Surah al-Mulk: The Illusion of Ownership (Ramadan Special)

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Introduction​

Some chapters of the Qur’an do more than merely convey information; they shake the very foundations of human thought. Surah al-Mulk is one of them. It does not revolve around a single, isolated issue. Instead, it targets the greatest illusion nested deep within the human psyche—the illusion that I am in control.

The Virtue and Grandeur of Surah al-Mulk​

Numerous narrations highlight the greatness and virtue of Surah al-Mulk.
The Messenger of Allah ﷺ said:
“There is a surah in the Book of Allah consisting of only thirty verses. It will continue to intercede for its reciter until he is forgiven.”
(Tirmidhi 2891, Abu Dawud 1400, Musnad Ahmad 2/299)
Another narration states:
“There is a surah in the Qur’an that will argue on behalf of its reciter until it admits him into Paradise.”
(Majma‘ al-Zawa’id 7/172, Sahih al-Jami‘ 3644)
According to a narration in Sunan al-Tirmidhi, the Prophet ﷺ would recite Surah al-Sajdah and Surah al-Mulk before going to sleep. (Tirmidhi 2892)
Shaykh al-Albani رحمه الله narrates in al-Silsilah al-Sahihah that Surah al-Mulk serves as protection from the punishment of the grave—meaning that one who is consistent with it, while adhering to the commandments of Islam, may hope to be safeguarded from the torment of the grave.
These virtues declare a profound truth: Surah al-Mulk is not merely a chapter to be recited—it is a chapter to be lived.

Al-Mulk: One Word, One Declaration, One Challenge​

In the Arabic language, al-Mulk does not simply mean kingship.
It encompasses three deep and interconnected dimensions:
Milk (Ownership): Absolute possession
Mulk (Dominion): Total authority and control
Malik (King): The One who commands and decides
Surah al-Mulk establishes all three meanings in a single breath.
The surah opens with a decisive and all-encompassing declaration:
“Blessed is He in whose Hand is all dominion.”
In other words: all sovereignty, all authority, every decision rests solely with Allah.
Here, humanity is told plainly:
You are not the overseer—you are the possessed.
You are not the owner—you are the subject.
You are not the center—you are the servant.
This is an intellectual earthquake.

The Illusion of Human Control​

In everyday life, human beings constantly say “mine”:
my house, my time, my children, my body, my future…
Slowly, this “mine” transforms into a sense of ownership.
Surah al-Mulk comes to shatter this feeling. It reminds humanity:
The ground you walk upon is not yours.
The breath that keeps you alive is not yours.
The very moment you stand in is not yours.

The Intellectual Journey of Surah al-Mulk​

This surah unfolds as a meticulously structured intellectual journey:
First, the proclamation of absolute dominion
Then, life and death defined as a test
Then, the flawless structure of the sky that exhausts human vision
Then, the fragility and instability of the earth
Then, human helplessness in matters of sustenance
And finally… water
This sequence is anything but accidental.
The surah lifts humanity from the illusion of authority and places it squarely before the reality of dependence.

The Ending: Water — One Sip, One Truth​

At the end of the surah, a simple yet devastating question is asked:
If your water were to sink into the earth, who could bring you flowing water?
There is no talk here of empires, power, or intellect—only water.
Why?
Because water is the blessing without which kings perish, philosophers fall helpless, and science falls silent.
It is a simple yet lethal question:
If the most basic blessing is taken away, where does your control go?

Why Is the Surah Named “Al-Mulk”?​

Because this surah comes to strip humanity of its greatest lie:
I am in control.
The entire structure of Surah al-Mulk is a deep psychological framework.
The Qur’an could have named this surah al-Khushu‘ (Submission), al-Mawt (Death), or even al-Ma’ (Water).
But it did not.
It named it al-Mulk.
So that the human being would first think: Yes—power, authority, dominion—this is about me.
And then, gradually, the surah exposes that very assumption.
This surah does not define dominion—it denies it to humanity.
Humans do not own dominion.
Humans do not own the earth.
Humans do not own their bodies.
Humans do not own their time.
Humans do not even own the moment of their own death.
So the question arises: Then who does dominion belong to?
And the answer, in every verse, remains the same:
“He in whose Hand is all dominion.”

A Name That Is Also a Rebuke​

The very title of the surah seems to address humanity directly:
Oh? You consider yourself an owner?
Then look at the sky…
Then look at the earth…
Then look at the grave…
Then look at the water…
And finally ask yourself: Now tell me—who is the Owner?

The Grave and Surah al-Mulk​

Surah al-Mulk does not merely say, “Allah is Powerful.”
It says: You are powerless—and you refused to admit it.
And it is this denial that destroys humanity.
That is why this surah becomes light in the grave.
Because in the grave, a person possesses no authority, no defense, no “mine.”
There, only one question matters:
Whom did you acknowledge as the Owner in your worldly life?
Surah al-Mulk will testify:
This was a person who never considered himself the owner—even while alive.

Conclusion​

The true purpose of Surah al-Mulk is to shatter false authority, expose human arrogance, and remind humanity of its true position. This surah removes the human being from the throne and seats them in servitude.
And that, ultimately, is the purpose of the Qur’an itself.
 

تَبَارَكَ الَّذِي بِيَدِهِ الْمُلْكُ ۖ وَهُوَ عَلَىٰ كُلِّ شَيْءٍ قَدِيرٌ


تَبَارَكَ​

The root of تَبَارَكَ is ب ر ك (Bā, Rā, Kāf) — one of the most profound and layered roots in the Arabic language.
In classical Arabic, the primary meaning of بَرَكَ is: to settle firmly in place, to remain grounded, to stay without slipping away.
Hence the expression: بَرَكَ البَعِيرُthe camel sat down and firmly settled.
From this emerges a remarkable insight:
That which contains barakah does not slip away, does not decay, and does not become meaningless.
Barakah does not merely mean “having more” or “an increase in quantity.”
Rather, barakah means:
  • A small amount becoming sufficient
  • Something remaining firmly in its place
  • Continuous benefit flowing from it
  • Impact that endures over time
That is why:
  • A person may have abundant wealth yet no peace → no barakah.
  • A short amount of time may still be enough to complete great work → barakah.
  • Little knowledge may completely transform one’s actions → barakah.
Now reflect on the verb form: تَبَارَكَ
This verb comes from Bāb al-Tafā‘ul, which carries the meaning of self-contained, intrinsic greatness and abundance.
Meaning: Allah does not receive barakah from anyone.
Allah does not acquire blessing from elsewhere.
Barakah emanates from His very Being.
That is why تَبَارَكَ is used only for Allah.
The Qur’an never uses this word for a human, a prophet, or any created thing.
The Qur’an does not say: بَارَكَ اللَّهُ (Allah granted blessing)
Instead, it says:
تَبَارَكَ الَّذِي
Meaning: His very existence is blessing.
Where Allah is remembered, where Allah is obeyed, where a connection to Allah exists — barakah arrives on its own.
💡 Pause and ask yourself:
Where am I searching for barakah?
In things? In people? In plans?
The Qur’an is telling us:
Barakah is not in things — it is in connection.
When life is connected to Allah:
little time becomes enough,
limited strength achieves great outcomes,
and even a small act of worship transforms the heart.

الَّذِي​

الَّذِي is a relative pronoun in Arabic.
Its basic translation: who, the One who, the One whose…
In Arabic rhetoric, when the phrase تَبَارَكَ الَّذِي is used, it implies:
“That One — whose identity is now about to be revealed. Listen carefully.”
First, grandeur is established: تَبَارَكَ
Then the question arises: Who?
And the answer comes: الَّذِي
This word prepares the heart for what is about to follow.
Why الَّذِي and not the name “Allah” directly?
Allah does not say:
تَبَارَكَ اللَّهُ بِيَدِهِ الْمُلْكُ
Instead, He says:
تَبَارَكَ الَّذِي بِيَدِهِ الْمُلْكُ
Why?
Because the Qur’an wants us to recognize Allah through His attributes, not merely His name.
Meaning:
The One whose barakah is infinite — He alone is the One in whose hand lies all dominion.
This style plants certainty in the heart, not just information in the mind.
After الَّذِي, something immense always follows.
It is never used for something trivial.
Here, what follows is:
بِيَدِهِ الْمُلْكُ
Meaning:
  • If it is authority → it is Him
  • If it is judgment → it is Him
  • If it is outcome → it is Him
💡 Pause and reflect:
What do I treat as the real authority in my life?
Which person, system, or circumstance have I given a status that belongs only to الَّذِي?
If truly He alone is in control — then whom do I needlessly fear?

بِيَدِهِ​

بِ — conveys closeness, directness, intimate connection
يَد (hand) in Arabic does not merely mean a physical hand. It also signifies:
  • Authority
  • Power
  • Control
  • The ability to decide and act freely
بِيَدِهِ means: in His hand
in His absolute grasp, under His direct control, without intermediary, without partner, without delegation.
📌 Important note:
Affirming “hand” for Allah is not anthropomorphism, not physicality, and not resemblance to creation.
It is an attribute affirmed with faith, while its how is left to Allah.
Bilā kayf, bilā tamthīl.
💡 Pause and write down:
Which part of my life do I believe is “in my hands”?
Which worry am I afraid to release?
If authority truly lies in His hand — what burden do I need to put down today?

الْمُلْكُ​

The root of الْمُلْكُ is م ل ك (m–l–k), meaning:
to possess such authority that one can withhold, alter, or use something however one wills.
From this root come:
  • مَالِك — owner
  • مُلْك — dominion
  • مَلِك — king
  • مَمْلُوك — one who is owned
Thus, mulk is not merely land or government — it is ultimate authority.
In the Qur’anic sense, الْمُلْكُ includes:
  • Life and death
  • Restriction and expansion of provision
  • Honor and humiliation
  • Strength and weakness
  • Opportunities and obstacles
  • Decisions of hearts
  • Outcomes and the Hereafter
What we casually call “circumstances,” the Qur’an calls mulk.
Notice: the word is الْمُلْكُ, not مُلْكٌ.
This alif-lām is al-istighrāq — totality.
Meaning: all dominion, without exception.
No emotional matter, no family issue, no financial worry, no time constraint lies outside this domain.
Now ask yourself — and write it down:
Where in my life have I assumed ownership?
In which matter do I claim Allah is the Owner, yet my heart refuses to release control?
If الْمُلْكُ truly belongs to Him — what control am I clinging to excessively?

وَهُوَ عَلَىٰ كُلِّ شَيْءٍ قَدِيرٌ​

وَ — “and”
Here, it does not merely connect — it confirms and seals everything before it.
هُوَHe alone
The same One mentioned before. The One with no partner. The One to whom all returns.
عَلَىٰ — upon, over
In Arabic, عَلَىٰ conveys dominance, superiority, and complete mastery.
كُلِّ — every single, without exception
شَيْءٍ — anything that can be called “a thing”:
a thought, a fear, a prayer, a destiny.
قَدِيرٌ — perfectly, eternally capable
Not merely qādir (able to do),
but qadīr — whose power is complete, constant, and never diminished.
Allah’s power does not tire, pause, or weaken.
We often say: “Allah can do it if He wills.”
The Qur’an takes us deeper:
For Allah, incapacity is not even a question — He is already fully capable of everything.
Illness or healing.
Closed door or open path.
Broken heart or renewed hope.
All lie within His power.
💡 Ask yourself:
What have I labeled “impossible”?
Which prayer did I abandon thinking, “What’s the point now?”
If He is truly عَلَىٰ كُلِّ شَيْءٍ قَدِيرٌ — which prayer should I revive today?

The Ayah settles in the heart like this:​

تَبَارَكَ الَّذِي بِيَدِهِ الْمُلْكُ وَهُوَ عَلَىٰ كُلِّ شَيْءٍ قَدِيرٌ
Blessed beyond measure is the One in whose hand lies all dominion — and He is fully capable over everything.
This ayah teaches us one thing above all:
Release fear. Release control. Hold firmly to certainty.
 

Surah al Mulk: The Illusion of Ownership Verse: 2​

الَّذِي خَلَقَ الْمَوْتَ وَالْحَيَاةَ لِيَبْلُوَكُمْ أَيُّكُمْ أَحْسَنُ عَمَلًا وَهُوَ الْعَزِيزُ الْغَفُورُ

الَّذِي​

This is the same word that appeared in the previous ayah.
Meaning: the conversation has not ended — the recognition of Allah is still unfolding.
It is as if the Qur’an is saying:
The One in whose hand lies all dominion — He alone is the One who created life and death.
Authority is not abstract.
It manifests itself in the most fundamental realities of existence.

خَلَقَ​

This word does not simply mean “to make.”
خَلَقَ means: to create with precise measure, deliberate wisdom, intentional order, and a clear purpose.
Meaning:
Life is not an accident.
Death is not a malfunction.
Both are created.
A crucial detail: this verb appears in absolute past tense
indicating a single, decisive act.
The systems of life and death were created with one command, at one time.
They do not need repeated intervention.
They are not improvised.

الْمَوْتَ​

Here comes something deeply striking:
The Qur’an mentions death first, then life.
Yet from our perspective, life comes first and death later.
Why?
Because our real life is the Hereafter.
This worldly life is only a transitional phase.
Death, therefore, is not “the end.”
It is a passage from one stage into another.
The Qur’an does not describe death as non-existence.
It presents death as a created entity — a reality with purpose.

وَالْحَيَاةَ​

الحياة is not merely breathing.
In the Qur’anic sense, life includes:
  • Awareness
  • Will
  • Choice
  • Responsibility
Meaning:
We are not just alive — we are accountable beings.
Notice carefully:
Allah says خَلَقَ الْمَوْتَ وَالْحَيَاةَ
He does not say: “He gave life and caused death.”
Rather:
He created both life and death.
Meaning:
Joy is a test.
Pain is a test.
Health is a test.
Illness is a test.
Life is a test.
Death is a test.

لِيَبْلُوَكُمْ​

لِـ — the particle of purpose: so that
يَبْلُوَكُمْHe may test you
The purpose of existence is stated clearly:
You were not sent here for comfort.
You were sent here for trial.
And trial does not come only through hardship —
blessings test just as much as difficulties do.
💡 Pause and ask yourself:
Do I see every moment of my life as an examination?
When blessings come — do I pass the test of gratitude?
When pain arrives — do I pass the test of patience?

أَيُّكُمْ​

Meaning: Which one of you?
This is not a collective test.
It is deeply personal.
Every individual stands alone.
No one is examined on behalf of another.

أَحْسَنُ عَمَلًا​

Here the Qur’an makes a remarkable shift:
It does not say: أَكْثَرُ عَمَلًاthe most deeds
It says: أَحْسَنُ عَمَلًاthe most beautiful deeds
Meaning:
Quality over quantity.
Included in أَحْسَن are:
  • Intention
  • Sincerity
  • Correct method
  • Seeking Allah’s pleasure
A small deed, if sincere, becomes immense with Allah.
💡 A dialogue with the self:
Is every action of mine — small or large — aiming to become أَحْسَن?
In prayer, am I merely completing movements — or striving toward the best prayer?
In fasting, is it just hunger — or a journey toward the best fast?

وَهُوَ الْعَزِيزُ​

عَزِيز — the One who is overpowering, unconquerable, irresistible.
Whose decision cannot be overturned.
Whose decree cannot be delayed.
Meaning:
The One who tests is not weak.
He possesses full authority.
This is not a casual examination — it is real and decisive.

الْغَفُورُ​

غَفُور — abundantly forgiving.
The sequence here is profound:
He is Powerful — yet Forgiving.
Meaning:
If you stumble in the test, the door does not close.
Failure is not final — repentance is always possible.
💡 One final question to ask yourself:
Do I see Allah only as عَزِيز — and worship Him out of fear alone?
Or only as غَفُور — and sin without concern?
Or have I gathered both attributes in my heart, becoming a balanced servant?

The Ayah, in essence:​

The One who holds all dominion is the same One who created life and death — for a single purpose: to test you. Do not be afraid. He is overpowering, yet endlessly forgiving. He is not looking for perfection — He is looking at your effort.
 

Surah al Mulk: The Illusion of Ownership Verse 3​

Ayah: 3​

الَّذِي خَلَقَ سَبْعَ سَمَاوَاتٍ طِبَاقًا ۖ مَّا تَرَىٰ فِي خَلْقِ الرَّحْمَٰنِ مِن تَفَاوُتٍ ۖ فَارْجِعِ الْبَصَرَ هَلْ تَرَىٰ مِن فُطُورٍ

الَّذِي​

The very same One.
So far, the unfolding introduction has been:
الَّذِي بِيَدِهِ الْمُلْكُ — the One who holds all authority
الَّذِي خَلَقَ الْمَوْتَ وَالْحَيَاةَ — the One who created life and death
الَّذِي خَلَقَ سَبْعَ سَمَاوَاتٍ — the Architect of the universe
It is as if Allah is saying:
I am not only the Ruler — I am the Architect.

خَلَقَ سَبْعَ سَمَاوَاتٍ طِبَاقًا​

سَبْعَ — the number seven.
In Arabic thought, seven signifies completion and perfection.
The seven heavens point toward ascending levels of perfection — each higher than the one below it.
سَمَاوَاتٍheavens, plural.
Root: س م و — to rise, to be elevated.
Everything that exists above us falls under samā’.
طِبَاقًا — from the root ط ب ق: to align perfectly, to be layered, to correspond.
طِبَاقًا carries three powerful meanings:
Layer upon layer — with no gaps
Harmonized — with no collision
Fully covering — with no void
This single word announces the breathtaking harmony of the universe.
Pause and imagine:
All cosmic systems — planets, stars, galaxies — moving like a perfectly composed symphony.
Nothing rushes ahead.
Nothing lags behind.
Ask your heart:
Is there طِبَاقًا in my own life?
Are my intentions, actions, and words aligned?
Or am I living in layers of contradiction?

مَّا تَرَىٰ فِي خَلْقِ الرَّحْمَٰنِ مِن تَفَاوُتٍ​

مَّا — a negation: there is not
تَرَىٰ
you see; a direct address to every human being
فِي خَلْقِ الرَّحْمَٰنِin the creation of al-Raḥmān
Reflect here: الرَّحْمَٰن is the Name that signifies all-encompassing mercy.
Every aspect of the universe is an expression of mercy —
from the heat of the sun to the coolness of the moon.
تَفَاوُتٍ — from ف و ت: to fall short, to lag behind.
Tafāwut means imbalance, inconsistency, mismatch, flaw.
Meaning:
No gaps.
No collisions.
No disorder.
Here, the Qur’an issues a challenge:
Open your eyes — do you see a flaw in the universe?
Has the sun ever said, “Today I will rise five minutes late”?
Has the moon ever decided, “Tonight I will not be full”?
Look inward:
Are the patterns on my fingertips flawed?
Is the rhythm of my heartbeat inconsistent?
If my own body reflects such precision — why do I neglect reflecting on its wisdom?

فَارْجِعِ الْبَصَرَ هَلْ تَرَىٰ مِن فُطُورٍ​

فَthen, now; the beginning of an experiment
ارْجِعِreturn it, turn it back.
From ر ج ع — to return.
This is a command, not a suggestion.
الْبَصَرَthe gaze.
Baṣar is not only physical sight — it includes inner perception.
It is as if the command is:
Turn back both your outward sight and inward insight. Look again.
هَلْ تَرَىٰ
Do you see?
هَلْ
creates curiosity and anticipation.
This is a rhetorical question — the answer can only be no.
فُطُورٍ — from ف ط ر: cracks, fractures, ruptures.
Futūr refers to the cracks that appear when something breaks apart.
Here, the Qur’an subtly teaches a scientific method:
Observe — تَرَىٰ
Re-observe — ارْجِعِ الْبَصَرَ
Conclude — هَلْ تَرَىٰ
Ramadan Connection:
In this month of fasting, we often use the word Iftar (breaking the fast). Interestingly, both words share the same root (ف ط ر), which means ‘to split’ or ‘to break.’
When we do Iftar, we break our fast.
When something is flawed, it has a ‘break’ or a ‘crack’ (Futūr).
But look at the sky during your Iftar or Suhoor — do you see any ‘break’ in Allah’s design? Do you see any ‘crack’ in the timing of the sunrise or the pattern of the moon?
The same perfection we see in the cosmos during Ramadan should be the perfection we strive for in our character. If Allah’s universe has no Futūr (cracks), why should our faith be full of cracks of doubt and inconsistency?

Essence of the Ayah​

The same One who created life and death has constructed seven heavens, layered in perfect harmony. You will find no imbalance in the creation of al-Raḥmān. So turn your gaze back — again and again. Do you see any crack at all?
 

Surah al Mulk: The Illusion of Ownership Verse 4​

ثُمَّ ارْجِعِ الْبَصَرَ كَرَّتَيْنِ يَنقَلِبْ إِلَيْكَ الْبَصَرُ خَاسِئًا وَهُوَ حَسِيرٌ

ثُمَّ

ثُمَّ does not merely mean “then.”
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It signifies a stage that comes after a pause.
Meaning:
The first reflection is not enough.
The second must come with deliberation.
This word breaks haste.
Allah restrains the human being from rushing to conclusions and says, in effect:
Pause… slow down… think again.

💡 Ask your heart:
In which matters do I rush to conclusions—without pausing, without reconsidering?

ارْجِعِ

Root: ر ج ع
Basic meaning: to return, to turn back.
Here, it does not mean merely directing the gaze outward again,
but turning it inward.
The Qur’an shows us the universe—
and then quietly turns us back toward ourselves.

💡 Ask yourself:
When I look at problems, do I ever turn my thinking back upon itself?

الْبَصَرَ

Root: ب ص ر
Meaning: to see with the eyes and to comprehend with the heart.
Baṣar
is not just eyesight—it is the foundation of baṣīrah (inner insight).
Often, the problem is not with the eyes,
but with the angle of vision.

كَرَّتَيْنِ

Root: ك ر ر
Meaning: to repeat, to return again and again, to examine attentively.
In Arabic usage, “two times” often implies repeatedly, not merely twice.
The more a person reflects,
the more clearly they recognize their own limits.

💡 Ask yourself honestly:
Did I truly reflect repeatedly—or did I form an opinion at first glance?
Do I give my faith only one look?
Have I ever returned again and again—كَرَّتَيْنِ—to examine my beliefs, my worship, my actions?
In Ramaḍān:
Is my fasting merely routine,
or do I revisit it repeatedly—asking what transformation it is bringing within me?

يَنقَلِبْ

Root: ق ل ب
Meaning: to turn over, to reverse, to change state.
From this root comes qalb (heart),
because the heart constantly turns.
What truly turns here is human certainty.
The Qur’an is defining the boundary of human intellect:
No matter how much you investigate, how deeply you reflect—your intellect, your vision, will eventually return to you empty-handed.
Why?
Because the Creator cannot be fully contained within the understanding of the created.

💡 Ask yourself:
Has my heart ever truly changed after reflection?

إِلَيْكَ

Root: ا ل ي
Meaning: back to you, toward you.
The gaze looks outward at the heavens,
but it returns to the human being.
The real lesson is not outside—it is within.

💡 Ask yourself:
While observing others and the world, do I ever truly look at myself?

الْبَصَرُ

The same gaze that once ventured outward
now comes back.
The universe did not change.
The human being did.

💡 Ask yourself:
Have I ever admitted that the flaw lies in how I see?

خَاسِئًا

Root: خ س أ
Meaning: to return humiliated, defeated, rebuked.
In the Qur’an, this word is used when arrogance collapses.
This humiliation is not destruction—
it is the doorway to guidance.

💡 Picture this in Ramaḍān:
Standing in tarāwīḥ, reciting سَبْعَ سَمَاوَاتٍ
does your intellect not return خَاسِئًا?
Do you not feel: “I truly know nothing”?

وَهُوَ

Root: ه و
Meaning: and it is—a form of emphasis.
The state has fully changed.

حَسِيرٌ

Root: ح س ر
Meaning: utterly exhausted, worn out, spent.
This is not physical fatigue—
this is the exhaustion of the ego.
When a human reaches the limits of understanding,
that is where īmān begins.

💡 Look into the mirror of your soul:
Do my acts of worship return خَاسِئًا and حَسِيرًا?
After prayer, do I feel humbled and emptied—thinking, “I offered nothing worthy”?
📍 If yes—this is a sign of depth.
📍 If not—be cautious. Perhaps pride has entered your worship.

Comprehensive Essence of the Ayah

This ayah teaches us:
  • Allah’s system is perfect
  • Human perception is limited
  • Through repeated reflection, the human being learns humility
And humility is the very root of faith.
 

Surah al Mulk: The Illusion of Ownership Verse 5​

وَلَقَدْ زَيَّنَّا السَّمَاءَ الدُّنْيَا بِمَصَابِيحَ وَجَعَلْنَاهَا رُجُومًا لِلشَّيَاطِينِ وَأَعْتَدْنَا لَهُمْ عَذَابَ السَّعِيرِ


وَلَقَدْ (Wa Laqad)

The particle “Wa” is used for oath and emphasis, while “Laqad” is a combination of lam and qad, which removes all doubt from a past statement and makes it absolute and undeniable.
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Lexical meaning: Surely, without doubt, with full certainty.
This word does not merely inform — it extracts doubt from the heart.
It is as though Allah is declaring with an oath: This reality is exactly as it is being stated.
💡 Ask your heart:
Do I truly place Allah’s words at the level of absolute certainty?
When I hear “Wa Laqad”, is my heart ready to listen attentively?
Does my soul tremble with awareness — or do these words merely pass by?

زَيَّنَّا (Zayyannā)

Root: ز ي ن
Lexical meaning: To beautify, to adorn, to make something pleasing to the heart.
This is not mere decoration — it is a beauty that draws the heart toward itself.
“Zayyannā” is a past-tense verb in the plural form: “We adorned.”
Adornment is of two kinds:
  1. Intrinsic beauty — that which exists within.
  2. Bestowed beauty — that which is granted from outside.
Here, “Zayyannā” makes it clear:
The beauty of the sky is not inherent — it is a gift from Allah.
💡 Ask your heart:
Do I believe that my beauty, abilities, and blessings are truly my own?
In the nights of Ramadan, when you look up at the sky after Tarāwīḥ —
do the stars appear to you as mere “burnt-out bulbs”?
Or do you witness the brilliance of “Zayyannā”
the divine harmony with which they have been arranged?

السَّمَاءَ (As-Samāʾ)

Root: س م و
Lexical meaning: To rise, to be elevated.
Samāʾ is not merely “the sky” —
it refers to everything that is above the human being.
Allah teaches us to look upward so that our hearts do not remain trapped in the earth.
Earlier, Allah mentioned the seven heavens (verse 3).
Here, He speaks specifically about the lowest heaven.
Why?
Perhaps because this is the limit of human sight and understanding.
We can see the stars of the first heaven — not beyond.
💡 Ask yourself:
Is my gaze mostly fixed on the earth — or directed toward the heavens?

الدُّنْيَا (Ad-Dunyā)

Root: د ن و
Lexical meaning: Near, lower, inferior.
This is the heaven closest to us —
yet the true reality lies far beyond what we can see.
The lesson here is profound:
What is visible is not all that exists.
💡 Ask yourself:
Have I mistaken the visible world for the whole truth?

بِمَصَابِيحَ (Bi-Maṣābīḥ)

Root: ص ب ح
Lexical meaning: Lamps, sources of light.
A miṣbāḥ is a light that pierces through darkness.
Stars are not merely scientific objects —
they are signs that guide through darkness.
The Qur’an does not call them “nujūm” (stars),
but “maṣābīḥ” (lamps).
Understand the difference:
  • Nujūm: Astronomical bodies.
  • Maṣābīḥ: Lights with purpose.
Every star is not just a burning sphere —
it is a lamp carrying meaning and intent.
Just as the lamps of the sky pierce physical darkness,
the lamps of the Qur’an pierce the darkness of the heart.
And just as maṣābīḥ beautify the sky,
remembrance and worship beautify the believer’s heart.
💡 Ask your inner self:
Is my personal sky of the world adorned with Allah’s lamps?
Which lamps illuminate my heart?
  • The lamp of the Qur’an?
  • The light of prayer?
  • The glow of remembrance?
Or is my sky dark — empty of stars?

وَجَعَلْنَاهَا (Wa Jaʿalnāhā)

Root: ج ع ل
Lexical meaning: To make, to appoint, to assign with purpose.
Jaʿala implies transformation and intentional placement.
This declares a universal truth:
Nothing in creation is without purpose.
💡 Ask yourself:
Do I consider my trials to be meaningless?

رُجُومًا (Rujūman)

Root: ر ج م
Lexical meaning: To stone, to drive away, to repel.
Here, it means that the stars themselves do not act independently —
they function as a divinely commanded system of protection.
Beauty is not weakness.
True beauty comes with protection.
💡 Ask yourself:
Have I mistaken gentleness for weakness?

لِلشَّيَاطِينِ (Lil-Shayāṭīn)

Root: ش ط ن
Lexical meaning: To be distant, to deviate.
A shayṭān is one who is distant from Allah and seeks to pull others away as well.
When devils attempt to ascend the heavens to steal hidden knowledge, the maṣābīḥ become rujūm — light itself turns into a weapon.
💡 Apply this to your life:
What are the devils within me?
  • Whisperings? Envy? Pride? Impatience?
And what lamps can become weapons against them?
  • Recitation? Remembrance? Charity? Fasting?
In Ramadan, have I turned my lamps of goodness
into weapons against my inner devils?

وَأَعْتَدْنَا (Wa Aʿtadnā)

Root: ع ت د
Lexical meaning: To prepare fully, to make ready in advance.
This implies complete preparation with no deficiency.
It tells us: Allah’s reckoning is not sudden or careless — it is precise and just.
💡 Ask yourself:
Have I assumed that everything will simply pass without accountability?

لَهُمْ (Lahum)

Meaning: For them.
This refers to the devils — but it also carries a hidden message for humanity:
Whoever follows the path of Shayṭān will also be included in “lahum.”
Punishment is not only for devils — it is for those who choose devilish ways.

عَذَابَ (ʿAdhāb)

Root: ع ذ ب
Lexical meaning: Intense suffering felt deeply within.
This is not merely a penalty —
it is the inevitable outcome.

السَّعِيرِ (As-Saʿīr)

Root: س ع ر
Lexical meaning: A blazing fire that feeds itself continuously.
Saʿīr is a fire whose intensity never diminishes.
💡 Ask yourself:
Am I nurturing a fire within — anger, jealousy, stubbornness?

Summary of the Verse

This verse teaches us that:
  • Allah grants beauty,
  • He provides protection,
  • And He clarifies the final outcome.
This is perfect Lordship (complete Rubūbiyyah).
 

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