Silent Echoes: A Collection of Personal Reflections

[Tahira Fatima]

Two Minutes and 18 Seconds of Life​

Allah Almighty says:

“The angels and the Spirit (Jibreel) ascend to Him in a Day the measure of which is fifty thousand years.” (Surah Al-Ma‘ārij 70:4)

From the narrations, we learn that the Day of Judgment will span fifty thousand years. It will be a Day when the disbelievers will certainly face punishment — a punishment from the Lord of Majesty, and no power will be able to save them from it.
Today I was reflecting on something.
Our average lifespan is about 70 to 80 years (Allah knows best; this is only a general estimate).
The Day of Judgment will be fifty thousand years long.
If we compare the two, an 80-year life is only 0.16% of that Day.
And if we imagine those fifty thousand years compressed into just 24 hours — then our entire 80-year life would equal only:
2 minutes and 18 seconds.
That means in our “2 minutes and 18 seconds of life,” we are deciding whether our eternal home will be Paradise or Hell.
This simple comparison shook me deeply.
What am I earning in my 2 minutes and 18 seconds?

• Petty arguments — whose beginnings and endings I barely remember.
• Ego and stubbornness — crushing my own soul.
• Greed — which never ends, even if the whole world is gained.
• Envy — unable to tolerate someone else’s happiness.
• Deception — harming not others, but myself.
• Showing off — even my good deeds performed for display.

And what am I losing?

• Peace — which exists only in the remembrance of Allah.
• Time — which, once gone, never returns.
• Relationships — sacrificed at the altar of ego.
• My true purpose — the reason we were created:

“And I did not create jinn and mankind except to worship Me.” (Surah Adh-Dhāriyāt 51:56)

The real question is:
Am I turning these two minutes into an opportunity to earn Jannah —
or fuel for a fire of regret?
These verses reminded me today:
Every moment of this world is a test.
What has passed is a lesson.
What remains is an opportunity.
And the Day of Judgment — it is the Day of reward or justice.
May Allah grant us the ability to recognize the reality of our lives, to forgive small matters, to purify our hearts, and to understand the value of these two precious minutes.
Ameen.

 

[Tahira Fatima]

The Compass of Life​

A small pocket compass...
My husband carries one with him at all times — whether he is on duty or off. When he is working, I understand its importance. But when he is off duty? I often wonder why he still keeps it close.
Every time I notice it, I ask the same question.
And every time, his reply is unchanged:
“You don’t realize how important this small thing is.”
There is a story behind it.
He once told me, “During a military exercise, a few of us were assigned to survive in the desert for a week. The heat was relentless. Then suddenly, a violent sandstorm rose. It was so intense that with every few steps we took, our footprints disappeared behind us. We lost our direction. Days passed. When we were finally rescued, we were exhausted — our condition critical. From that day until today, I have never stopped carrying a compass.”
And I realized — our story is not so different.
Except our compass is the Qur’an.
Allah says in the Qur'an:

إِنَّ هَـٰذَا ٱلْقُرْءَانَ يَهْدِي لِلَّتِي هِيَ أَقْوَمُ
“Indeed, this Qur’an guides to that which is most upright.”

17:9

The Qur’an is our compass.
It directs us at every turn of life. It corrects our course. It warns us before we drift too far.
Yet, sadly, we often ignore its presence. The Qur’an calls out to us repeatedly — guiding, cautioning, illuminating — while we remain lost in heedlessness.
And then comes the Day — the Day of Resurrection — when its true worth will be fully realized.
In this world, if we set our compass aside, we can still pick it up again.
But in the Hereafter, losing direction means being lost forever.
The absence of a small compass once endangered lives in a desert for a few days.
And we?
We are traveling through the vast desert of life without holding fast to our compass. A sandstorm lasts hours or days — but the darkness of the Hereafter, if one is astray, is eternal.
On that Day, there will be no second opportunity. No recalibration. No reorientation.
There will be only the Qur’an — and what we did with it.
So I must ask myself:
Am I truly holding my compass?
Or have I placed it somewhere safe — but far from my hands?
O Allah, just as a traveler in the desert clings to his compass to avoid losing his way, grant us the ability to hold tightly to the Qur’an with our hearts and souls.
Protect us from the storms of heedlessness. Keep us firm upon the path of guidance. And before the Day arrives when there is no return, make us among those who understand Your Book, embrace it, and walk by it.
Āmīn, O Lord of all worlds.

 

[ahmadmuslim]

Thanks Fatima.