By Tiara Asherah

As a child, I watched people cry at the recitation of the Qur’an—reciters who did not even understand the language, yet broke into sobs.

Perhaps I’m too young to understand and maybe I’ll understand when I’m older. 

At a certain age, I developed the ability to understand the complex English translation of the Qur’an. Except… nothing made sense. 

I understood the meanings of individual words—but when they stood together, they felt scattered, disconnected.

From one moment, Allah speaks of the rulings of fasting, and the next, of Nabi Musa a.s and his people.

I could not trace the thread.

 I was always trapped in the maze of questions— 

What is Allah saying? 

Shouldn’t the word of God make some sort of sense to me? 

Am I not a believer of Allah? 

Yet this very book, even in translation, was enough for people to embrace Islam.

These same words granted them conviction that Islam is the truth. How could that be? 

I could never make sense of it— the love people had for the Qur’an. The addiction to recitation, the trembling of hearts when hearing its verses, the conviction of belief it planted in people. 

None of it reached me. 

I was left orphaned and deserted. 

Starving for at least some sort of connection with the words of my Creator.

Until Allah opened a door for me—through something I had never heard of before.

A discipline I never imagined existed: tafsir.

I was first exposed to tafsir through an Islamic certification programme under Masjid Darussalam and Masjid Al Khair. The very first surah we studied was Surah Al Mulk, taught by Ustaz Faheem. 

And May Allah bless him and increase him in ranks. 

His love for the Qur’an was incredibly contagious. He spoke of its verses as though he had learnt them for the very first time, the joy and passion just spilled from his tongue and marker as he could go on and on— about just a single verse. 

That was when I began to see — The Qur’an is miraculous. 

Secrets lie in every single stroke, stories lay hidden like diamonds in a cave between the verses. There was never an ending, everything led to the beginning. 

The threads were everywhere, connected to every single thing.

From tawhid to fiqh. Nabi Adam to us. Creation to non-existence. From life to death.

AND WHAT USED TO FEEL LIKE AN ILLITERATE LOOKING AT INK STAINED ON PAPER, FINALLY FELT LIKE A LIVE AUDIENCE WITH THE WRITER. 

His love soaked in every reminder. His care roared in every warning. 

The Qur’an is a universe of its own. This kitab that was sent down to our beloved Prophet ﷺ over 1400 years ago, yet somehow had messages it wanted to say directly to me. 

Which book does that? What kind of writer could ever do that?

Whether you observe the surah from a bird’s-eye view or dissect the verses in between like an operation, Allah has something to tell you in every single corner, height, angle and direction. 

So I came to realise its miracle. 

For a single book, a written text, it had a myriad of love languages. The Qur’an speaks to you, loves you, in the way Allah knows you to be loved.

So of course, one day, the tears eventually came. 

Because, what’s beautiful about the Qur’an? 

It is without a doubt, the word of Allah.

Do You Believe in One God
& Ready to [Re]start your Journey of Faith & Gratitude as a Muslim?