They cry when they hear the name of the Prophet Muhammad (SAW), but they forget the pain he endured to teach them how to pray. They chant slogans of love, they decorate their cars and homes with his name, but when the Adhan calls, they roll over and go back to sleep. They wear pendants with his name, they write poetry and songs about him, but their lives are completely opposite to his. They shout “Ya Rasool Allah” in public, but forget to follow the Sunnah in private. They gather in crowds for Milad, but the mosques remain empty at Fajr. They say they love the Prophet, yet ignore the very foundation of his message—Salah. They love his miracles, but ignore his message. They read his Seerah like a storybook, but never take it as a guide. They quote his Hadith, but don’t live by his character. They post Islamic reminders on social media, but don’t remind their own soul to bow before Allah. The Prophet (SAW) cried for his Ummah in the darkness of the night, while we laugh with arrogance in the light of sin. He said, “My ummah, my ummah!” while bleeding in Ta’if, while starving in Makkah, while being mocked by his own people—and yet, we forget him while sitting in air-conditioned rooms, scrolling mindlessly, disobeying every word he left behind. He gave us his life, and we can’t give him five minutes for Salah? He taught us humility, but we walk with pride. He lived with simplicity, but we chase luxury. He loved children, but we yell at them. He forgave his enemies, but we can’t even forgive our own brothers. We complain about stress, depression, and emptiness—but we never look at the root: we left Allah, so peace left us. We abandoned prayer, so mercy abandoned us. The Prophet (SAW) said, “The coolness of my eyes is in prayer,” and today’s Muslim says, “I’m too tired to pray.” Allah said in the Qur’an, “Woe to those who pray but are heedless in their prayer” (Surah Ma’un), and we don’t even pray at all. Some haven’t touched a prayer mat in months but cry when they hear naats. Some wear Islamic jewelry, but their hands never rise in dua. Some say “My heart is clean,” but forget that a clean heart shows itself in action. They dress up for Eid, but never bowed on a regular day. They call themselves the lovers of the Prophet (SAW) but hate the beard, ignore the hijab, mock the Sunnah, and label practicing Muslims as extreme. And yet, they expect the Prophet’s intercession on the Day of Judgment. How? The Prophet ﷺ said, “Whoever abandons prayer has disbelieved” (Tirmidhi). Do we think love is in words only? Love shows in sacrifice, in obedience, in following footsteps even when it’s hard.
“The Prophet (SAW) gifted us Islam, yet we’ve treated it lightly. Let’s repay him by obeying Allah. He prayed, cried, and loved us before we existed. Let’s not just claim love for him but follow his path. Avoid facing him on Judgment Day empty-handed. Repent, revive, start today with one prayer, one sincere bow, one tear in sujood. Returning only takes a small step. The door to change is open; don’t miss it.”
Love isn’t in your Instagram bio, it’s in your character, in your salah, in your lifestyle. The Prophet (SAW) never missed prayer even in war. He never raised his voice, never lied, never broke a promise—and we do all three before lunch. He was mercy to the world, and we’re a burden to each other. We build masjids, but never enter them. We buy Qur’ans, but never open them. We name our children Muhammad, but never raise them with his manners. We blame the world for our problems, but we never look in the mirror. The world is drowning in darkness not because of non-Muslims, but because Muslims forgot who they are. Our youth chase fame and trends, copy celebrities, waste nights in sin, and complain they have no peace. They know songs by heart but don’t know Surah Ikhlas. They’ll follow influencers blindly, but not follow the Prophet (SAW)who gave everything for them. He fasted while hungry, prayed while bleeding, lived poor but rich in heart—and we, his Ummah, live full but empty. The Prophet (SAW) said, “On the Day of Judgment, some people will come with mountains of good deeds, but they will be turned into dust because they did not pray properly.” (Musnad Ahmad). So what will become of those who didn’t pray at all? Parents, too, are silent. They feed the body but starve the soul. They spend on fashion, phones, food, but don’t teach Qur’an. They celebrate birthdays, but not Bismillah. They send kids to school, but not to the masjid. Then they cry when their children grow up lost. This is the pain of today’s Ummah. The Prophet (SAW) left us the greatest gift—Islam—and we treated it like a burden. He cried for us, prayed for us, fasted for us, loved us before we even existed. Can’t we give him something back? Just one thing: obedience to Allah. That’s all he wanted for us. Let us not be the generation that claimed to love him, but didn’t follow him. Let us not stand in front of him on the Day of Judgment with empty hands and ashamed faces. Let us change, return, repent, revive. Start today. One prayer. One sincere bow. One tear in sujood. That’s all it takes to come back. The door is still open. Don’t die before entering it.
(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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