Ash-Shu‘ara, 26:83–85 Personal Reflection: These verses have become my soft landing at the end of salah — right before I say salam, I whisper them like a closing prayer to my Lord. They hold me.They steady me.And they remind me of who I want to be… even when I feel far from it. 🌿 'Rabbi hab li hukman…' 'My Lord, grant me wisdom…' It’s not a du’a for wealth. Not for

t even for strength. It’s a request for clarity — for inner guidance that helps me navigate this world the way Allah wants. In a world full of noise and opinions, I don’t just want to be smart. I want hikmah — the quiet kind of wisdom that knows when to speak, when to step back, and when to trust Allah instead of rushing. Some days, I say this and feel like I’m asking Allah to fix the confusion inside me. To help me see clearly what matters. That’s why I repeat it in sujood. It’s a personal plea to feel less lost. 🤍 'Wa alhiqni bis-saliheen…' 'And join me with the righteous…' Not 'make me famous,' not 'make me followed' — just join me with the good ones. The sincere ones. The ones Allah loves — even if no one else knows their names. This part feels like home. Because sometimes, I get tired of the performance of this world. I just want to be part of something real. And this du’a doesn’t assume I am righteous. It humbly says, 'Just let me be with them.' Even if I’m behind, even if I’m late — Ya Allah, don’t leave me out. 🕊️ 'Waj‘al li lisana sidqin fil-akhireen…' 'And grant me a reputation of honor among later generations…' This line isn’t about ego. It’s not 'make me go viral' — it’s legacy. It’s a request to be remembered with truth. To be remembered not for achievements or numbers — but for sincerity. For leaving behind goodness. The kind of memory that makes someone say, 'She tried to live for Allah.' Not perfect. Just… sincere. When I recite this verse, I often think of my son and my father….And how I want to leave behind ripples of good — not noise, but nur. 🌸 'Waj‘alni min warathati jannatin-na‘eem…' 'And make me among the inheritors of the Garden of Bliss.' It ends with Jannah. Because that’s where this restless heart really wants to go. Not just visiting. Inheriting. Being home there. I say this after every salah and it gives me peace. It feels like telling Allah: 'I know I’ve stumbled. I know I’ve been distracted. But my heart still wants You.' Let me walk into that Garden one day, not because I earned it — But because I asked… every single day. Final Thought: These three short ayahs feel like a map: • Clarity in this world • Company in the hereafter • A name remembered in goodness • And a home waiting in Jannah I don’t know many things for certain but I know I’ll keep whispering this du’a at the end of my salah. Because something in it feels like a soul’s soft return to where it belongs