Qurbani is not just about slaughtering an animal. It is about slaughtering our ego, our greed, and our unhealthy love for this fake, material world. It reminds us of the true purpose of life—not comfort, not luxury, not showing off—but obedience to Allah, sacrifice for His sake, and compassion for His creation.
The story of Prophet Ibrahim (A.S.) and his son Ismail (A.S.) is not a fairy tale. It is a living lesson. When Allah told Ibrahim to sacrifice his son, he did not argue or delay. He trusted Allah blindly. Imagine the pain of a father holding a knife to his beloved child—yet he was ready, because Allah commanded it. And when both father and son submitted, Allah sent a ram an adult male sheep in place of Ismail. That moment is not just history—it is the soul of Islam. It teaches us that faith is not easy talk—it is painful action. Real Iman is when we are ready to give up anything for Allah. But look at us today. We live in a world drowning in materialism. We chase brands, not blessings. We are addicted to luxury, status, and fake lifestyles. Our Instagram is full of smiles, but our hearts are empty. We decorate our homes but ignore our souls. We upgrade our gadgets but downgrade our faith. Our attachments are strong—to cars, clothes, phones, bank balances—but our connection with Allah is weak. We fear losing money more than we fear losing salah. We say we love Allah, but we struggle to give a little meat in His name. We spend thousands on phones, weddings, parties—but complain when it’s time to buy an animal for Qurbani. We treat Qurbani like a burden, not a blessing. This is the disease of our generation: we want everything—but are ready to give nothing. Allah clearly says in the holy Qur’an: “It is not their meat or their blood that reaches Allah—but it is your taqwa (piety) that reaches Him.” (Surah Al-Hajj 22:37)This means: Qurbani is not about the animal—it’s about your intention, your sincerity, your heart. Are you doing it just to tick a box, or are you doing it to please Allah and clean your soul?Qurbani also teaches us generosity. Islam is not a selfish religion. When we divide the meat—one part for ourselves, one for relatives, one for the poor—we are reminded that our blessings are not just for us. In this cruel world, where rich people throw food in the dustbin and poor people die of hunger, Qurbani brings back humanity. It forces us to remember those who have nothing—not even meat once a year. It is shameful that some of us wear ten-thousand-rupee shoes, while a poor child nearby sleeps hungry.
“Qurbani is not just about animals. It’s about YOU. Your heart. Your habits. Your hidden sins. Your fake priorities. It is about asking yourself: What am I really sacrificing for Allah? Am I living for dunya—or preparing for akhirah? Am I helping the poor—or stepping over them? This is why Qurbani is more important than ever today. It teaches us what no degree, no phone, no fashion brand ever will: That the path to Allah is paved with blood, not gold. That happiness is not in having more—but in giving more. That real beauty is not in selfies—but in sincerity. That life is short—but sacrifice is eternal.”
Qurbani teaches us to break this arrogance—to look beyond ourselves—to feel the pain of others. The Prophet Muhammad (S.A.W.) said: “The best of people are those who benefit others.”He also said:“Whoever can afford a sacrifice but does not do it—let him not come near our prayer place” (Ibn Majah). This shows how serious Qurbani is. It is not a small sunnah—it is a powerful symbol of submission, a test of sincerity, a duty for every capable Muslim. Qurbani also teaches us to fight the nafs (ego). The act of sacrificing something valuable shows that we can control our desires. That we can give up comfort for something greater. That we can say “No” to the dunya and “Yes” to Allah. Every drop of blood that falls is a witness—it says: “This believer chose Allah over himself.” Yet in today’s fake world, we are doing the opposite. We are crushing the poor. We build luxury homes but pay workers peanuts. We hoard money but refuse to help our neighbours. We buy Qurbani animals for show—taking pictures, flaunting prices—forgetting that real sacrifice is hidden, humble, and heartfelt. Even our charity has become performance. Qurbani shouts in our ears: Wake up! Let go out from this fake world. Return to your Lord. Don’t be a slave to money. Be a servant of Allah. In conclusion, Qurbani is not just about animals. It’s about YOU. Your heart. Your habits. Your hidden sins. Your fake priorities. It is about asking yourself: What am I really sacrificing for Allah? Am I living for dunya—or preparing for akhirah? Am I helping the poor—or stepping over them? This is why Qurbani is more important than ever today. It teaches us what no degree, no phone, no fashion brand ever will: That the path to Allah is paved with blood, not gold. That happiness is not in having more—but in giving more. That real beauty is not in selfies—but in sincerity. That life is short—but sacrifice is eternal. Qurbani is love. Qurbani is pain. Qurbani is power. Qurbani is Islam. Let us revive its true meaning before it becomes just a forgotten ritual.
(The author a teacher by profession is a freelancer. The views, opinions and conclusions expressed in this article are those of the author and aren’t necessarily in accord with the views of “Kashmir Horizon”)
Dr. Aftab Jan
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