You are not reading this by accident. No. The eye ball turned itself because the soul in you began to whisper. Not out of excitement, but concern. Not to be loud, but to be true. It is not noise that awakens you now, but the silence between the interludes. The ache that follows the applause. The knowing that many are moving, but few are arriving.
This is not a message for the many. It is a mirror for the few. The critical few who have grown tired of echoing every chant and are beginning to ask: _Where is this caravan truly headed?_
If your feet are bleeding from the road, and your heart is heavy from the burden of clarity, then this is your place. Sit. Rest. Not to give up, but to remember.
Let us begin not with strategy, but with the truth.
“By Time!” says the Almighty.
“Surely, mankind is in loss … except…”
Aha! That “except” is the sanctuary. The ark. The exit from loss. Four signs are engraved upon its gate: belief, righteousness, truth, and patience. Miss one, and the soul is in loss, no matter the banners, no matter the crowds. Wear all four like garments woven from light, and even if you stand alone at Karbala, you are not alone. You are a lone with the Alone.
Belief. Not belief in an optical illusion of vanity. But belief that trembles before God and smiles at challenges. A belief that does not beg for validation, that walks away from applause if it costs sincerity. This is not belief in pomposity, but in Being. A knowing that when all else fails, there is still One who remains. That is belief.
Righteous action. But not all actions are righteous. There is motion that mimics meaning, and there is meaning that means meanness. You post. You speak. You organise. But has your heart remained awake? The Prophet did not raise armies before raising souls. The righteous act begins within, long before it manifests without. Without that, the action may be loud, but it is lost.
Then truth. Oh, truth. The sword without a sheath. The fire that burns even the hands that carry it. Everyone claims it, but few submit to it. Truth that spares no friend, flatters no ally, serves no group. Truth that makes you say “no” even when a simple nod would earn you favour. Truth that sometimes feels like exile. Yet, still you carry it, not because it is easy, but because it is you.
Then patience. Not waiting but enduring. The kind of sabr that held Zaynab steady while her world bled. The kind that made Imam Husayn offer his everything, not in bitterness, but in divine submission. Patience that makes you walk when the world sprints, speak when the world screams, weep when the world laughs. Sabr that is dignity. Not delay. That kind of patience is not passivity. It is divine alignment.
O you who call yourself activist: Ask yourself not “what am I doing?” but “who am I becoming?”
Do not confuse busyness for business. In the fields of false urgency, busyness is the new idol. You are tempted to be everywhere, do everything, say something. Even when the heart is silent. But God does not record metrics. He records sincerity.
When every circle calls itself the touch bearer of movement, how will you find warmth? When every hand waves the banner of the truth, how will you find direction?
Step back. Not to run, but to return. To the Source. The First Principle. The real Qibla.
Karbala was not about numbers. It was not a war. It was a witness. Seventy-two stood while seventy thousand watched. And still, it is the seventy-two whose names have not faded. Because they did not fight for optics. They stood for the truth. Imam Husayn did not fight for vanity. He refused to make peace with falsehood. That refusal, quiet, clear, and “costly”, is why Karbala still burns in every soul that seeks the truth.
So do not be afraid to walk dawdling. The blast is not holy. The soul who walks steadily with God echoes longer than the one who runs in every direction.
If the activism begins to feel like a marketplace, where alliances are traded and sincerity is discounted, recoil. Not from duty, but from dilution.
Your solitude is not your shame. It is your sanctuary.
If your maturity and dicernment makes others nervous, so be it. Sometimes, the greatest threat to falsehood is not confrontation but clarity.
The world does not need more slogans. It needs more sincerity. It does not need more voices. It needs more vision. You are not here to perform. You are here to preserve. Not to outshine, but to illuminate.
Do not fear being called icy, aloof, or disobliging. So was every prophet who said “no” when the people wanted a “yes.”
You do not owe your soul to popularity. You owe it to the One who breathed it into you.
And if any associate ask you to bend your principles in the name of convenience, smile with sorrow and whisper: “I worship not uniformity. I follow the Straight Path called upon by Muttaqi leader.”
If he says: “But “everyone” is doing it,” say: “I am not everyone. I am answerable to the One.”
Be clear. Without cruelty. Be firm. Without arrogance. You are not here to dislodge anyone. You are here to protect the sacred. The line between truth and compromise. Between light and glitter. Between Sirat al-Mustaqeem and every other path that dresses itself in good intentions.
When fatigue knocks, do not assume failure. It is only the soul asking to realign. Step back, not to quit, but to clean the mirror. For in that mirror, you will see that your true audience is not the crowd. It is the One who never stopped watching. The One who does not forget a single tear, a single moment of restraint, a single whisper of the truth.
You were not made to echo. You were made to illuminate.
You were not fashioned for flattery. You were created for fidelity.
You are not a leaf tossed by the wind. You are a root holding the earth.
You are not a slogan. You are a secret.
So, protect the seed of your intention. Water it not with applause, but with sincerity. Let it grow slowly and deeply. In the unseen. For what grows in secret blooms in eternity.
And when bewilderment comes, as it surely will, when every group insists, every friend pressures, and every demand sounds urgent, ask one question: Does this pull me toward Allah, or away from Him?
That question is enough.
If your answer aligns with Him, even if no one walks beside you, the entire cosmos will make room for your steps.
If your answer betrays Him, even if the world chants your name, you are already lost.
Karbala was not a call to die. It was a call to live for something worth dying for.
Suratul Asr was not a verse to recite only. It was and still is the standard operating procedure, an SOP, of life.
Let your life be the bridge between them. A bridge of belief, action, truth, and patience.
And if you are misunderstood, smile. You are in good company.
The prophets were misunderstood.
The martyrs were lonely.
The truthful were mocked.
But the Beloved never left them.
Walk with Him.
Even if it means walking a lone.
For what is a lone, when you walk with the Alone?
That, dear soul, is not just enough.
That is everything and no sin.
