The Last Ten Nights Are Here Before diving into the final ayah of Surah Al-Muzzammil, a timely reminder — tonight is the 23rd night of Ramadan. The last ten nights are upon us, and the Prophet ﷺ told us to hunt for Laylatul Qadr in these nights, especially the odd ones. Tonight is one of them. So what should fill these nights? Extra raka’at. Extra Quran. Extra dhikr. And the best du’a for this occasion comes to us through Sayyidatuna Aisha (رضي الله عنها), who asked the Prophet ﷺ: if I encounter the Night of Al-Qadr, what should I say? He replied: “Allahumma innaka ‘afuwwun tuhibbul ‘afwa fa’fu ‘anni” — “O Allah, You are the Most Pardoning and You love to pardon, so pardon me.” Now, there’s an important distinction here between ‘afw and ghafar. When we say astaghfirullah and ask for Allah’s forgiveness (ghafar), the record of the sin remains — but the punishment is cancelled. The deed is still in the books on the Day of Mahshar, but Allah will not punish us for it. Al-’Afw is something else entirely. It is when the record is expunged altogether. Wiped clean. As if the sin never happened. This is why the Prophet ﷺ said that whoever fasts sincerely and prays during the nights of Ramadan — and catches Laylatul Qadr — will have all their past sins forgiven. They exit Ramadan like the day they were born. No record of sins whatsoever. It’s just a few nights. Sleep a little less. Yes, there will be tiredness — that’s okay. This is our training. Don’t miss a night that is greater than a thousand months, greater than 83 years of worship. Grounded is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. Where We Left Off — The Arc of Surah Al-Muzzammil The surah opened with a command: stand up at night, pray, and recite the Quran. Why? Because the day is full of heavy tasks — spreading truth, standing for justice, enduring hardship — and the strength to carry all of that comes from the spiritual work done at night. Reading about Jannah motivates. Reading about Jahannam sobers. The connection to Allah realigns everything. Then came the warning through the story of Fir’aun — richer, stronger, more powerful than the Quraysh, yet destroyed in an instant when he rejected Prophet Musa. Then the terrifying imagery of Yawmul Qiyamah: skies torn apart, children’s hair turning white from sheer terror. And finally, the choice: believe and take the prophetic path, or reject and face the consequences. Every choice carries a consequence. Now the surah circles back to where it began — Qiyamul Layl — but this time with something remarkable: mercy. Allah Knows Our Weakness The original command was demanding. Stand up most of the night — two-thirds, or at least half, or at the very minimum a third. The Prophet ﷺ did this every single night, without exception, even while travelling, even during battle. But Allah knew that the rest of the ummah would struggle. Allah says: “Indeed, your Lord knows that you stand less than two-thirds of the night, sometimes half, sometimes even less than a third — and so do a group of those with you.” Allah is the One who measured the length of night and day. Some seasons, the nights are long and Qiyamul Layl is easier — in Perth during winter, Maghrib comes in at 5:15 and Fajr isn’t until around six. Plenty of time to sleep and still wake up. But in the peak of summer, when Fajr is at 3:30? That’s a different story. Allah knows all of this. And so He says: “He has forgiven you.” Qiyamul Layl is fard upon the Prophet ﷺ, but for the rest of us, Allah has already shown mercy and lifted that strict obligation. But Don’t Abandon It Altogether Here’s the key — just because the full obligation has been eased doesn’t mean doing nothing is an option. Allah says: “So read what is easy for you from the Quran.” Stand up for even two raka’at. Read whatever surahs have been memorised. Carve out even a small portion of the night for spiritual work. This is a fundamental principle in Islam: what cannot be accomplished entirely should not be abandoned in totality. Islam doesn’t teach perfectionism — it’s not 100% or nothing. It teaches consistent effort. The Prophet ﷺ said that the most beloved deeds to Allah are those that are consistent, even if they are small. Two raka’at every single night outweighs a marathon session once a month. And this, by the way, is one of the great purposes behind memorising the Quran — so that those surahs can be recited in prayer. Al-Kahf, Al-Mulk, Al-Baqarah — they come alive when recited standing before Allah at night. The Three Excuses Allah Accepts Then Allah provides specific concessions. First: those who are sick. Illness isn’t a choice — when rest is needed for recovery, Allah says it’s okay. But then come two more categories that are remarkable, because they are things people can choose — and Allah still grants them as valid reasons for doing less Qiyamul Layl. The first: those who travel the earth seeking Allah’s bounty — meaning those who are out working, doing business, building economic stability. The second: those who fight in the path of Allah, defending the religion and the community. These two are placed in equal standing. Working hard to earn a living is given the same weight as defending the faith. That is extraordinary. It tells us something profound about how Islam views economic productivity — not as a worldly distraction, but as an act valued by Allah Himself. The Prophet ﷺ said the best rizq is what a person earns from their own effort, and he pointed to Prophet Dawud (عليه السلام) as the example — a prophet, a king, and yet also a blacksmith who worked with iron and ate from the labour of his own hands. Ibn Umar expressed this beautifully. He said the best deaths he could wish for were two: martyrdom in the path of Allah, and dying on a business journey — on his camel, with his trade goods, on his way to earn a living. Because this ayah puts them side by side. Islam Wants Muslims to Be Wealthy — But With Purpose The encouragement to work hard and build wealth doesn’t come without direction. Islam doesn’t say: get rich so you can buy the fanciest car, then a fancy island, and once you run out of things to buy on earth, spend a trillion dollars trying to conquer Mars. Islam says: be rich, but that’s not the end goal. The ummah becomes strong when Muslims have economic power and an akhirah mindset. With wealth, the community can build schools, support students in critical fields, fund long-term projects. This is Sadaqatul Jariyah — continuously flowing charity that keeps giving long after the initial contribution. There’s a telling hadith in Imam Al-Nawawi’s Forty Collection that captures this tension perfectly. The poor companions once came to the Prophet ﷺ and complained: “Ya Rasulullah, the rich have taken all the extra reward! They pray like we pray, they fast like we fast — but they can give charity from their surplus wealth, and we can’t.” The Prophet ﷺ reassured them that dhikr — saying SubhanAllah, Alhamdulillah, Allahu Akbar — is also charity. The poor companions went away happy. But a few days later? The rich started doing dhikr too. Now they had both. The poor came back and said: what about us now? The point isn’t to vilify poverty. The Prophet ﷺ went on to explain that there is charity in every good act — helping someone onto their ride, carrying someone’s load. But wealth opens doors that nothing else can. Zakat, the pillar of Islam, is only payable by those who have wealth. And the framing matters: it’s not that the wealthy have to pay zakat — they get to pay zakat. Without wealth, that entire pillar of Islam is inaccessible. And hajj is the same. The story of Sayyidina Uthman (رضي الله عنه) at the Battle of Tabuk drives this home. He donated so generously — horses, camels, wealth — that the Prophet ﷺ said: “Nothing Uthman does after this will harm him.” Guaranteed paradise. And Uthman wasn’t living in poverty. He had luxuries. But look at the scale of what his wealth allowed him to do for the ummah. At the same time, Islam doesn’t expect anyone to give 100% away. The best charity, the Prophet ﷺ said, is what is spent on family — on spouses, on children. The balance is always there: spend on yourself, on your family, and on the ummah for the sake of the akhirah. The Beautiful Loan Even with all these concessions, Allah says: still, read what is easy from the Quran. Establish your salah. Pay your zakat. Don’t let the extras overshadow the foundations — a hundred raka’at of Qiyamul Layl mean nothing if Fajr is missed. Generous charity donations mean nothing if zakat is neglected. The obligatory always comes first. Then comes a stunning phrase: “And give Allah a beautiful loan (qard hasan).” A qard hasan is a loan with no deadline for repayment and no interest. Every good deed — every act of worship, every charity, every kindness — is a loan to Allah. And here’s the beauty of it: Allah doesn’t need our loan. He owns everything in the heavens and the earth and everything in between and beyond. He could simply say: “That’s Mine, I gave it to you, give it back.” But in His mercy, Allah understands human nature. He understands that people are wired to think in terms of profit and return on investment. So He frames it as a transaction: give Me a loan, and I will surely repay you — multiplied many times over. In human transactions, demanding extra on a qard is riba. But with Allah, He is the One promising to multiply the return. It’s the ultimate ROI. And what can a person invest with? Two things: wealth or skills. Both require Muslims to be hardworking. It’s All For Us Allah then makes something clear: whatever is sent forth for the akhirah,
