As the crescent moon signals Ramadan’s farewell, your heart sways between gratitude and longing—tired yet fulfilled, wistful yet hopeful. This is the sweetness of ‘huzn al-ikhlas’ (the sadness of sincerity), a sign your worship was poured from the soul.
Imam Al-Ghazali wrote, ‘The believer’s sadness is not for the past, but for the scarcity of moments to draw nearer to Allah.’ You mourn not because Ramadan is gone, but because its mercy was so vast, and your soul thrived in its light.
Yet take joy, for Ibn Qayyim reminds us: ‘The end of an act of worship is the birth of its reward.’ Your fatigue is a badge of honor, your contentment a glimpse of Jannah’s joy. And as the Prophet ﷺ promised, ‘When Ramadan departs, the gates of dua remain wide open.’
So whisper, ‘Oh Allah, let me live to see Ramadan again,’ and carry its lessons forward. For the best of believers are those who grieve over missed chances but rise with determination—like the moon, which wanes only to return, brighter and more beloved.”
May your post-Ramadan days be filled with the same barakah, and may Allah accept your efforts and grant you many more Ramadans to come. 🌙💛
