The curse of saying Mubarak.

Saying Ramadan Mubarak, Jum’ah Mubarak, Eid Mubarak (before the day of Eid) has been declared bid’ah and not-from-Sunnah by many scholars. I am always left wondering about the power of these greetings and the effect therein on the Eemaaan of a Muslim. I agree with the scholars that, these statements are ‘not from Sunnah’ but calling them bid’ah is an outright exaggeration.
Let’s have a look at the definition of bid’ah and then have a look at the relation between the definition and these greetings. “Bid’ah means something that has been introduced into the religion of Allaah that has no general or specific basis to support it”. Now when people greet anyone by saying Ramadan Mubarak or Jummah Mubarak, do they intend it to be from the matters of Ibaadah/Sunnah/Islam or do they intend it just to be a customary and a casual greeting? If it is intended to be from the matters of Ibaadah/Sunnah/Islam then it surely is a bid’ah but, if it’s just a customary greeting then there is no scope left for anyone to call it a bid’ah. Saying Ramazan Mubarak, Jum’ah Mubarak or Eid Mubarak (before the day of Eid) is not bid’ah just like saying Shaadi Mubarak isn’t. When we say Shaadi Mubarak, do we intend it to be from the matters of Ibaadah? We say Mubarak on so many occasions and those who have a problem with saying Mubarak limit it to either Ramadan, Eid or Jum’ah. When don’t we say Mubarak, when? Your friend qualifies an examination, you say Mubarak. Someone gets a job, you say Mubarak. Someone achieves a feat in his/her life, you say Mubarak, and so on and on. Shouldn’t all this be declared bid’ah? No? Why not? They will come up with the explanation that, “umm, yeah . . . no, it’s not a bid’ah!”. Same is the case with saying Ramadan/Jum’ah/Eid Mubarak. Mubarak means blessed, and saying Ramadan Mubarak or Jum’ah means, “have a blessed Ramadan/Jum’ah”. What’s so wrong in the statement, I don’t see any offence or evil therein? It’s a dua, and we have so many duas that we make on our own. It’s not compulsory or binding upon Muslims to make only such duas which Prophet (saw) made. We can make duas on our own and ask for His blessings in our own words. The only issue is that we shouldn’t attribute them to Prophet Muhammad (saw). If that’s the case then surely it is a case of bid’ah. But we all know that these greetings are customary and casual, no one intends them to be from Sunnah, so there is no problem, not at all!
There is no twist to these words rather scholars twist them because they got no time for important matters that have been looming large and falling upon Muslim society as a doom. I would suggest them to channelize their energy for important and serious matters rather than wasting it on trivial issues.
Wallaahu Aalam bis sawaab.
JazakAllah.

P.S. Eid-ul-Fitr is just a few days away. I hope that, you had a Mubarak Ramadan and I wish you a happy and a joyous Eid . . . Eid Mubarak!

Past . . .

The future, the past, my present is aghast.
A poor creature, I’m so lost.
Bereft of thoughts,
I’m a miser of all sorts.
Steering through the deep gorge,
I wear a camouflage.
The gorge, they call it time.
Gosh, the word is so sublime.

I’ve so forgotten my own past,
Still I pretend not to be lost.
I don’t remember my history,
And still I dare say that, I am me!
My past defines my existence,
And I’m devoid of its very essence.
Obliterated from my memory,
Is my past, my form, my own story!

I wonder what defines me.
My past?
My present?
My future?
What’s in the name?
Isn’t past, present, future, all the same?
Mystery becomes history, and future, the past.
Past is my identity, future is my destiny.
My present is just a mirror,
Reflecting everything ghastly.
Past is the truth, present is an illusion, and future is a dream.
Life is just one big scream.
Laugh it off, with the truth of life.
Ah, the arrow of time!
Don’t forget, past holds the tail.
Raise the mast, and set the sail.

Forgetting tragedies is a tragedy.
How can I be a man of such misery?
My tragedies make me laugh,
They make me smile over the songs of melancholy.
Bad memories don’t make me sad,
They teach me how to be glad.

I learn from the past, to live the illusion.
I earn from the past, to buy the dreams.
Past is my master, it teaches me life.
Past is my saint, it preaches me truth.

P.S. Dedicated to all those people, and especially to Rushda, who are adamant about forgetting the past.