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by Rutgers University Muslim Students Association

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Qalam’s Crossing

Sacrilegious

By: Justoju

My family is dying from bombs that come flying
Down upon the children who stoop to drink
By the river that has been polluted by chemical poisons
That has already drowned humanity’s links.
Rapists are stealing from my sisters and forcing them to take
Babies that they never wanted to make
That will be called ‘bastards’ for their entire lives
And proof that their mother’s were not ‘pure white’.
The houses are burning from fires caused by fighters
Who see the toys and blankets as terrorist tools
That could give the children a childhood to use
To ‘illegally’ have a life that is happy and unconfused.
My brothers are committing zina with all of their body
That is old enough for masturbation but not old enough for ‘shaadi’
That is old enough to die in wars but not old enough to love and live
In a materialistic Ummah where in-laws sort dollars with a sieve.
My sisters are forgetting the confidence of our high Mothers
Who knew their greatest beauty lay in between supplicating fingers
Who knew their greatest victory lay in the smile of submission
That gave rise to the subsequent generations of Muslims.
Brothers are busy fighting each other in video games
Carelessly squandering their precious testosteronic drive for
Justice On a field in which both wins and losses defeat one’s purpose
Of making the reality in which they are needed a road to success.
World ‘peace-makers’ are robbing our resources, sensibilities and will
Dizzying us with new desires for tight pants, shiny cars and brand names
That will help us feel like we have reached some prestige in a Duniya
That makes us believe that Islamic fundamentalism is to blame.
Our terrestrial Amanah is gasping, choking from synthetic fumes
That were created in factories where my children are abused
By rich capitalists who father and are fathered by their wallets
That see my destiny’s children as liable ‘accidents’.
I am dying daily from these sacrilegious abuses to man’s honor
The dying, stealing, burning, committing, forgetting, fighting, robbing, gasping
All occurring within my body’s innermost sanctuaries and recurring
My only hope resting in a world unborn yet waiting,
A world waiting within the developing womb
Of our awakening.

Dried Plums

By: Justoju

I tasted once a juicy plum
That savored away all taste of glum
That made my soul feel light with light
And transcend beyond to inward heights

It made me forget the worldly cares
And caused me to weep for a heavens share
It gave me motivation to decide to live
To take my wants and from them to give

It abated my thirst yet created more
Swimming out to sea, leaving the shore
No longer afraid of drowning deep
The waves could not hold and they could not keep

Knowing that they too were slaves
Unable to harm and unable to save
Creation could no longer create any fear
Could not love and could not cheer

I nourished that plum with my very blood
Knowing it deserved more than my dirt water mud
I protected it with my sajdahs and smiles
Its fortitude tested with sabr during trials

I cleansed it nightly with dua and tears
Hoping to make it spotless, sound and clear
I knew my Beloved would one day inspect its state
And its health and juice would seal my fate

And so I nourished, protected, and cleansed
Until I reached one of the roads unavoidable bends
I slipped and fell, dust flying in my eyes
That made the truth look indistinct from lies

I found myself in a valley of delight
Where every indulgent moment laid upon my plum a blight
The tastes, sights, scents, and strokes were sweet
Forgot that I ever had had a Beloved who I had wished to meet

My plum was forgotten, and left to wither within
Left to dry in a place from me hidden
So distracted was I that its taste I did not desire
And thus left untasted, it became drier and drier

I no longer nourished, protected, or cleansed
For I could not see that it was in need of some mends
I danced in the rain and swam in the lakes
Heedless of the plum in my pleasures sake

I smiled, laughed, cried, and hoped for my peers
Creations effects became the subject of my fears
No motivation left to pray and weep
No care of sins shallow or deep

The taste forgotten, the juices parched dry
So little emotion left with which to cry
Without tears the soul can have no rainbow
And stares at the empty sky for the hint of rain shadow

And so I write from a heart memory failing
And try to grasp an ancient loves trailing
Struggle to remember times when life was true
And the plum was fresh and glowing with dew

The tragedy isnt in my lack of dedication
But lies in my smug content satisfaction
It lies in my not wanting to want more
In my comfortable life as duniyas whore

And so I speak with the voiceless garbled signs of a mute
Trying to once again make music but with a stuffed lute
And so I write with a dying cold heart blind, deaf and dumb
Wishing to want to sacrifice all these orchards for just a taste of that plum

He Despaired

Screen Shot 2013-02-27 at 2.50.52 PMBy: Justoju

He sat watching one booty-shaking music video after another, wanting to drown his Islamic conscience and despair in the all-absorbing waters of ‘entertainment’. In the intoxicants that he publicly condemned and that he had sworn off long ago. He wanted the voice in his head to be quiet. He didn’t want to think about how sad his spiritual case was and how off the Straight Path he had moved and was moving. He was depressed and that led to his being self-destructive.

He punched a hole in the wall.

He wanted not only to hurt himself physically, but to sin so much that his soul would fry in hell as well. He wanted to bleed and to be mangled, to break in every way. He wanted to feel pain. Perhaps he just wanted to feel.

He was in despair regarding his deen. He saw that he didn’t have the willpower it would take to get himself out of this rut and despite his hoping for divine intervention, none came. What was worse was that he realized that he didn’t ‘care’ enough to really seriously ‘want’ divine intervention to help him. He saw that he wasn’t all as upset about his sinning as he should have been or as he used to be. This was depressing because he ‘knew’ it to be a sign of damnation; that he would just stop caring about being on the straight path. He felt like he was no longer ‘chosen’ and that Allah, Glorious and Exalted, was no longer helping him. He had fallen out of grace. He felt helpless and impotent.

In an attempt to revive some himmah in his limp and defeated body, he opened his writing journal, hoping to find something that he had written in a moment of spiritual peak that could remind him of what he had seemed to forgotten. He had the habit of putting his emotions to paper so that he could examine his states later and learn from them and his book was filled with poems and reminders that he had placed there in case he ever forgot what was important in life. He read a rambling plea he had written last Ramadan.

No one else can hear me
So I know
You are especially listening
You amaze me
You who I cannot touch
Cannot feel but with my heart’s throbbing
Cannot shower with grateful kisses
Desperate and needy embraces
Cannot give to In a moment
You make me drown
The world disappears
My heart’s gaze upon You
My thirst at its peak
Your Name replacing names
Those meaningless sounds I speak
Just You
Everything does natural sajdah
Even wild tears fall prostrate upon the leveled dirt
Upon their origin
Watering the earth that made them
Don’t go
Please I want to die like this
With this thirst
My arrogance on its knees
I want to be with
You I want to be Yours
Please
Don’t go
Please
I will be good
What can I do to please You?
If You go then I will lose everything
I am wretched
Ungrateful
Sinful
I will fall back
I will lose this thirst
And will chase these age-old illusions
Will regress for the worst
Don’t let me lose this
Don’t let me be stupid
Don’t let me want anything else
Please Let this last this time
There is nothing else worth wanting
Don’t let me want anything else
Choose me
Choose me to want You
Choose me to want to give myself to You
Choose me to want to burn in Your desire
Burning like incense above Your altar’s fire
Let my concern for all else be annihilated in my surrender
Let me exist only to please You
To be like he, peace and blessings be upon him, who pleased you the most
To praise You To glorify You To seek You from You.
Don’t let me forget.
Please
I don’t want to go back.
I don’t want to be me.

He recalled the tears that still streaked the paper he held and made the ink run in some places. Feeling homesick, he ran his fingers over the stains. He felt a sudden pang of anger. He asked the emptiness around him WHY he had been let go when he had been so sincere and asked so desperately. WHY did the Creator, who he so lovingly cried out to, not make him of his favorites and keep him on the Straight Path? WHY wasn’t he invited to ‘FEEL’ anymore? WHY was he forgotten and left to live and die amongst the ranks of the heedless? He used to be so good, going to halaqahs, doing dawah on the streets, growing his beard, lowering his gaze, staying away from what was forbidden of the flesh and of the food, and waking for tahajjud. WHY was his heart now made of stone? WHY was he let go?

At that moment something inside of him snapped. He took a deep breath. He threw the conscience and guilt aside. He despaired. He let go.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(47 years, 3 illegitimate children, 2 failed marriages, countless bottles, and various drug addictions later…)

The sun was courting the west outside his hospital room. He asked the nurse to help him sit up so that he could write. She said that he must not exert himself. He said that he had to write to save his soul. Confused but not wanting to argue, she propped him up with a few pillows, handed him a notebook and a pen and left to take an early break.

He had to die knowing what went wrong and what the purpose of his life was–and for that he had to write. Things only made sense for him when the fluid black ink met the flat predictable white of the paper; the arena where he could make the grays in his life into the easily differentiable black and white. Though his wrinkled and knotted hands were weak, mapped with the blue of his veins, his written word was strong and vibrant. He was always amazed by the eternal youth that stared back at him from the pages that his bent and enfeebled body produced. It had been so long since he had actually written Truth. So long since he had actually recognized it. But he felt he had to write, for if he didn’t attempt to find Truth now he would die knowing only falsehoods. He didn’t have time.

He wrote for pages, rambling and flowing from thought to thought, recounting petty accomplishments and grand defeats, trying to give himself nasihah as to what he would have done differently were he to be given a second chance. He wrote chronologically backwards (it seemed ironically-just to him), going through his old age first, then his maturity, then youth. Pages were filled. He wrote his way into his twenties. When he started writing about the first time he had ever gotten drunk and woken up lying beside a prostitute, his hand stopped. That year was hard to remember. As he focused and forced his mind to recollect, to wade through decades of murky memories, trying to remember the forgotten, his eyes started filling with tears. His mind played long-buried clips of a young man, innocent and new to serious sin. He watched the man hedonistically throw himself into vice, going from one ‘first-time’ to another. He watched innocence itself die before him and become buried under years of arrogance. He wept, longing for peace, some solace, some reason. His memory achingly brought him back to a night, a single night, which had changed his life.

A hole in the wall.
Mtv in the background.
A book of poems in his hand.

He felt like he was falling from a steep cliff, watching the vivid moments of that night whiz past him at breakneck speed as if they were embedded in the cliff itself that he had fallen from.

He remembered.

He buried his head in his pages of sin and wept with abandon, letting his tears blur the words and causing them to run upon one another, his life resembling one big messy page of flowing sin. It had been so long since he had cried for his own self, for his own state. After a lifetime of running, of sinning and dying, he wanted to stop and cry for himself. He wanted to face Truth and live. He was ready to write a word of life.

After having composed himself he took his now wet papers and threw them into the trashcan beside his bed. He opened his notebook to a fresh new page and started writing, hoping to pick up his life where he had left it. He needed desperately to tell the young man in his memories what he had done wrong so that his older counterpart could learn and be free of the knots and tangles of the past. Inspired, his gnarled hands started writing:

“I know You are listening. You always are. I know what I did wrong. I realize why I couldn’t get out of the rut.

I took no responsibility and used Your Qadr as an excuse. I sounded like a whiny child complaining about how he doesn’t really want to do the task and just wants the adult to do the task for him. I just wanted You to ‘program’ or ‘destine’ me to do good works and to not really have to partake in any struggle myself. This is absolutely idiotic and impossible since I am a human and neither an angel nor an animal. I don’t get ‘programmed’, I get to make my own choices. The one thing that I was given that the rest of creation wasn’t was the freedom of choice, a will. That is the divine boon, the biggest blessing to be had. This is the part of You that You chose to give us and withheld from the rest of Your creation. It is sacred–and with all things sacred comes a divine Covenant. For me to reject the gift of freedom of choice and refuse to acknowledge its existence and importance is an insult to the blessing and to the Bestower of the blessing. It is ungratefulness. The whole purpose of existence was for me to WILLINGLY and WILLFULLY choose to submit to You despite the struggle. If I want Your love I will only be able to reach it by making the deliberate decision to submit and then doing so.

I was so tired of repenting and then sinning and then repenting and then sinning. I was so ashamed of the constant unfaithfulness. So ashamed that I felt that I could no longer face You with my excuses and self-delusions. I thought I was being humble and sincere, but really, it was simple and pure arrogance. When one does not return to You and repent, one is saying that one doesn’t want to bother You and that one can live without You. The truth is, whether I am good or bad, worthy of your concern or not, I have no one to turn to save You. I have no one else to ask from, no one else who will listen or who can do anything. There is no such thing as me being worthy or unworthy of you because I will NEVER be worthy of you. I will always be absolutely and eternally dependent upon Your Mercy and Forgiveness. I will always HAVE to be on my knees, my nose in the dirt. A sinner who recognizes his dependence upon You and then turns to You in repentance is better than the worshipper who feels his good works have made him more deserving of Your blessings.

I never should have despaired of Your Mercy and of Your Wisdom. Feeling damned is a self-fulfilling prophecy in that the more damned you think you are, the more you despair; and the more you despair the more chances there are of you becoming damned. If anything, I damned myself.

I repent to You and turn to You with newfound hope. I realize now that hope is never lost. Tawakkul flows within the veins of the believer and without it he dies, shriveled and colorless. Tawakkul circulates and nourishes the organs of the shari’ah. Tawakkul is propelled forward with every beat of one’s Qalb.
Tawakkul will take me home.
I choose to have hope.
I choose slave hood.
I choose to submit.
I choose You.

Ash-hadu anla ilaha illal-Lahu Wahdahu la Sharika Lahu wa-ash-hadu anna Muhammadan abduhu wa rasuluhu

With those final words his body collapsed, his energy spent and his heart at peace. It had been years since he last felt the meaning behind those words, and now that he felt it again the overall revelation overwhelmed him. He put his notebook and pen down and closed his eyes. He was so very tired. He had had to travel so far and so long to be where he was now–and he knew the journey was not yet over. He had a few long days of struggle ahead of him, and he couldn’t wait to open his eyes in the morning and begin. He knew the sacred covenant–if he put his efforts and intentions into it, Allah, Glorious and Exalted, would give him tawfiq.

For the first time in decades, he had hope. For the first time, he couldn’t wait to live. For the first time he was excited by the prospect of prayer. For the first time he craved the intimacy of dhikr. He had a whole new set of ‘first times’ that he couldn’t wait to indulge in before the end of his life. In fact, every time would feel like the first time.

He closed his eyes and saw the young man smiling back at him. His innocence had been refound.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“The strong believer is better and more beloved to Allah than the weak believer, though there is good in both. Be avid for that which benefits you. Rely on Allah and do not deem yourself incapable.” –Prophet Muhammad (Peace and blessings be upon him) [Muslim, Ibn Majah, and Ahmad]

Let Them Spit

Screen Shot 2013-02-27 at 10.11.50 PM

By: Justoju

I lie awake

Drowned in self disgust

Having lost self-trust

Having made self fake

And wanting only to just

Be spat upon

Until that river

Washes clean this kibr

That coats my cavities

And smirks at the Giver

While it strokes the vanities

The pretend sanity

That make it thicker

Yet make my heart thinner

And my soul a sinner

So let them spit

Upon this fallen flesh pit

That needs to be awakened

Shaken

Needs to be hit

With a cold reality bath

So that maybe later it wont be taken

And washed by the fire’s wrath

In the Truth’s aftermath

That I have forsaken.

Guide to RUMSA

By: Justoju

Screen Shot 2013-02-27 at 2.50.27 PM

Welcome! Marhaba! Khushamdeed!

I would like to welcome all the new freshman and transfer students to Rutgers. It’s wonderful to have you here! Here are some tips to help you adjust to the RUMSA experience. Not heeding these friendly reminders might result in irreparable harm to your reputation and/or failure to find a marriage partner:

– If you are a guy, don’t look at the sisters.

– If you are a girl, don’t look at the brothers.

– Don’t sit anywhere where it might be assumed you are trying to look at the opposite gender, or trying to be seen by them.

– Walk with your head down (preferably with your chin touching your chest) lest someone thinks you were trying to look at the opposite gender.

– Don’t wear sunglasses or transition lenses. People will assume you are trying to secretly look at non-mahrams. – If you are a guy, grow a beard. The unbearded lose credibility. Don’t style it too much. It’s not a bonsai tree.

– If you are a girl, stop wearing makeup. Women with makeup on are assumed to be trying to lure in hapless brothers. Wear a jilbab. Burn all high-heeled or open-toed shoes. You don’t want to be the girl with the immodest toes.

– Don’t linger outside of the meeting room. It is assumed you are trying to look at the opposite gender.

– If you are handsome or beautiful, be extra careful about these rules, others will assume you are not acting conservatively enough to deflect the attention of the opposite gender. While mortification/scarring of the body are haram acts, there has been no scholarly dismissal of the handy-dandy ‘wearing-a-paper-bag-over-your-head’ technique. Please ensure that your eye, nose and mouth holes are not so big that others can see your beauty through them, thereby obviating the point of the paper bag. Please don’t draw a handsome/beautiful face on top of your paper bag or hang jewelry from it.

– If you are a guy, wear a shalwar kamiz with the shalwar no longer than your ankles. Fashionable American clothing makes you seem like a gigolo. If you wear a thowb, make sure there is something under it, no matter how pleasing a cool summers breeze might be to your sensibilities.

– When you go to the masjid, don’t loiter outside. It is assumed that you are trying to check out the opposite gender and/or trying to get yourself checked out.

– If you are female, don’t speak in the meeting room. It will be assumed that you are trying to call attention to yourself. If you need to say something to one of the brothers, find a female relative of theirs’ to relay your message.

– If you are male, don’t speak in the meeting room. It will be assumed that you are trying to call attention to yourself. If you need to say something to one of the sisters, find a male relative of theirs’ to relay your message. Extra modesty points for using their wali.

– If you are the Amir, don’t look in the sisters direction. It will be assumed that you are taking advantage of your position.

– If you are the Amir, don’t be funny. It will be assumed that you are trying to attract the sisters with your personality. That goes for all other brothers as well.

– Do not volunteer to be in a mixed committee. It will be assumed that you are trying to ‘get to know’ the non-mahram members of the committee.

– If someone is speaking during the meeting, don’t look at them. It will be assumed that you like them. It doesn’t matter if the person is the speaker/Amir/committee head. Remember, you can’t lose with eyes on shoes.

– When you pray, don’t try to pray any extra nafl prayers in front of others. It will be assumed that you are showing off to win respect and admiration.

– If you go to a restaurant and see an RUMSA member of the opposite gender sitting there, either sit out of viewing distance of the person or get your food to go. Failure to do this will cause the person (and/or all those other eyes that have been watching you) to assume you like the person.

– If you are a guy and get caught looking at a girl, don’t look at her ever again. If you look at her ONE other time (on any date, era, or dimension) she will assume that you like her.

– If you are a girl and get caught looking at a guy, it’s too late, you have now confirmed his suspicion that he is a sexy beast. Thanks a lot. – If you have RUMSA member(s) in your class, don’t talk to any Nonmuslims of the opposite gender. No one likes a hypocrite. Apply all the listed rules to the classroom as well.

– If you are a female, don’t ever stop off at the bathroom before going to a meeting or event. It is assumed that you are touching up your makeup or primping.

– If you are a male and you see that a sister is carrying a stack of heavy boxes/books/crates etc. and is about to fall over, don’t offer to help or open any doors for her. It will be assumed that you like her. She shouldn’t have been overestimating her strength and balance.

Adhering to these tips will ensure a pleasant and honorable RUMSA experience and will enable you to graduate with your reputation intact and a decent shot at getting married to someone within the MSA National network (word travels). Moreover, you will be saved from the blazing flesh-roasting fires of Jahannum as well!

Have a wonderful year, help yourself to some refreshments and a Welcoming Kit, and hope to see you at the next meeting! :D

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Brothers and sisters, what you see above is not a representation of present-day RUMSA (Alhamdulillah wa shukrillah). What you see above is an example of what happens in an Islamic organization when benefit of the doubt is withheld and assumptions are made regarding the intentions of others. The result: fear and a feeling of discomfort and paranoia whenever one is in the company of members of the organization. Because it has left the sunnah of the Rasool (May Allah bless him and give him peace), the organization inevitably self-destructs and its absence eventually becomes the reason for many a muslim’s decline.

Aoodhobillah.

* “And follow not that of which you have no knowledge (i.e. do not say anything, or do any thing, or bear witness to anything that you have no knowledge of). Verily the hearing, and the sight, and the heart will all be questioned (by Allah).” (Surah Al-Israa: 36)

* Narrated by AbuHurayrah: Allah’s Messenger (May Allah bless him and give him peace) said “A Muslim is the brother of a Muslim. He neither oppresses him nor humiliates him nor looks down upon him. The piety is here, (and while saying so) he pointed towards his chest thrice. It is a serious evil for a Muslim that he should look down upon his brother Muslim. All things of a Muslim are inviolable for his brother in faith; his blood, his wealth and his honour”. (Reported by Muslim)

* Narrated by Abu Hurairah: “Verily, a servant may say a word without thinking whether it is right or wrong (not understanding its repercussions), and he may fall down into Hell-fire because of it further than the distance between the East and the West.” (Reported by Bukhari and Muslim)

* “Verily, the Believers are brothers. Then set matters right between your brothers and be conscious of Allah in order that you may obtain mercy. O you who believe, let not some people mock at other people, for they may be better than themselves, nor (let) women (mock) at women who may be better than themselves. And do not slander yourselves, nor revile by (offensive) nicknames; evil is a name connoting wickedness after believing; and whoever does not turn away (from doing this), those are wrongdoers.” (Qur’an. 49:10)

* “Avoid suspicion, for airing suspicion is the most lying form of speech.” (Reported by al-Bukhari and others.)

* “If you have a suspicion, do not pursue it.” (Reported by al-Tabarani.)

* Abu Haitham, the scribe of ‘Uqbah bin ‘Amir, a Companion of the Prophet (peace be on him) narrated, “I said to ‘Uqbah bin ‘Amir, ‘Some of our neighbors drink wine, and I am going to call the police and have them arrested.’ He said, ‘Do not do so, but advise them and warn them.’ I said, ‘I told them to stop it but they do not listen to me. I am therefore going to inform the police and have them arrested.’ ‘Uqbah then said, ‘Woe to you! Do not do that, for I heard the Messenger of Allah (May Allah bless him and give him peace) say, “If one conceals the private affairs (of others), it is like reviving a girl who has been buried alive from her grave.” (Reported by Abu Daoud’ al-Nisai, Ibn Hibban in his Sahih, and al-Hakim. The wording is from Ibn Hibban.)

* “O you who believe, avoid (indulging in) much suspicion; truly some suspicion is a sin. And do not spy or backbite one another; would any of you like to eat the flesh of his dead brother? You would abhor that. And be conscious of Allah; indeed, Allah is Relenting, Merciful” (49:12)

* Ibn ‘Umar narrated, “Allah’s Messenger (May Allah bless him and give him peace) mounted the pulpit and called out in a loud voice, O you who declare Islam with your tongues but whose hearts have not been reached by faith, do not annoy the Muslims nor seek out their faults, for he who seeks out the faults of his brother Muslim will have his faults sought out by Allah, and when Allah seeks out someone’s faults, He exposes them, even though he should be in the interior of his house.” (Reported by al-Tirmidhi, and Ibn Majah has reported something similar.)

* Mu’awiyah reported the Prophet (May Allah bless him and give him peace) as saying, “If you seek out peoples’ faults, you will corrupt them, or bring them very near to corruption” (Reported by Abu Daoud and by Ibn Hibban in his Sahih.)

* Allah does not like the announcing of evil in public speech except by one who has been wronged; and Allah is Hearing, Knowing. (Qur’an. 4:148)

* The Prophet (May Allah bless him and give him peace) said, If anyone defends his brother who is slandered in his absence, it will be (his) due from Allah to set him free from the Fire. (Reported by Ahmad on good authority.)

* “If anyone defends his brother’s honor in this world, Allah will shield his face from the Fire on the Day of Resurrection.” (Reported by al Tirmidhi on sound authority.)

* During the Farewell Pilgrimage the Prophet (May Allah bless him and give him peace) addressed the assembly of Muslims, saying “Your lives, your honor, and your property are as sacred to each other as the sacredness of this your day, in this your month, and in this your city.” (Reported by Muslim.)

* ‘Aishah reported that the Prophet (May Allah bless him and give him peace) said to his Companions, ‘Do you know what the worst form of usury is in the sight of Allah?’ They said, ‘Allah and His Messenger know best’ The Prophet (May Allah bless him and give him peace) replied, ‘The worst form of usury is the violation of the personal honor of a Muslim.’ He then recited, ‘Those who harm believing men and believing women undeservedly have laid upon themselves a calumny and a manifest sin.’ (33:58) (Reported by Ibn Abu Hatim, Ibn Murdawai and al-Bayhaqi.)

* Narrated by AbuHurayrah: Allah’s Messenger (May Allah bless him and give him peace) said “Beware of suspicion. Suspicion is the most untrue speech. Do not spy and do not eavesdrop. Do not compete with each other and do not envy each other and do not hate each other and do not shun each other. Be slaves of Allah, brothers.” (47.15 of Muwatta of Imam Malik)

* Imam Nawawi (Allah Most High have mercy on him) mentions, in the introduction of Sharh al-Muhadhdhab, that “it is obligatory for a student to give a positive interpretation to every utterance of his brothers that seems to be wrong until he has exhausted seventy excuses. No one is capable of this except a failure.”

* Abu Bakr once said, “Do not belittle any Muslim for the most insignificant Muslim is great in the eyes of Allah.”

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