Reflections from Mufti Azeemuddin's Journey w/Dr. Ahmed Shariff | The Compass Ep #1
By Mufti Azeemuddin Ahmed | 2026-07-13T20:37:24.240906+00:00 | Topic: Knowledge
Opening & Purpose of the Program
Assalamu alaikum wa rahmatullahi wa barakatuh. Today we're going to speak with Mufti Azeemuddin inshallah, to try to benefit from the people that he's benefited from and the journeys that he's been on, the environments that he's been in. A lot of us have not been exposed to those experiences and we may not get the opportunity to.
So we're going to try to take this chance to benefit from him and get second-hand knowledge inshallah.
So as Dr. Ahmed Shariff and I were discussing earlier about tonight's inaugural program, the question that will be asked — and that he asked me — is: what's the purpose of starting a new program? Why do we have a Monday night program? And what exactly are we trying to achieve? And that's a very legitimate question that we need to address and answer.
Tuesday nights, alhamdulillah, I've had the opportunity of hosting the tafsir for a number of years, and during my travels abroad this summer, my elder brother Mufti bin Hajiuddin, alhamdulillah, was continuing the tafsir — and alhamdulillah, he's still doing so. We thought that that program is the avenue that the community and the students can benefit from his immense, deep knowledge of the Quran. We wanted to ensure that that avenue stays open, alhamdulillah, which wasn't there before and now opened up in the form of a Tuesday night tafsir that he's been conducting — and many are attending in person or online and benefiting tremendously from the knowledge that he's sharing, alhamdulillah.
At the same time, we wanted to continue to be able to address the issues that maybe I like to speak about in various gatherings, and we wanted an avenue for that. If you may remember, in Ramadan, we have a very good program in the nights during i'tikaf called the Candlelight Conversations — and many brothers and sisters attend online and come in person as well. So there was a big push from the community, and youth especially, and young brothers and sisters, to continue that afterwards. We actually did try that once — we had one session before, that was last year, on artificial intelligence, we had one session on Wednesday. But due to our own schedules, it was very hard for me to commit twice a week to do a program here for the community.
The great thing that I like about these conversations is that's exactly what it is — it's called a conversation. So instead of being a one-sided thing, my co-host, inshallah, hopefully for the long term, Dr. Ahmed Shariff can ask, and you all get an opportunity to also ask. So now we can discuss things that are relevant to the audience that's here. I may be thinking that this is most important, but you might be thinking, hey, actually I want your guidance or your opinion or your insight into something different. The fluidity of this type of setting is what makes it really unique, what makes it very attractive to a lot of us, and inshallah, hopefully becomes very beneficial as well.
Obviously, the topics will continue to change every week, and there will be times, mashallah, where we'll have the opportunity to listen from other people who are coming from different parts of the world — who are doing humanitarian missions, doing other things, some interesting guests out there that might not be scholars, subhanallah, but they have a lot to share. So inshallah, in the future we can have conversations about marriage, or parenthood, or current events — there's a lot of conflict right now, a lot of divisiveness.
The Purpose Behind the Journey to India
But what I wanted to ask you about was your more recent journey when you went to India. Where did the idea even come from? What sparked this thought to go to India?
I was speaking with someone yesterday who was sharing some input from a corporate background when running an organization. One of the things he mentioned was that when you are doing any type of — let's say in an Islamic context — khidmah of deen in a specific place, it's important for us to step away at times, to just kind of reground ourselves, recalibrate our compass, get out of the environment, get a breath of fresh air, and ask yourself some questions: Is this what I had set out to do? Is this what I want to continue doing? Do I see myself doing this for the next 40, 50 years? Do I need to make any adjustments or changes?
And I said, subhanAllah, that's exactly what I did this summer. My trip overseas really honestly served that very same purpose. Initially, if you may ask, was that the purpose? Yes, definitely that was a big purpose. Maybe not so much for the entire organization, but definitely for myself. That I felt like, okay, I'm in that age — and we are, mashallah, a month apart on our birthdays — we're at that age now where our children are taller than us, going through the teens, so many different issues that come about. You have to ask yourself: we're not getting any younger, am I doing what I need to do? Do I think of myself to have really achieved the goals I had during my more youthful years or not? And now as we start moving towards shuyukha, getting older, what direction do I want to choose?
Because when you're 20, 21, you're full of this vigor and excitement — not much experience — and shabab shu'batun min al-junoon, this is almost a form of insanity, because you want to do everything, you want to take over the world. And things simmer down as you get older, so you have to have this reassessment. And I think that's kind of where this ended up coming from.
The Sponge Analogy: Why Even Scholars Need Renewal
But I think if the average person sees you — you're a mufti, your whole job is teaching deen, your whole life revolves around the masjid — it wouldn't occur to them that you would need to take time away to do reflection, introspection, or work on yourself. Your whole life revolves around this.
The example I give to people is a sponge in our kitchen. The sponge is doing the dirty job of cleaning all the dishes — but subhanAllah, in the process of that, the sponge becomes the most dirty thing. And unless you put that sponge through a cleansing process, throw it in a dishwasher or somewhere else, literally the most stinking thing in your kitchen won't be a dish — it will be that sponge. Because it has accumulated the filth of all the dishes.
So this is the role of a scholar, or an imam, or a khadim and servant of the deen. Yes, that servant of the deen is always in the masjid serving the people. But every single interaction that you have, it's not a one-way street. Every interaction we have — if you're giving something, unknowingly you're taking something. If you're giving someone advice, that person is also giving off certain things to you. In the process of them speaking, sharing some things — believe it or not, just mixing and mingling with people, just like germs spread and diseases spread, most definitely spiritual diseases also spread. Simply connecting with people.
And that's why the Prophet ﷺ mentioned in a hadith:
(Sahih Muslim, Book 35, Hadith 6852)
"Indeed, my heart becomes cloudy at times, and indeed I seek forgiveness from Allah a hundred times a day." Allahu Akbar. The Prophet ﷺ is saying this — he is the most closest to Allah, upon whose heart the Quran was revealed. Allah says, if He were to reveal this Quran on the mountain, the mountain would become in smithereens. And that Quran is being revealed on the Prophet ﷺ — just imagine the intensity and the strength of that heart. Yet he says, due to mixing and mingling with the people, a Nabi's hands also get dirty. A Nabi's hands also get bloody.
So if a Nabi is saying his heart also gets cloudy by spending time with people — what does he do then? وَإِنِّي لَأَسْتَغْفِرُ اللهَ كُلَّ يَوْمٍ — indeed, I seek forgiveness from Allah every day. In one narration, a hundred times. In another narration, more than 70 times — and we know 70 is used for a large number.
So a Nabi — a sinless person — is seeking forgiveness from Allah. Something to think about. Allahu Akbar. How much istighfar should I be doing? How much istighfar should all of us be doing? And number two — how affected we're getting, even if you are doing 24/7 deeni work. Naturally, if someone is not always doing deeni work, is not always giving da'wah, most definitely his heart also, you can imagine, would need a lot of assistance and help.
Traveling for Self-Improvement: Is it Selfish?
Even the example you gave of that hadith — the Prophet isn't saying leave your house, leave your family, leave your kids. He's talking about doing istighfar. So it could almost be seen as selfish to leave your family behind, leave your children behind, leave all your responsibilities here, and go halfway across the world to work on yourself.
SubhanAllah, it's a good question. If we study the seerah of the Prophet ﷺ, a person who studies the seerah of the Prophet ﷺ and the seerah of the Sahaba will immediately realize one thing that was so beautiful — one scholar mentioned that there was no one in whom love was more complete than the Prophet ﷺ. Because he was complete in every sense. In his love for his wife, in his love for his kids, in his love for his uncles, he was also second to none.
On the other hand, a Prophet's love for his spouse or his children is unlike anything you and I have experienced. Yet you see the Prophets — including Ibrahim عليه السلام, including all the other Prophets as well — that they put their lives on the line for the benefit of their community, 24/7. Their concern was: how can my nation get salvation?
So these are two separate things, but they're packaged together. When you travel, you have to have a goal. When people say, "I'm going on vacation" — with hotel prices, ticket prices, family of four or five or six, it's not cheap at all, three or four thousand dollars — you have to have a goal. You can't just say, "I'm going sightseeing." There's got to be something beyond that.
And this is where the hadith of Abu Dawud comes in:
(Sunan Abu Dawud, Book 14, Hadith 2486)
The word siyaha means tourism. The tourism of my ummah is al-jihad fi sabilillah. Wherever we are, whenever we are going, there's no such thing as just "I'm going to look around and come back." Looking around does you no good. If you are going even into a natural area, then your goal is: I am going to sit with nature — which is some of the most pious creation of Allah that doesn't sin, and all day and all night is doing tasbih. Let me sit with a sinless tree. Let me sit in the company of a sinless stream. Let me sit in the company of a sinless blade of grass. And let me reflect upon Allah's greatness.
So that type of vacation is great — when you have a very specific purpose, and your goal is to allow that vacation to get you, at the end, closer to Allah. Not having missed your salah, not sleeping through your Fajr, not having eaten doubtful food, not having gone to places where your eyes were compromised. So first of all, every trip needs to have a very specific goal. And yes, bonding with your wife and kids is a 100% super important goal. But even that can only happen when you have deen with you. You don't ever think you can bond over haram. That bonding is shaytani bonding. Bonding happens on deen, bonding happens on sunnah in a proper manner.
Ghar Hira and the Concept of Tabattul
So subhanAllah, the Nabi ﷺ taught us that you have to work on yourself. And in the process of working on himself, what did he do for the first six months? He went to Ghar Hira. He would sit and reflect and make ibadah. That was a preparation before he received revelation.
So what does the Quran say?
Tabattul means completely cut yourself off. Allah asks us in Surah al-Muzzammil to do Qiyamul Layl and Tahajjud.
"Stand up the entire night — except a little. Half of it you can sleep, half of it you can pray. Or actually do a little bit more than half, two thirds. And recite the Quran slowly and nicely." And Allah talks about the Quran's weight.
"Indeed, performing salah at night is really powerful in squashing your nafs — that's one explanation — and it helps you improve your speech." Ajeeb. I'm sleeping, I'm doing Tahajjud at night — how does that affect my speech? It will put effectiveness in your da'wah. It will ensure that you don't speak wrong, that you won't lie — because you just cried at night in front of Allah. You know the one who exercises a lot, two hours in the gym — he's not going to sit there and eat a half dozen donuts, because he knows what it takes to lose what he gained. So the one who spent a night in Tahajjud is going to watch what he says.
But the key — why I mentioned that — was tabattul. Tabattul is disconnecting yourself from people. That's why Qiyamul Layl has an effect that nothing else has. The lights are off, everyone's sleeping, and you're in a corner of your bedroom — you can get a concentration at times in that corner of your bedroom that you can't get even in the Haram. Because that tabattul is there. And that tabattul should not just stay in Qiyamul Layl — it should stay in Fard Salah too. That means may Allah give all of us tawfiq — disconnecting ourselves from our phones before we pray. Ten minutes of Sunnah prayer — that's the mental preparation for Salah.
The Da'wah Perspective: Concern for One Another
The next concept is — what about the da'wah part? That we are responsible for calling people. We have to look out for each other. If I'm falling asleep and you don't tap me, what's going to happen? I'm driving. Similarly, if you're driving and I say, "MashAllah, he's been working so hard all day, let him sleep" — what's going to happen? We're going to have a major problem. My point is we have to love one another. And that's where the da'wah perspective comes in.
Today a father finds it difficult to wake up his son for salah. Brother, how many kids do you have at home? Four. What are they doing right now? "I don't know. I gotta do my Manzil, I gotta read my Yasin, I gotta read my Ishraq." But you've got kids sleeping at home. "Yeah, man, they're 18 years old. They're big enough." So now we've just kind of written off these things. I ask actually — this is real answers I get — "Brother, he's 18 years old now, he's an adult. So I'm not responsible." Like, oh yeah, good luck trying that with Allah tomorrow. Your job and my job is to continuously have to try — with hikmah and wisdom.
What Made This Trip Different
Okay, but you've gone on trips — over the past year you went to Malawi, you went to South Africa, you went to England, you went for Umrah, you volunteered, I saw you feeding people. How is this trip any different? Because even in those trips you're cutting yourself off, you're taking time for introspection, you're volunteering, you're helping people. What was the purpose and how was it different for this trip?
So you've got two things. One is cut yourself off, focus on yourself. Number two was working and helping people — concern for the Ummah. This trip was very unique because at every single step you are constantly trying to ensure you're following the footsteps of the Prophet ﷺ. It's this conscientiousness. Do not step into the masjid unless you're doing it in a Sunnah method. Make sure you don't use the restroom unless you're doing it in a Sunnah method. Make sure before you do your wudu, you're thinking in your mind all the Sunnahs that are done.
The culture is such — the effort of da'wah and tabligh, they're constantly 24/7 emphasizing whatever you do has got to be done in the manner Rasulullah ﷺ did it. So before you sit down to eat — you're hungry, you've got a lot of good things — make sure first we review all the etiquettes of Sunnah. What are the etiquettes of eating? Before you're so tired you'll knock out, the Amir will say, "Please wait" — right? You worked so hard, you're knocked out. He'll talk to you. "First we've got to go over the Sunnah method of sleeping." Continuous reminding of how did Rasulullah ﷺ eat, sleep, drink, feed people, talk to people? How did he pray his salah? How did he greet people? How did he welcome people? How did he spend his night? How did he spend his day?
And then — what was the Sunnah of the heart? What is the Sunnah of the beard, the Sunnah of covering the head? What is the Sunnah of the heart? A heart that is so focused and drowning in concern for the Ummah of Rasulullah ﷺ. He loved his Ummah more than anything else. It was not long duas just for his grandkids or daughters — it was about the Ummah, Ummah, Ummah, Ummah. That experience you honestly don't get elsewhere.
Reflections from Madinah and the Lesson of Mu'adh
Because after my trip to India I went for Umrah too — short. And as I was sitting there reading in Masjid an-Nabawi, you know what I told myself? "Bro, this is easy." Masjid an-Nabawi — luxury. AC. The most plushest carpet. Continuously being cleansed. There's not a single ant moving around. And so this beautiful palace — you just sit there, look at the roof, look at the chandelier, look at the green dome in front of you. It's so enjoyable. You pick up and read another juz. Then you sit and just look at the dome for another five minutes. Then you stand up for salah. Then you send a thousand salawat an-Nabawi. And then you just don't even leave. And when you get out, you're like, "Allahu Akbar, I'm in Medina."
Honestly, this was my reflection — bro, this is easy. This is child's play. You put me in the masjid for a whole day, I can read a Quran inshallah in one sitting. But compared to where I came from and what was going on there — that's something else.
And then I understood how hard it must have been. The Nabi ﷺ is in his resting place. Just imagine — you cry thinking that the Prophet ﷺ was walking around. He could have actually greeted me after Asr. He could have looked at me, given me a hug. Now, to leave that blood and flesh of Rasulullah ﷺ, his blessed body in Medina, and then to go out — the Nabi ﷺ just sends you. "Go to this expedition. Go give da'wah here." Ya Rasulullah, there is nothing in the world I want more than your company. But the Prophet ﷺ says — it's easy to stay in my company. You can do dhikr like no tomorrow, ibadah like no tomorrow. But guess what? We're gonna spend time with each other in Jannah. Right now — go.
Every time I leave Medina, I think about Mu'adh. The Prophet ﷺ said to him:
(Sunan Abu Dawud, Book 2, Hadith 1522; also Musnad Ahmad)
"I swear by Allah, most definitely I love you, O Mu'adh." Imagine the Prophet ﷺ using these words. Allahu Akbar. And then he says — "Mu'adh, you've got to go to Yemen. Go." Now you're leaving after 30 days — you're leaving your wife, you're leaving your kids. Forget wife and kids. You're leaving Rasulullah ﷺ. If you don't love Rasulullah more than your wife or kids, there's something really wrong with their iman. There's nothing closer to us, should be closer to us, than the Prophet ﷺ. And he's saying — go. How long? Just go. There's no return ticket here.
And the Nabi's ﷺ love for him was such that he walked Mu'adh outside of Medina, all the way to the area where people would bid farewell to their guests. Then Rasulullah ﷺ wants to give him some parting advice. But he's so emotional himself — he says, if I look at Mu'adh, I can't control myself. So he turns his back towards Mu'adh, looks at Medina, and begins to speak to him. He says, "Mu'adh, I'm sending you out to Yemen. Make sure you give them da'wah and invite them towards the deen." He gives him advice on how to deal with issues: first look towards the Book of Allah, then the Sunnah of the Prophet ﷺ.
But then he mentions something which was honestly the most painful thing anyone could think of. He says:
(Musnad Ahmad, Hadith 21606)
"When you come back, very likely you will pass by this masjid of mine and my grave — I am more than likely going to be gone." He's actually letting him know that this is their last meeting. And remember, he's already told him, "Wallahi, I love you." Imagine how Mu'adh must be feeling at that time. But that's why he didn't look at him — he looked the other way. And he said, "When you come back, I'm not going to be there. You're going to see my grave. You're going to see my masjid. You're going to see my house — but you're not going to see me."
Then he consoles him, saying that the people who will be closest to him on the Day of Judgment are not necessarily the ones who were sitting next to him — they're going to be the ones who have taqwa, حَيْثُ كَانُوا أَيْنَ مَا كَانُوا, wherever they may be. The people of taqwa. The people who did the work of the Prophet ﷺ. The message of connecting people to Allah — if you do that and I never see you again, don't worry. You're going to be closest to me on the Day of Judgment.
The Sacrifice of Da'wah Work
So I think about this when I was in the area where I was in India traveling. And it's — I'm not going to mince my words — it's not easy, most definitely. You actually went through a lot of difficulty when you were 16, is that correct? Two months in Pakistan — twice. And you almost died from GI upset. That was when you had to go into the fields up in the mountains, dig a hole, and that's where you do your business. He's a 16-year-old kid. So you go down the mountain, you pump the water into a bucket from the well, then you carry the bucket up the mountain, then you dig a hole inside the mountain, surround yourself with your lungi, do your business, and keep going. The lungi is the sunnah garment of Rasulullah ﷺ. Allahu Akbar.
Now, that type of sacrifice — if you paid someone $5,000, they wouldn't do this. Why would you do it for free? But when you hand out food to poor people, they don't run away from you — they come running towards you. They love you because you're handing out food for them. When you do this da'wah work, because people are so far away from the deen, they don't realize you're trying to teach them the kalimah, trying to get them connected to the masjid. They think, "This guy is ruining my status quo. I'm living my life of ghafla — heedlessness. Bro, let me be. Why are you coming and saying come and pray?"
So instead of giving you a big hug — you're a 16-year-old who came from America, from a luxurious, suburban, upper-middle-class life, come all the way to a tiny village in Pakistan — many times people will actually slam the door in your face, say hurtful things, give you a run-around. And when they do that, when you get hurt emotionally, you will come to the masjid and you'll break down crying. And you'll start thinking — Rasulullah ﷺ did this every hour of every day for his whole life.
The Nabi ﷺ did not give long bayans. If you check the khutbahs of the Prophet ﷺ, even the Farewell Khutbah fits on one page. The Prophet ﷺ did not give long speeches — very short. But what the Prophet ﷺ did was — if you came, he would sit down with you for two hours, an hour, half an hour. Whoever you are, rich or poor, famous or not — his concern was: I want to make sure you go to paradise and not go to Jahannam.
So when you go through these footsteps — going to people, inviting them to the masjid, inviting them to Allah — it breaks your ego. Because it's not fun. No rose petals are being thrown at you. A lot of times people are actually very disrespectful, say very hurtful things — and they don't even understand that you're there to benefit them. They're also giving you a run-around at 110 degrees. You remember Allah at that time and you're like, okay, this is what you call the Sunnah of the Prophet ﷺ, the work of the prophets. And you come back to the masjid, you take his name, you make dua for him — and you cry. You will cry in a manner that you probably never cried in the Haram.
No pain, no gain. If you built this table by hand and it took you two months, and someone came and broke it — how would you feel? Compared to ordering it online for $50? Two different things. The deen — when is the last time you can say I sweated for Islam? Not just for praying my own salah, but so that other Muslims can become better Muslims and non-Muslims can become Muslims? When you start putting in that effort, and then you see someone neglecting the sunnah, I promise you it will feel like you're being stabbed in the heart. Because you begin to regard Islam as your personal responsibility.
Crying for Islam, Not Just for Muslims
I remember in South Africa, one of the bayans a long time ago, a scholar said: "If you want Allah's help to come, you cannot just cry for Muslims. We need people to cry for Islam." That's very deep. Ask yourself — when was the last time any one of us can say I shed tears just for Islam? It's not about some Muslim being killed or having died. How many times have you said, "Ya Allah, I'm going to cry because of how empty our masajid are. I'm going to cry because of how absolutely haram our weddings have become. I want to cry because of the amount of Muslims who are consuming haram or consuming riba." To sit there and cry for that — that's what I think is the greatest gift a person can get.
Those are some lofty ideals, right? The way many of us are — that sounds pretty unachievable. Many of us spiritually are just not even close to that. But you know the thing is — it's like if you tell someone who is extremely unhealthy, with the worst eating habits: just come with me for one hour of playing ball or going to the gym. When a person, within the first hour of working out, all of a sudden feels disgusted from that other lifestyle — "that's disgusting, man, I'm not going back to that." So it seems unachievable and lofty because we are neck-deep in what you're saying, but as soon as you get out of that environment within the first couple of days, you'll start realizing — no, this is very achievable.
A Day in the Life: Schedule and Environment
So walk us through a day — what was it like, what was your schedule?
A lot of people were saying, "Brother, if you're going to go in da'wah and jama'at, why don't you do it in America?" And I said, "No, I actually want to go overseas." "But it's easier here — you speak English, people can benefit from you a lot." But this is not about benefiting people only — this is about benefiting myself first. Then inshallah, the process of benefiting other people. Traveling abroad most definitely added a lot more sacrifice.
We're always looking for comfort and we think somehow comfort is like the gold standard. But we learned the opposite. You know who Ben Johnson is? He's a coach right now who in his first major press conference looked directly at his players and said, "Become comfortable with being uncomfortable — because we're going to go through it. I'm going to put you through it. We're going to test you, we're going to work you." That's essentially what you're talking about. And every single college student here who has any aspirations to go into a specific professional field — you have gone through discomfort. Our parents just to get here went through untold, unbelievable levels of discomfort. So for the dunya, discomfort is completely cherished and understood. But for the deen, all of a sudden it's different — like, everything's got to be microwaveable, drive-through, easy.
Discomfort itself is not the goal — it's the means to the end. The discomfort that comes specifically for Islam's spreading and for the deen is what is required.
So going into it — first of all, just entering and leaving America, going anywhere else that has a different outlet, you can't charge your phone. Then you don't get your foods just anytime. Going to Europe, you have a specific cereal you're used to eating — you don't get that. That itself is mujahada right there. But we spent time in villages. In those villages there were no paved roads at all — all mud. And there had been monsoon rains — it had never rained in that region like that for 30 years. So it was flooded, and even to just walk was difficult. Open sewage, and of course for young American kids, not having a nice marble shower with four jets, not having your seven different types of shampoo and conditioner — that's a big sacrifice. Not only to squat, but just a toilet. No light. Flies everywhere, mosquitoes.
I went towards the monsoon season, so at least the heat was manageable — if 100 degrees is more manageable than 120. Then electricity comes and goes. Obviously no ACs. You have something called a cooler — it's this big cube with a fan running on it and water dripping from three sides, supposed to kind of moisturize the air. Many times it wasn't working or they didn't put water in it. So it's just hot air. And then the weird thing is — I'm the only guy who feels hot. The rest of the people are like, "Yaar, we took out the blankets last night." And I'm like, "You're serious?" They think this is completely normal.
If you have to pray in an enclosed masjid with a low roof — you're praying Dhuhr salah — la ilaha illallah — when you finish Dhuhr salah, you are drenched. You've got to finish your dhikr and then you pray outside. The guys next to you are in exactly your state, but mashallah they're doing their tasbih looking at you like, "Why are you becoming uncomfortable? What's wrong with you, bro? Relax." Our ruh is coming out, but mashallah they're relaxed.
And food — they don't put a little pepper in eggs, they put a few eggs inside the pepper. I have never eaten anything this spicy. Everything is filled with spices. And they don't allow you to cook your own food. They will say, "We will push you out of the village if you cook food here" — and mashallah, that's a level of ikram and hospitality. "You came from America, you're in the path of Allah, you're going to let you cook? Absolutely not." So you eat whatever they eat. If you can't eat it, mashallah — they brought some cucumbers, eat cucumbers.
Over there, there are no restaurants — not a single restaurant in the entire area. Because who eats out? No one eats out. Everyone eats at home, and you feed the guest. How can a guest eat out? Unacceptable. But the benefit of that was no processed food. You can eat six meals there and you won't get obese — I didn't see any obese people, period. Because the food is pure, no additives. Everything is fresh — the milk, the cheese, the cream from the buffalo, the meat, the roti made from the grains they grow right behind. And even for fuel — they don't have money for natural gas — they take the dung of the buffalo, dry it, and use it as fuel. SubhanAllah. It's like an amazing natural recycling process. From one animal, how much Allah has allowed — Allah has put them for your khidmah.
Just getting out of your comfort zone is huge. Not lowering the standard of what you're accustomed to for an extended period of time — after one week, you just get used to everything. You realize: I don't need to live the lifestyle I am. I don't need to have six pairs of shoes. You can actually have one pair of shoes and one pair of slippers and move on. Three pairs of clothes — you wear one, have one extra, wash the other. Minimalist living. And after one week you're accustomed to it. When you're tired, the clothes you didn't use become your pillow, and you're knocking out better than you would on a $4,000 water bed — because you're tired, and subhanAllah, as Mawlana Taj Mahal mentioned to us when we were studying: "The body is like a rubber band. The more you stretch it, the more it can get stretched. And if you let it go, it just crumbles up into a tiny little thing."
Because of the halal food and because of the natural lifestyle — your thoughts become clean. I very distinctly noticed that my thoughts had never been so calm and pure as they were over there. You have to feel it, you have to go through it to experience it. Because just coming to the masjid — how many things our eyes fell upon, how many billboards, how many things on your phone. Even if a person is seeing something that is not allowed while praying salah — that has most definitely an effect on your mind. When you stay away from zina of the eye in any form, and you're eating pure halal food, mashallah the thoughts become very pure.
The Daily Schedule
Okay, so you wake up for Tahajjud. You do your dhikr, your dua, and it's nice to see people crying around you — your fellow comrades sitting in different corners, everyone making their dua, crying, doing their muraqabah. Then the Fajr time starts, adhan is given, and all the way till Fajr everyone is doing tilawah. Then you have Fajr salah. After Fajr salah is your talk and reminder. Then the jawla starts right after Fajr — you start going out to visit homes in the morning.
The beautiful thing is you end up helping people who didn't pray Fajr get them to pray Fajr. You can't do that over here, but there you actually can go and say, "Let's go to the masjid, I'll help you do wudu, let's pray" — and after he prays, say a few words, encourage him, and he goes back to his store. Just being able to actively bring people to the masjid like that — who haven't prayed — that's awesome.
Many times the brothers would also say, "Okay, we want to go visit a sick person, go visit a sick scholar, go visit a family that's going through difficulty." And what do you see when you go to the house? People who are in mud huts. The entire home is equivalent to some of the master bathrooms we have in our communities. The floor is mud — no carpet, no tiles. And yet they will not let you leave without giving you a cup of tea, without trying to give you some breakfast. "No, we have breakfast in the masjid." "No, no — how is it possible you came to my home? How can I let you go empty-handed?"
This is where you melt. You realize — subhanAllah, I have a freezer upstairs, a freezer downstairs, a freezer in the garage, three fridges, pantries — I could feed the whole community for a week. And a person in that mud hut with no fridge is insisting on hosting you. When is the last time I hosted a guest spontaneously? Spontaneous hospitality just doesn't exist for us anymore.
My ustadh, Mawlana Mona Choksi sahib, said something beautiful — and maybe he was quoting his teacher: "The refrigerator has made us stingy." Because in the old times, whatever you had, you ate, and the leftover would go bad — so you immediately gave it to your neighbor or someone. The fridge says, "No, tomorrow." Then the freezer says, "Not even tomorrow — next year." He said after one Eid, he went to a brother's home, and the brother said, "I have fresh qurbani gosht." And my ustadh said, "We just finished Eid 20 minutes ago — where did you go pray Eid that you already have qurbani done?" He said, "This is last year's qurbani." Last year's qurbani meat being served on the day of Eid, one year later. This is the evil of what the freezer has done — the freezer has made us stingy. Isn't that deep? I hope you are writing this in your mind.
So you go outside, you come back, you have breakfast. Then you decide what you're going to do for the whole day. You get rest for about an hour to an hour and a half. Then you have ta'lim — you sit down, wake up around 10 o'clock, and read through the hadith of the Prophet ﷺ. The goal is not "I already know this." The goal is: to what degree have I practiced this hadith? That's the intention.
Doesn't that become redundant for someone who already knows all the hadith and has read them like 500 times? It's like every time we read Surah al-Fatiha, every time we repeat our adhkar — when you're listening to the hadith, you're constantly thinking: for example, let's just say the hadith — whoever performs the congregational salah with takbiratul ula' for 40 days, Allah gives him salvation from hellfire and protection from hypocrisy. Now you heard it, but then you ask yourself — how many days have I prayed with takbiratul ula'? And it just makes you realize: what's the point of me listening if I'm not practicing? When we listen, many times we listen with the intention of adding to our knowledge. But that's not the point. The point is — to what degree are you practicing?
After that, for about two hours, you have early lunch — 12 o'clock, breakfast is very light, usually chai and biscuits. Lunch is 12 o'clock, and then after Dhuhr we have a talk. Then the beautiful thing is — all the people who came for salah, you tell them to spend some time. You make circles: one halaqa focused on teaching tajweed, one halaqa focused on teaching masa'il of deen — whether masa'il of wudu, tahara, ghusl. And I would talk about social issues — how to treat your kids, how to treat your wife, which I think was very necessary there.
I was with a group of ulama — these were all scholars spending one year in the path of Allah, who joined me for one 30-day trip. They were all mashallah top-notch scholars, alhamdulillah, American-born and raised. And mashallah, Riaz bhai was there with me as well — which actually gave me a lot, a lot of hope. To see American boys of 2025 putting themselves through this level of sacrifice for the Ummah of Rasulullah ﷺ — honestly, you feel hopeful for the future of this country. These are young men who have destroyed their ego, completely, and are ready to rough it and tough it and go through anything for the sake of Allah. They got sick — no one's complaining. "You gonna call your parents?" "Of course not. Why should I worry my parents? We're in the path of Allah. What happens here, stays here." Because we're at a degree of iman that we can handle difficulty. Those at home are not in the path of Allah with us — they cannot handle things we're going through.
So when it comes to before we go to bed, we have Hayatus Sahaba — the Amir would choose all the virtues of getting sick in the path of Allah. When you hear that, you're like, "Ya Allah, I don't want to be asking for this — but I envy all these other guys who are sick." You follow what I'm saying? Whatever condition you're going through, reflect on the life of Rasulullah ﷺ and the life of Sahaba. As soon as you read that hadith, all of a sudden — even though your fever may still be present — it's not a big deal anymore.
So after Dhuhr we sit with these circles — halaqa of tajweed, halaqa of masa'il and fiqh, halaqa of iman — speaking about the greatness of Allah. That lasts for as long as the people stick around. Then we do another 1.5 to 2 hours of ta'lim — 4 hours a day total. Before Asr, you rest for 30–40 minutes. After Asr, we go over the etiquettes of jawla, then go out for jawla till Maghrib. After Maghrib, you have your main talk of the day. Then as soon as the talk finishes, you sit in circles again speaking about the greatness of Allah to whoever is sitting there. Then dinner before Isha. After Isha, go out to the houses again — at night there's no limit to how late you come back. Some days come back at 12, some days 12:30, depending on how far you're going, all by foot, with no lights, just your flashlight, going to far away places, meeting different people, talking to people. Then before bed, whoever is present reads Hayatus Sahaba, etiquettes of sleeping, and you go to sleep. That's your basic schedule. Very busy day.
One of the coolest ta'lims I ever saw was with the Kyrgyz Jama'at from Kyrgyzstan. The Amir would read the hadith twice, then he would say, "Abdurrahman — who narrated the hadith?" If Abdurrahman got it wrong — 20 push-ups. Then he would say, "Abdullah — which kitab was it in?" "Sahih Muslim." "No." "Sahih Bukhari." "No." 20 push-ups. And then he would make somebody repeat the hadith back — every time you messed up, 20 push-ups. And in between they would wrestle, mashallah.
Inspiring Characters Along the Way
Every jama'at that I've seen has some special characters who are especially close to Allah. You don't really see it coming. They're not always scholars — a lot of times they're lay people. Did you meet anyone who had an impact on you, or did anyone say anything that really hit you?
A lot of people. Honestly, I actually felt the weakest of everyone just sitting in the company of everyone else. We had a revert who had accepted Islam in a small town in Texas with no masjid — he was in his four months, a white American Caucasian brother. You can imagine how hard everything was for him. But even in his free time, he would take Muntakhab Ahadith and would be memorizing hadith. Every free time he'd get, he would just — ajeeb, man, like he only became Muslim a little while ago, no masjid, no madrasa in his area. Whatever he learned, he learned in the path of Allah. The purity of these people, the innocence of these people — they genuinely love Allah, and whatever they read, they want to practice immediately. We are blessed to have many reverts, mashallah, in our one-year program this year, and they remind me of people like him — they genuinely want to follow the deen. I was inspired by that.
We also had a 15-year-old — a father and three kids, 18, 17, and 15 — on their second four months. This 15-year-old, he was a chubby little kid with chubby cheeks. But the way he would give da'wah — honestly, adults can't speak like that. The way he would speak individually, the way he would convince people and speak about the greatness of Allah — I would just sit and be like, wow, he's 15 years old. I challenge us to find a 60-year-old who can speak like this. He didn't speak Urdu, but he would speak in English and people would translate for him, or he picked up a few Urdu words. That was powerful.
Another thing — the other scholars with me. There's no such thing as getting tired with them. They go in 105, 110-degree heat for 2–3 hours, they come back, they just lie down catching their breath — someone enters the masjid, and like a jack-in-the-box: "Assalamu alaikum! How are you, everything okay? Let me start speaking to him, giving him da'wah." How do you do that? It's an amazing spiritual energy that would give me a sense of feeling very weak — mashallah, their spiritual energy is so strong it keeps them running.
The Old Man and the Du'a
Of course, we met a lot of senior ulama — 100-plus-year-old scholars. In one place, there was an elder who would come an hour to an hour and a half before Fajr and make Tahajjud. By the way, in Mewat — the area where I was — every masjid, every night, people come for Tahajjud. It's completely standard. So this elder came and prayed his Tahajjud. The next morning, before I left, he came and greeted me and started speaking about Allah — and the way he started speaking about Allah, I was like, this guy truly loves Allah. Imagine how much Allah loves him.
So I looked at him and I said, "Please make dua that Allah changes my heart." I just felt that — I was reading Quran and when I just looked at him, I'm like, I've got to stop reading Quran and I've got to talk to him. So he came to me, I stood up, I said, "Uncle, babaji, hazrat — please make dua for me, Allah changes my heart." He turns around, grabs a tasbih, sits down, faces the Qibla, and then he busts out crying — so loud that the sleeping people woke up. This is not at night, this is around 10am. Almost like a water faucet breaking, so loud. I'm looking — what's going on? Seven, eight minutes, he cried like I have never heard before. Then he wiped his face, put the tasbih back, came to me, and said: "It's done. I asked Allah. Khalas."
I'm like — what? He said, "I asked Allah to give you glad tidings." And I am sitting there, so moved. Number one — the love he has for Allah. Number two — the way he cried, like a switch being turned on. On the 27th night in front of the Ka'ba, we can't cry like this after even building up momentum for half an hour. How do you do this? And then number three — the conviction he has that his dua most definitely got accepted. He came to me and said, "It's done." That really made me feel like — okay, this is where we need to be focusing. We've got to focus on our heart. How many of us can say we have this type of relationship with Allah?
Whatever you make effort on, you'll get it. Simple as that. We don't even think that this is something to make effort on — and that's why we have this so-called hollow heart. We say, "Brother, I'm very sinful, I'm very weak" — we're trying to get people's pity. Honestly, no one needs to pity me or you. We should shame ourselves and say: "I didn't make an effort. That's why I'm in this situation." If your mouth is smelling — go brush your teeth, do miswak. If your lawn is messed up — go cut your lawn. So when a person says, "My heart is so messed up, I'm so distant from Allah" — get up and do something about it.
Final Advice: First Steps for the Average Person
So my final question as we wrap up — what do we do for the average person who's working and is stuck in this cycle? It seems difficult to break. What are some of the first steps we can start taking?
First step — be sincere with Allah. One is the quick in-and-out dua where you wipe your face and run. Actually, we don't make dua the way people should. Right after salah, everyone runs. Every masjid empties out. Just look at Jumu'ah — it's like, brother, there's a parking lot jam, you're not going anywhere, and you're not going to find your shoes just yet. Wait and make dua for two, three minutes.
So number one — make proper dua. And in that dua, let's not just ask Allah for Jannah only, or just رَبَّنَا آتِنَا فِي الدُّنْيَا حَسَنَةً. I want to say: debase yourself in front of Allah. Belittle yourself in front of Allah. I found this to be the most powerful thing. We're not supposed to debase ourselves in front of creation — you're supposed to be humble but not debasing yourself. But in front of Allah, Allah says:
"O people, you are in need of Allah, and Allah is the Free of need, the Praiseworthy." Allah is the most 'Aziz, we are the most zalil. He is the most Ghani, we are the most faqir. Spend many minutes speaking to Allah, saying: "Ya Allah, I am your absolutely useless, sinful, dirty creation. You made me beautiful, but I have made myself intentionally filthy by committing so many sins. You continue to shower upon me blessings and I continue to turn my back. I can't even say I prayed two raka'at salah in my entire life the way Rasulullah ﷺ did. I can't say I prayed two raka'at salah from beginning to end with 100% concentration. I can't say I performed a wudu for two raka'at salah using exactly the same amount of water the Prophet ﷺ did, with the full focus that the Prophet ﷺ did wudu with." So what am I haughty and arrogant about?
Belittle yourself in front of Allah for as long as you can, every day in dua — like the Nabi ﷺ did. And which dua is this? One of my favorite duas. It's after the Fath Makkah — the conquest of Makkah, the highest stage, the epic moment of Rasulullah's ﷺ life. And he says:
"O Allah, You hear my speech and You see my situation. Nothing of my affairs is hidden from You. I am the one in the most difficult situation — who is needy, who is begging for help, who is shaking and trembling, who is scared, who is a sinner who acknowledges his own sins. I ask You the way a beggar begs, and I call out to You the way a scared blind man calls out for help — the supplication of the man whose neck is bent before You, whose tears are flowing down his cheeks before You, whose whole body is humbling itself before You, whose nose is being pushed against the soil of the ground. O Allah, do not make me deprived in this dua of mine — and please be merciful and kind with me."
Whose dua is this? Rasulullah's ﷺ dua. When? At the conquest of Makkah. This is his dua. What have we done in our lives to not make a dua like this? SubhanAllah.
Number two — ask Allah for transformation. Ya Allah, just do something to my heart. Look at me with one glance of mercy — khalas. The path is paved in front of me and I begin my change. Change doesn't happen overnight, but it starts. It has to be that one night where you present your case to Allah and Allah accepts it. And once that dua gets accepted, everything will start falling into place.
There's no easy fix. But I'll tell you what's very easy — that's why I love these types of da'wah trips. If you're inspired, you don't have to have a lot of money. You don't have to have any money. You don't have to be eloquent. You don't have to have anything. You just have to say: you know what, I don't have time, but I'm going to make time, because I believe this is relevant to me as well. I also want to work on my heart.
So alhamdulillah, we have this beautiful madrasa here — hundreds of students studying from all around the country, 7:30am till 7:30pm, five and a half days a week. But still on the weekends, a lot of them go out for 12–15 hours in khuruj and da'wah to local masajid. This weekend — from this Thursday, as soon as class gets out, around 3:15–3:45, on Asr time — we will be 15 groups of Dar al-Salam male students, already made with their teachers, going to 15 different masajid inshallah from Thursday Asr till about Sunday 9am–10am. So I encourage you — if you want to taste this, it's not like overseas. You won't be eating that hot food, you won't have to worry about the toilets. But nonetheless it will give you a nice good taste of a little bit of what I'm speaking about.
Normal people can join — inshallah, just connect with any one of us, Mawlana Salman or myself or brother Wasim, or just whoever is leading the salah. Say, "Hey, I want to go out for a couple days with my son." Do you have to go for the whole time, Thursday to Sunday? No, you don't have to. You can go for as many hours as you want. You want to just come and spend one night, get up for Tahajjud, pray, and leave after that — no problem. It's all local. The only furthest distance is Peoria/Bloomington. The rest are all Chicagoland — IFN, Bolingbrook, wherever, Divan area, Aurora. All drivable distances. I would encourage the dads here — bring your sons. And if you want to say, "Man, I'm tired of trying to tell my son to do this and it's not happening" — come and you'll get motivated inshallah.
Jazakallah khairan. We will end the live stream here, but those who are present, I want to get an opportunity — if there's anything you all want to ask — to appreciate the fact that you came here in person. I want to give an opportunity for the brothers here in person to ask anything that they want to inshallah.
Jazakallah khair. Assalamu alaikum wa rahmatullahi wa barakatuh.