and moral integrity: “There will come years of deceit, when the liar is believed, the truthful is denied, the honest is accused of treachery, and the treacherous is trusted.”— Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī 7067 These historical accounts emphasize the enduring human challenges of ethical deterioration, widespread immorality, and societal imbalance. The parallels between these traditional warnings and contemporary society are striking. Misinformation spreads rapidly; ethical lapses are normalized; and individuals often struggle to find meaning amidst constant distraction. In such an environment, intentional periods of disconnection, reflection, and restraint are not merely beneficial: they are essential for maintaining mental, emotional, and spiritual well-being.   Islam: The Ultimate Antidote to Modern Corruption Islam doesn’t just offer guidance, but it prevents the chaos that defines today’s world. Where distraction, immorality, and deceit dominate, Islam provides clear boundaries and practical tools to safeguard both the mind and the soul. Fasting, prayer, and reflection are more than rituals: they are weapons against overconsumption, digital addiction, and moral decay . Honesty, modesty, and accountability are not optional ideals; they are armor against a society that glorifies lies, lust, and greed. In a world where pleasure is marketed, truth is optional, and virtue is mocked, Islam equips individuals to resist the flood of corruption . It restores clarity in thought, integrity in action, and purpose in life. Those who follow its guidance do more than survive: they thrive ethically, spiritually, and mentally, while the world around them sinks further into chaos. While society drifts toward distraction, immorality, and despair, Islam is the framework that shields, strengthens, and elevates.

Some journeys don’t start with a step. They start with surrender. Some places cannot be reached by the body, but only by the soul. We chase God through rituals, through discipline, through movement. We stretch and bend, hoping the body will open the door the heart cannot. And the more we reach, the further He seems. Silence becomes a competition. Sacred spaces turn into arenas. And still, God can feel absent. Devotion is not comfort. It is collapse. Remembering, listening, singing, serving, loving, praying, humbling, surrendering: these are not actions. They are fractures of the self, breaking the illusions that keep the soul blind. We wander through faiths like rivers searching for the sea, only to find the shore dry, barren, empty. History, land, water, and sky whisper of something greater, yet the heart may still be starving. And then, in a single moment, the veil rips: a sky that pierces, a silence so vast it drowns all other voices, a presence so absolute that nothing else exists. From childhood, the soul remembers. Mosques, deserts, prophets, the raw light of the Holy Land: these marks stay, waiting. Waiting for the heart to awaken. Sujood, prostration, is not prayer. It is collapse. The forehead hits the earth. The soul lays bare. The body whispers: “Not I, but You.”  In that surrender, the human ends, and the divine begins. Becoming Muslim is not a choice. It is reckoning. A collision. A chain of missteps, trials, and loss, each fracture breaking the heart in ways the mind cannot imagine: until it finally breaks open. True encounters with Allah are slow, often painful, unavoidable. The soul must burn to see the flame. In surrender, the soul learns what the heart has always longed for: that nothing, no fear, no hunger, no injustice, no loss, is ever outside His reach. That even in the blackest void, even in the deepest despair, Allah is there. Always. "And We will surely test you with something of fear and hunger and loss… but give good tidings to the patient."  (Quran 2:155) Faith is not comfort. Faith is collapse. Faith is the moment illusions die, and only truth remains. And in that truth, the soul finally finds peace: raw, unshakable, eternal. Islam changes everything. Ethics are not ideas — they are flesh and blood. Lies become unbearable. Indifference feels wrong. Privilege weighs heavily. You see suffering where before you looked away. Reality stands naked, and justice belongs only to God. Belief requires no ritual, no baptism, no circumcision. Islam is conscious surrender, peace, and unwavering values. It doesn’t matter who you are, where you come from, the color of your skin, or your wealth. Everything happens only between you and Allah — no intermediaries, no barriers. The more you prostrate, the more you feel Him. The more you surrender, the more you realize you were never alone. Wherever you are, wherever you go, wherever you have been — God is with you. Nothing else terrifies you: not scarcity, not uncertainty. You know that if you have faith, a way will appear, just to the edge of your strength. And if it does not, you accept it with peace. “Allah does not burden any soul beyond what it can bear.”(Qur’an, 2:286) The final power belongs to no man. Only to God. And in that knowledge, the heart finally finds peace. Surat Al-Hadid [verse 4] "It is He who created the heavens and earth in six days and then established Himself above the Throne. He knows what penetrates into the earth and what emerges from it and what descends from the heaven and what ascends therein; and He is with you wherever you are"

The five keys of the Unseen For the Persians, the word garden  meant Paradise : a place of beauty, harmony, and peace where everything exists in perfect correspondence. And it’s precisely this correspondence  that I’d like to reflect on. The garden is a gentle workshop of creation, one that speaks in the language of nature rather than the noise of humankind. Flowers reveal their secrets only to those who observe with patience. They trust that only a few will truly understand. And that’s the test: to learn how to listen to what nature is trying to tell us. The garden is not just a paradise that inspires; it’s a paradise that speaks . In the 1980s, correspondence meant pen and paper. Children would find addresses in parish magazines and write to pen pals around the world. Friendships blossomed through ink and envelopes, and waiting for a reply became part of the joy. Life moved more slowly then, but that slowness gave weight to every word. Today, communication happens in seconds. We text, post, scroll, and move on. We no longer focus on what  we say, but how quickly  we can say it. Yet nature has its own rhythm. Truth has its own pace. And truth only arrives when knowledge walks beside it. In nature’s world, what matters isn’t how beautifully you speak, it’s what you say, and why. Life should be a slow, deep journey. Instead, it has become a race, fast and shallow. Flowers have a different way of speaking. Their communication is gentle, silent, and fragrant. They don’t use words, but they leave traces in the air: waves of perfume that fade softly into the wind. Sometimes, words aren’t necessary at all. What remains is not what was said, but what was felt.   The Art of Communication in Islam In Islamic tradition, communication is a sacred act built on three principles: honesty (as-sidq) , justice (al-‘adalah) , and moderation (wasatiyyah) . The Qur’an offers timeless guidance on dialogue, reminding us that how we communicate reflects who we are. “Call to the way of your Lord with wisdom and good exhortation, and argue with them in the best manner.”(Al-Nahl, 16:125) True dialogue, the Qur’an teaches, must be wise, respectful, and compassionate. “We did not send any messenger except in the language of his people, so that he might make things clear to them.”(Ibrahim, 14:4) Communication isn’t just about speaking: it’s about connecting hearts. It requires humility, gentleness, and the awareness that every word can heal or harm. “And tell My servants to say that which is best. Indeed, Satan sows discord among them.”(Al-Isra’, 17:53) Kind words protect peace. Silence, sometimes, preserves it. Not everyone speaks through language. Some express themselves through art, music, or silence. To communicate well, we must first understand who  we’re speaking to and choose the language that truly reaches them. Nature models this perfectly. The waves, the trees, the sunrise, all are forms of divine communication. God is constantly speaking to us through creation, but our minds are often too full of digital noise to notice. “And He is with you wherever you are. And Allah sees all that you do.”(Qur’an 57:4) Communication is meant to build bridges, to bring hearts closer together. But in our fast-paced, hyperconnected world, it often does the opposite, fragmenting attention, breeding impatience. Maybe that’s why the art of slow correspondence deserves a comeback. Writing by hand. Waiting for a reply. Rediscovering patience, curiosity, gratitude. Every letter carried a touch of mystery, something left unsaid. And that absence was the most precious part, because it left us wondering: How did the message end? But perhaps we aren’t meant to know. Some answers belong only to God. The Prophet ﷺ said: “There are five keys of the Unseen which no one knows except Allah: what will happen tomorrow, what is in the wombs, when it will rain, where one will die, and when the Hour will come.” (Al-Bukhari) And so, we return to the garden, where silence speaks, fragrance becomes language,and every petal whispers a timeless truth: God alone knows.

Bismillah. There is a voice inside you: pure, natural, uncorrupted. In Islam, we call it fitrah , the inner compass that knows the truth even before words can explain it. Your journey will never look like anyone else’s. It’s not meant to. You were created with your own timing, your own rhythm, your own path. Sometimes, people will say: “Don’t do that.”“That’s not the right way.”“You’re making a mistake.” But what they don’t see is that you are standing at a point they haven’t reached. What feels strange or radical to them might be the truth you were created to walk toward. When your fitrah speaks, listen. Even if it’s quiet. Even if no one else hears it yet. The soul recognizes its Creator. Sometimes, before the mind does. Staying True to Yourself — In Islam and Beyond In a world full of noise, opinions, and pressures, staying true to yourself is both a challenge and a profound act of courage. Islam teaches us that each person is created with a unique fitrah — an innate, natural disposition toward truth, goodness, and God. Staying true to yourself means honoring this fitrah, listening to the inner voice Allah placed within you, and living a life that reflects your authentic nature and values. The soul drifts toward peace as a river finds its way to the sea. In stillness, it remembers: not something new, but something eternal. Think about the way we are born — each of us comes into this world with an innate sense of truth and purpose, a natural orientation toward what is right. The Qur’an calls this fitrah , our original, unaltered disposition. In Surah Ar-Rum (30:30) , Allah says: “So direct your face toward the religion, inclining to truth, the fitrah of Allah upon which He has created all people. No alteration should there be in the creation of Allah. That is the true religion, yet most people do not know.” This isn’t just an abstract idea; it’s a reminder that deep down, every human carries a spark of guidance and clarity. No matter what distractions or doubts life throws at us, returning to that natural inclination, to truth and honesty with ourselves, is the way to align with the life we were meant to live. If we listen to that inner guidance, we reconnect with the purity and purpose embedded in our very creation. Modern science beautifully echoes what Islam has always taught about fitrah . From birth, humans show an innate sense of right and wrong, empathy, and social connection, what the Qur’an describes as the natural disposition Allah placed within every soul. Psychology and neuroscience reveal that our brains are hardwired to recognize truth, fairness, and cooperation, reflecting the divine design. In this way, Islam’s teaching about fitrah aligns with what science uncovers: that we are created with an intrinsic guidance toward goodness and purpose. Surah Al-Hujurat (49:13) “O mankind, indeed We have created you from male and female and made you peoples and tribes that you may know one another. Indeed, the most noble of you in the sight of Allah is the most righteous of you. Indeed, Allah is Knowing and Acquainted.” This verse emphasizes that all humans originate from the same creation and that distinctions like tribe or ethnicity are for recognition, not superiority. This Friday, reflect on this surah and realize that humanity is not just connected: we are one. The Qur’an declares this truth boldly, leaving no room for excuses or distortions. It challenges us to confront the misinterpretations that keep people divided, unsettled, and lost, and to awaken to the reality that unity is our original, divinely ordained state. Alhamdulillah.

Bismillah. Water is the silent witness to all life on Earth. It flows through rivers and veins alike, rising as mist, falling as rain, and returning to the ocean in an endless cycle of renewal. Throughout history, water has been more than a physical element: it has been a mirror of life’s essence, a symbol of purity, emotion, and transformation. Within this profound natural rhythm, Dr. Masaru Emoto’s work invites us to look deeper, to see water not just as substance, but as spirit capable of responding to the vibrations of human thought and feeling. Dr. Emoto proposed that consciousness itself might leave an imprint on water . In his experiments, droplets of water were exposed to words, prayers, and emotions before being frozen and examined under a microscope. The resulting ice crystals seemed to reflect the nature of the energy they had received: words of love, gratitude, and compassion created delicate, symmetrical patterns resembling snowflakes, while anger, fear, and resentment produced fractured, chaotic forms. Through this lens, water became a recorder of emotion—a living canvas shaped by the invisible currents of intention. In nature, water moves with grace and resilience, adapting to every form it encounters. It teaches harmony, stillness, and strength. If Emoto’s hypothesis holds even a fragment of truth, then perhaps every river, raindrop, and tear carries within it the memory of the world’s emotional landscape. Gratitude , in this sense, becomes more than a feeling; it becomes an act of creation, one that shapes not only the inner self but the very fabric of the environment that sustains us. Though his studies remain debated within the scientific community, Dr. Emoto’s work continues to resonate on a symbolic and spiritual level. It reminds us that water, the source of all life, may also be a reflection of life itself: responding, transforming, and flowing in tune with the energy of our hearts and minds. Muslims say “Bismillah”  (“In the name of Allah, the Most Merciful, the Most Compassionate”) before drinking to begin the act with awareness of God and to seek His blessings. It is a way of acknowledging that even the simplest sustenance, like water, is a gift from Allah/God, transforming an ordinary act into an expression of gratitude, much like the crystalline patterns observed in water by scientists when a positive word is spoken, reflecting harmony and intention. Water is regarded as a blessing and a necessity for life in Islam. The Quran frequently mentions the significance of water, emphasizing that it is a source of life. Allah says in the Quran: “And We made from water every living thing. Then will they not believe?”  (Surah Al-Anbiya 21:30) “We have sent down blessed water from the sky and made grow thereby gardens and grain for harvest”  (Surah Qaf 50:9). "And He it is Who created man from water, and made for him kindred by blood and kindred by marriage. And your Lord is All-Powerful." (Surah Al-Furqan 25:54) “Indeed, We created man from a sperm-drop mixture (nutfah amshaj/ Literally: “a small drop” or “tiny quantity of fluid”), in order to test him; and We made him hearing and seeing.” (Surah Al-Insan 76:2) Beyond its physical necessity, water embodies purification and spiritual renewal, guiding believers toward mindfulness and gratitude. In every drop, there is life, sustenance, and a quiet call to recognize the Creator’s wisdom in the simplest of blessings. Zamzam Water: Faith and Science Among the many blessings of water in Islam, Zamzam occupies a unique place. Flowing from the well near the Kaaba, its origin is tied to the story of Hajar and her son Isma’il, when Allah miraculously provided for them in the desert. For Muslims, drinking Zamzam is not just physical nourishment: it is an act of faith, a means of seeking blessings, and a reminder of divine mercy. Pilgrims during Hajj and Umrah drink it with supplication, believing in its spiritual potency and the fulfillment of prayers. From a scientific perspective, Zamzam water is remarkable for its high mineral content and purity , which gives it a distinctive taste and supports hydration and health. Its composition has been studied extensively, revealing levels of calcium, magnesium, and other beneficial elements. In this way, Zamzam water bridges the spiritual and the physical, showing how divine providence can align with natural order. Each sip becomes a reminder that faith and science can meet, nourishing both body and soul. Saying Bismillah  before drinking and Alhamdulillah  afterward turns an ordinary act into one of gratitude and blessing. This simple practice follows the Sunnah, strengthens faith, and reminds us to remember Allah in everyday life. Bismillah in Nora`s Garden Ever since I began whispering “Bismillah” each time I plant a flower, I’ve witnessed wonders. Soon, a rose will sprout, promising to bloom taller and more vibrant than ever… even as November winds blow. It feels as though that single word carries a quiet magic, awakening life in ways that defy expectation. A simple act, spoken with devotion, has the power to stir nature itself, leaving you in awe of the unseen forces that surround us... Alhamdulillah.

Your Brain Is a Hidden Garden—And Forgetting Is Its Magic Imagine your mind as a vast garden: every memory, idea, and sensation is a seed. Forgetting isn’t loss, it’s the gardener, clearing space so the most vital thoughts can grow. Neuroscience shows this pruning keeps the brain flexible and resilient, while the Qur’an hints at a deeper layer, a central register where nothing truly disappears. In this hidden garden, every moment of your life is preserved, ready to bloom when the time is right. Forgetting helps us live better, neuroscientists say. In reality, oblivion is a survival strategy: the brain forgets to protect us, to help us move forward. In a sense, today we are all “surviving”, flooded with information, images, and sounds that saturate our minds until it seems to stop. Imagine a suitcase already full, which you insist on overpacking. Eventually, nothing else fits. That’s how our mind works. Forgetting is an active process that frees up space, allowing the brain to select what truly matters. The great German psychologist Hermann Ebbinghaus discovered this in the 19th century: memory doesn’t fade randomly but follows a predictable rhythm. We forget about half of what we learn within the first hour, and the loss continues more slowly thereafter. Our capacity to retain information is therefore limited. So, how can we train the memory? In the Qur’an, I found a verse that strikes me deeply: " And We have certainly made the Qur’an easy to remember. So is there anyone who will be mindful?" (Surah Al-Qamar, 54:17) But if we forget so easily, why does Allah say that every movement we make is recorded in a single register? Interpretations of the Qur’an are infinite, yet this theme fascinates me. It’s as if we live within a drawing that emerges on paper, where only the outline appears, while the essence remains on the canvas. Science confirms that forgetting helps us survive, but it doesn’t fully explain where the rest goes: all that we record and then “lose.” Neuroscience tells us that every memory arises from an encounter with the world: a glance, a voice, a smell, a sensation. At that moment, if the brain pays attention, it encodes the experience, transforming scattered stimuli into neural traces. And then—is it lost? No. There is a central register. We are only the outline, the smear, the drawing that emerges on the canvas. When I paint, I often make a mess. But in the end, only what is meant to appear remains. The colors used earlier do not disappear, but they persist in the depth of the painting, even if unseen. This is why, when people die, many report seeing all the moments of their life flash by like a film, like a collection of slides from birth to death. This aligns perfectly with the verse: "And everything they did is in written records." (Surah Al-Qamar, 54:52) Plato’s thought also resonates with Qur’anic texts. He said the soul existed before entering the human body and contemplated the Ideas, eternal and perfect truths of the intelligible world. When the soul incarnates, it forgets these truths. But it does not lose them entirely; they remain as latent memories, which can be “reactivated” through reflection, philosophy, and experience. For Plato, then, knowing means remembering what the soul already knew. Memory is thus not just a psychological process but a metaphysical one: a bridge between the sensible world and the world of Ideas. Interestingly, this idea of “latent knowledge” also resonates in modern psychology and neuroscience. Today, we speak of implicit memory—traces of experiences that remain in the brain even without conscious awareness. In contemporary terms, it is as if Plato intuited that not everything we forget is lost—a vision that echoes even the Qur’anic concept of a universal register or the idea of quantum memory in matter. There is undoubtedly a single Creator, the engine of everything that happens inside and outside us. Otherwise, why would Allah provide guidance to exercise our memory and keep our minds alive? Studies show that reading and memorizing the Qur’an activates brain areas related to memory, language, and higher cognitive functions. Qur’anic recitation nourishes the soul while training the brain to remember, focus, and stay alert. 100 Millions of people are listening Qur`an to sleep. Neuroscientific research shows that Qur’anic recitation, especially with tarteel (slow, measured rhythm), induces calm brain states similar to meditation. EEG recordings show increased alpha and theta waves, associated with relaxation, focus, and improved memory. Listening to the Qur’an has also been linked to reduced cortisol levels, the stress hormone, which benefits emotional and physiological health: lower anxiety, better sleep, and improved emotional stability. During recitation, breathing slows and heart rate regularizes, signs of parasympathetic nervous system activation and higher heart rate variability (HRV)—an indicator of psychological resilience. Cognitively, regular reciters show improvements in working memory, attention, and verbal fluency. Studies on Qur’anic learning suggest that the rhythmic and melodic structure of verses stimulates brain areas linked to auditory and linguistic memory. In short, Qur’anic recitation not only promotes spiritual well-being but also serves as a natural neurocognitive workout, enhancing emotional balance and brain function.   ·  Al-Galal, S. A., & Alshaikhli, I. F. (2017). Analyzing brainwaves while listening to Quranic recitation compared with listening to music based on EEG signals. International Journal on Perceptive and Cognitive Computing ·  Muchtar Hanafi, A. R., Wiyono, N., Mirawati, D. K., & colleghi. (2022). The effect of listening to Holy Quran recitation on stress among healthy adults: a non-blinded randomized controlled trial. Universa Medicina. ·  The effect of listening to Holy Quran recitation on inflammatory markers in hemodialysis patients in Iran: a randomized clinical trial. (2024). [Journal details]. . Perchè dimentichiamo. Una scienza dell`Oblio, Sergio Della Sala . Menone e Fedone, Platone

A mother’s hands hold a quiet kind of magic: the power to nurture, to heal October is a generous month: chestnuts fall from the trees, bright orange persimmons glow in the gardens, mandarins perfume the air, and walnuts scatter beneath our feet. Yet many still prefer to buy imported fruit, wrapped in plastic, coming from who knows where. Nora’s Garden  was created as a gentle reminder that true abundance doesn’t come from supermarkets but from the earth itself — from the trees, the soil, and the divine gifts that surround us every day. Choosing self-sufficiency isn’t only an ecological or economic decision; it’s also an act of freedom. Every fruit picked with your own hands is a quiet rebellion against a system built on profit rather than on quality or respect for life. Our grandparents used to walk into the forest and return with baskets full of chestnuts, mushrooms, berries, and wild fruits. Today, we’ve become trapped in a system that makes us run endlessly inside a wheel that eventually crushes us. But we can change that — starting right in our gardens, or even on our balconies. This year, my garden was a small paradise: sweet figs, tender spinach, roses of every color, and plenty of fragrant parsley. Alhamdulillah. Now that autumn has arrived, it’s time to sow green leafy vegetables such as spinach, lettuce, arugula, and radicchio. These plants love cool weather and thrive in lower temperatures. You can also grow aromatic herbs like basil, coriander, and parsley to flavor your meals throughout the year. And for the colder months, plant cabbages — cauliflower, broccoli, or savoy, hardy and nourishing crops perfect for winter. Simple, Halal, Low-Cost Nature is an endless pantry: just need to learn how to harvest from it. Here are a few ideas for healthy, halal, and budget-friendly dishes inspired by the rhythm of the seasons: Nettle soup : gather young leaves during a countryside walk. Wild arugula salad with eggs : ask a local farmer for fresh eggs, just like in the old days. Pumpkin soup : maybe made with a pumpkin a farmer couldn’t sell. Figs and walnuts dessert: autumn gifts from the trees. Unleavened bread : made with only water, flour, salt, and olive oil. Or try a simple homemade meal: Spinach with chicken (from your garden or a trusted farmer)Plain rice. Dessert: persimmons with dark chocolate: a zero-cost treat if you look around. And for a cozy winter dinner: Carrot soup. Swiss chard with potatoes and halal cheese (or make your own cheese). Roasted chestnuts with natural yogurt – you can even make the yogurt yourself. The Spiritual Value of Food and the Role of the Mother A garden isn’t just a place — it’s a lesson. It teaches patience, gratitude, and care. To live halal  means to live consciously, in balance, aware of the divine origin of the food we eat. Yet today, too many shopping carts are filled with plastic, fizzy drinks, and processed foods. Nora’s Garden   is a constant reminder that we can live differently . But to grow even the smallest garden, we must first cultivate something within ourselves. A wild garden still needs tenderness and attention. The Qur’an  teaches us that everything comes from God, not from an industry that manufactures toxic food. And within this reflection, the role of the mother  is sacred: she gives life, nurtures it, and shapes the world through her care. “First the mother, then the mother, and then the mother. Then the father.”(Hadith of Prophet Muhammad ) This hadith reminds us of the mother’s honored position: the one who nourishes, educates, and transforms. Yet too many Muslim mothers in Europe have stopped cooking their beautiful halal recipes, tempted by the illusion of convenience offered by ready-made meals. But a mother is like the earth: she receives, transforms, and returns goodness — even when there isn’t much water. In Islamic tradition, her value is immeasurable and irreplaceable. My invitation is simple yet profound: rediscover yourself through the earth . In a world that often undervalues mothers, remember how essential you are. Take a walk, visit a farmer, pick what nature offers. Read, learn, and most of all, cook with love : because every meal you prepare with your own hands nourishes not only your children but also your soul and your family’s wellbeing. Feeding the body matters, but feeding the spirit matters even more. And the garden, the kitchen, and simplicity are the first steps toward living in harmony with God, with nature, and with ourselves. Nora’s Garden  is more than a garden: it’s a reminder to return to the essentials, to live with gratitude, and to choose a life that smells of earth, bread, and love.   Qur’an 2:233 (Al-Baqarah) "Mothers shall breastfeed their children for two whole years, for those who wish to complete the term of nursing. The father must provide for them (the mothers) and clothe them in a fair manner. No soul shall be burdened beyond its capacity. A mother should not be made to suffer because of her child, nor should a father because of his child. The same duty (of provision) is incumbent upon the father’s heir. But if, by mutual consent and consultation, they both decide to wean (the child), there is no blame on them. And if you decide to have your children nursed by someone else, there is no blame on you, provided you pay what you agreed upon in a fair manner. And be mindful of Allah, and know that Allah is All-Seeing of what you do." Allah, in His infinite wisdom, has given mothers a gentle and honorable choice — to nurse their children for two full years if they wish, while ensuring they are supported and not burdened beyond their capacity. This verse beautifully balances compassion, fairness, and mutual respect between parents. It reminds us that every decision about a child should be made with love, consultation, and mindfulness of Allah. Therefore, while Allah has given flexibility, we should always strive to do our best — seeking what is most beneficial for the child, the mother, and the family, and doing so with sincerity and faith in Allah’s guidance. Important: Across the world, in nearly every culture and religion, the figure of the mother holds a central place. She represents nurturing, protection, guidance, and the very source of life. In Aboriginal traditions, Mother Earth is seen as a life-giving force that sustains all living beings, reminding us of our responsibility to care for the natural world. In the Vedas, goddesses like Aditi and Prithvi embody both cosmic and earthly motherhood, highlighting the divine role of creation and nurturing in the universe. In the Torah, mothers are the heart of the family—they guide, nurture, and preserve faith, shaping not only their children but the generations that follow. In Shintoism, figures such as Izanami, along with the maternal aspects of nature, symbolize fertility, creation, and protection, emphasizing the sacredness of life itself. The Qur’an affirms and elevates this reverence for mothers. Surah Al-Ahqaf (46:15) highlights the immense sacrifices of mothers and links gratitude to them with devotion to Allah. Surah Al-Baqarah (2:233) underscores a mother’s rights, her choices, and the protection she deserves. In Islam, honoring and caring for one’s mother is not only a moral duty—it is a path to spiritual reward. Across traditions, one truth stands clear: mothers are the pillars of life and the bridge between humanity and the divine.