Quran & Nature

Episode 1 In Ugarit, time spoke through clay. Not in palaces, not in statues, but in tablets—objects that still carry a sense of singularity today, like bars of Aleppo soap. Every word was a gesture, carefully incised, meant to outlast the hand that carved it. Today our words rush by, fleeting and weightless, dissolving into notifications and screens, leaving behind a different kind of trace—one that feels erasable. The letters of Ugarit remind us that communication is not on

"Did We not open your heart for you and remove from you the burden that weighed so heavily upon your back? Truly, with hardship comes ease. Truly, with hardship comes ease. So when you are free, continue to strive, and turn your longing toward your Lord.” Surah Ash-Sharh (94:1–8) The world is a place filled with injustice, and when we are subjected to it, it is not only the heart that suffers: our entire sense of life, trust, and the very meaning of what we experience begins

“Angels are older than all religions – and they continue to reach even those humans who no longer wish to know about religion.”  With these words by Claus Westermann, we can approach the mystery of angels, present in countless forms across nearly every human culture. The invisible cherubim, called Kettu by the Sumerians, endure through time and reach us still. In Christianity, they were considered the “engines of intelligence,” beings of light, adorned with symbolic wings tha

Autistic minds are often misunderstood as rigid, yet they perceive the world in multiple dimensions. They experience reality in layers, noticing connections that might escape others, seeing not only what is visible but also what lies beneath. Their thinking flows through multiple channels at once, integrating thoughts, emotions, and observations into a rich, expansive awareness. The Qur’an provides guidance that resonates with this perspective, emphasizing human uniqueness an

It did not seem special, at least at first glance. It lay on the bed of a river, where the water ran fast and time was never in a hurry. It had broken off from a larger rock, shattered by frost and the weight of the mountain. That gray stone had learned how to endure: every day the water struck it, pushed it, rolled it along. And over time, through adaptation, it became smooth. In the Qur’an, stones and rocks appear repeatedly—not as useless objects, but as powerful symbols c

We live in a culture deeply shaped by the logic of the reset: technological, relational, professional, and even identity-based resets. Everything appears reversible, upgradable, erasable. This mindset, born in the digital realm, has become a lens through which we interpret existence itself. Yet a crucial question remains unanswered: is it really possible to start over without consequences? This habit does not stop at everyday life; it is projected even onto death. The idea of

“We will show them Our signs on the horizons and within themselves until it becomes clear to them that it is the Truth.” Qur’an 41:53 Living in two worlds can frighten those who measure reality only through the senses. For those who truly do so, however, it is not madness: it is the ability to move between what we see and what exists beyond it, in the unseen worlds spoken of in the Qur’an. The real challenge is not crossing these dimensions, but helping others understand that

When one year ends and another is about to begin, we return to talking about time. We speak of it as if it were an absolute force, an invisible law governing every step, every choice, every breath. Yet the Qur’an insists: time is not the ultimate reality, but a tool or measure granted to humans to orient themselves on Earth, not to define what truly is. Reality is something else, and it is who we are when we no longer feel the body. The moment God takes the soul (ruh) through

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 s

Autumn is here again. And in every leaf that falls softly to the ground, there’s a story that ends, a reminder that everything on this earth has an expiration date. The falling leaf is us. It’s humanity. But unlike the leaf, we’ve forgotten that we, too, will one day fall. We rush through life as if it were infinite. We throw away the water and drink the glass.We peel an orange and eat the rind. We pick flowers and never look at them. We waste beauty, meaning, and time, and w

Episode III In Ugarit, among the layers of clay tablets, there were not only numbers and lists, but formulas and small prayers, repeated again and again, invoking protection and gratitude. They were not epic narratives, but measured words, carefully set down, as though their power lay in consistency rather than eloquence. Repetition is not always monotony; it can be discipline and memory. It weaves invisible threads that link one gesture to the next, one thought to another. S

Biology, faith, and social disintegration in the contemporary myth of love We have been promised that romantic love would be freedom and salvation. Empirical reality suggests otherwise: fragile bonds, disintegrating families, structural loneliness. This essay interrogates that promise and proposes a theological and anthropological reading in which religious truth, though disillusioning, appears more consistent with human nature. Human beings undergo a continuous process of re

Every time I talk about my life in India, I’m told I should write a book. Today I will tell just a breath of one year in the Subcontinent, and of what shaped the twenty years that followed. I will not speak of the extreme contrasts that stretch the country, nor of its lacerating poverty, but of a place that profoundly split me: Cape Comorin. It is there that three seas clash, where you are nothing but yourself, with your fleeting and insignificant convictions, emptying out li

In Latakia, there was a bar tucked away in a fragile corner of the world, and I saw it with eyes that still tremble at the memory. There, the sea lowers its voice: the waves, tired of wrestling with the rocks, become gentle caresses, brushing against you as if they have known you forever. The beach lay untouched, hidden from the careless eyes of tourists, and the mornings arrived with a soft breeze; the sun did not burn, but slid across the skin like a promise kept. The bar w

Islamic tradition strongly recalls the principle of balance: never go too far to the right nor too far to the left. The Qur’an invites human beings to follow the ṣirāṭ al-mustaqīm , the straight path, which coincides neither with the darkness of excess nor with the glare of ostentatious light, but with a posture of humility, awareness, and moderation. Balance is not neutrality, but constant discernment. In the contemporary context, Islam sometimes appears transformed into a s

Walking barefoot helps us ground ourselves, feel our undeniable connection to the earth, and recognize our own presence. Even when it’s cold, even when temperatures are low. On one hand, it’s true that we need to protect our bodies by covering them. But when we start to confine the soul, we risk drifting away from our essence—an essence that longs to feel free, even through the soles of our shoes, allowing information to travel directly to the brain. The feet are incredibly p

Episode II In Ugarit, not everything was poetry. In fact, many tablets did not speak of gentle myths or solemn prayers. They were lists—names, quantities, exchanges. Grain, oil, animals, offerings. Ordinary life pressed into clay. And it is precisely this that makes them extraordinarily alive. Those signs were not carved to be remembered, but to organize the present. Yet thousands of years later, it is that very modest present that has crossed time, reminding us that history

Perception, illusion, and knowledge between science and inner experience I have transformed light into thought. Every day the sun dazzles me, new words are born. Today is one of those days when the sun’s rays flood the lake, making the waves seem metaphysical. Everything, to me, is metaphysical: the clouds scattered like forgotten sheep in the sky, the stains that the clouds’ shadows draw across the mountains. When a mind is metaphysical, everything that is not becomes boring

Silence may sound like an ancient concept, but in this time more than ever, it has returned as a necessity. When you are forced to constantly explain yourself, to justify your existence, to ask for permission to be what you already are, something subtle begins to happen: your roots weaken. Not because they are fragile, but because they are being exposed for too long, searching for approval instead of nourishment. The Strength of Stillness Turn your head. Step aside. A tree do

Faith is a silent whisper:  it does not knock at your door, but slips into your home like a white feather gently falling, coming to rest at your feet. It does not compete with noise, nor does it raise its voice to be heard. On the contrary, it fears a world that is too loud, and for this reason it falls from the sky unseen, while you are asleep. Whatever name you choose to give it—faith, trust, inner awareness, connection with the Creator—it already lives quietly within you,

The chip that will allow us to fly… many call it utopia. But I do not believe it. Humanity has always had the power to invent, to surpass itself, and today, as we prepare to cross new boundaries, fear is the only thing we do not need. Fear of what? Of a chip in place of the brain? Of flying? Fear comes from imagining a physical flight, but the true journey is already within us. Those who have learned to project their ideas into the world, to communicate beyond the body, know

At night, the brain remains silently awake: science calls it the “ideal state,” while the Quran calls it Tahajjud . Often, we focus on what we want to push away: fears, anxieties, and negative thoughts. In Islam however, and in life in general, true strength does not lie in chasing away evil, but in seeking the good. During the night, when everything is quiet and the world sleeps, the heart is more open and the spirit more receptive. It is the perfect moment to invite light,