A Memorable Morning at Madrasa Al-Islah In the name of Allah, the All-Merciful, the Ever-Merciful A Memorable Morning at Madrasa al-Iṣlāḥ By: Dr Muḥammad Akram Nadwī Oxford 20/10/2026 Love, in an age, can scarcely find one who will share its pain; For years the mountains may continue to lament, yet there is no Farhād now. On Wednesday, 14 October 2026, at about half past eight in the morning, Allah granted me the honour of presenting myself at Madrasa al-Iṣlāḥ, Sarāʾī Mīr. With me were my dear brother Muḥammad Ajmal and my nephew Ḥamzah Ajmal Nadwī. The freshness of the early hours, together with a familiar tranquillity upon the heart, made the atmosphere singularly uplifting. The moment I set foot within the precincts of the madrasa, a number of windows of memory opened at once, as though a luminous volume of the past had been unfolded and the fragrance of learning and inquiry, rising from its pages, was now diffusing into the present air. Certain places are not merely aggregates of bricks, stones and buildings; they encapsulate within themselves an age of scholarly striving, the rigours of the learned, the labour of teachers and the intellectual inheritance of generations. For me, Madrasa al-Iṣlāḥ is precisely such a place, where attendance simultaneously becomes the recovery of memories, the renewal of scholarly affiliation and an opportunity to ponder future possibilities. The impact of Madrasa al-Iṣlāḥ is not identical upon every visitor. Some arrive and seem to depart without any marked impression; upon the hearts of others its ambience leaves only a light trace. My own state, however, is different. This institution does not merely impress me; it exerts upon my heart and mind an effect altogether extraordinary. Its atmosphere, its learned tradition and the recollections of Imām Farāhī—may Allah have mercy upon him—establish within me a world of emotions that cannot easily be gathered into words. For me, Madrasa al-Iṣlāḥ is not a school; it is an intellectual and spiritual nexus. In its presence, the condition of the heart changes, and the bright memories of the past mingle with the feelings of the present. Every visit to this institution reminds me of Mawlānā Ḥamīd al-Dīn Farāhī: “It is through his bounty that the Jīḥūn flows into my goblet.” Some of his contemporaries used to say of him that he was no human being but an angel. Within that remark lies such an admission of his grandeur and such a reverence for his person that the speaker, as it were, feels no need to add anything more; words halt there, and silence itself becomes the language of devotion. To the villagers, Farāhī was an extraordinary elder, a great scholar, a person deserving of utmost respect. In my sight he was a towering researcher whose life’s entire harvest was knowledge, whose pastime was knowledge and whose centre of thought and vision was likewise knowledge. For him, knowledge was not a transient occupation nor a mere corner of life; it was the very fabric of his being. To grasp his personality one must descend into the depth of his scholarly majesty, his investigative temperament and his penetration of thought. He would articulate the spoken word and the unspoken beyond it, for his distinctiveness lay not only in the esteem which his contemporaries had for him, but in that scholarly accomplishment which granted him an eminent station among the people of research. Within his personality were gathered the keen insight of the ʿālim, the fine exactitude of the muḥaqqiq and an extraordinary attachment to the Qurʾān. His intellectual legacy still summons the serious student to deep study and reflection. In his thought, the Qurʾān is not a book only for recitation; it is an integral scientific universe, each of its elements bound to the others by threads of meaning. The hallmark of his manhaj is that it calls the student to move beyond the surface of the wording, to ponder over the naẓm al-Qurʾān, the context and coherence of the āyāt. For this reason, to come to Madrasa al-Iṣlāḥ is for me more than a visit to an educational institution; it is an appearance before an intellectual tradition whose light, with the passing of time, continues to be transmitted into new minds and fresh readings. Alas for those eyes that beheld Farāhī yet failed to recognise his insight; pity for those intellects that could not reach the heights of his penetrating thought. To appreciate the beauty of speech, vision alone is insufficient; what is needed is the taste of vision—not mere reason but the activation of reason. They declared the elegance of imagination to be a sin; How distant the ascetic is from any taste for speech! At the madrasa, Mawlānā Nasīm Ẓahīr Iṣlāḥī and Mawlānā Akhtar ʿĀlam Iṣlāḥī received us with great affection and sincerity. Their warmth transformed the exhaustion of travel into the delicacy of belonging. During tea in the guest-house we had an initial conversation. That brief sitting was not a formality; it was marked by the warmth of mutual attachment and an awareness of a shared scholarly heritage. Some meetings are remembered, not for an abundance of words, but for the closeness of hearts. A few moments of sincerity may leave a more enduring imprint than a lengthy discourse. Afterwards, I had occasion to go to the office of Dāʾirah Ḥamīdīyyah. There I surveyed the ancient and modern publications of Imām Farāhī and other scholarly material. While looking at the books and journals, the thought returned again and again that the writings of the learned are not sheets of paper; they are windows into the author’s mind, signposts of his scholarly journey and paths that lead to his intellectual world. Time passes, the scholars resign from this world, yet the ideas that flow from their pens remain radiant within the pages of books like lamps. The only condition is that someone sit close, read by their light and seek answers to new questions therein. In the office we exchanged views on various scholarly matters and I was able to present a few useful suggestions. When I recorded my impressions in the visitor’s register, it felt as though I were attempting, in a few lines, to summarise a long scholarly affiliation. The pen’s words were few, but behind them lay a whole chain of memories, readings and intellectual attachments. Often a person wishes to say much about a place, but only a few sentences descend upon the page; the rest of the feelings remain as the silent script of the heart. Leaving the Dāʾirah Ḥamīdīyyah, we turned towards the Arabic Department, where I met the Head of Department, Mawlānā Muftī Saif al-Islām Iṣlāḥī, together with other teachers. The gathering of the learned has its own delight. A single brief remark can sometimes open a locked window in the mind, and even in what appears a trifling exchange of views there may be possibilities whose echoes continue to be heard for long afterwards. Thereafter we visited the central library and examined the register of Farāhī’s taʿlīqāt. In the hush of the library there is a curious eloquence: books do not speak, yet their pages preserve the resonances of scholarly thought. Every book is the harvest of a mind’s long exertion, and every marginal note testifies that within the world of research one question often gives birth to many new ones. One important and memorable activity of that morning was the conversation with the students of the seventh year Arabic class. After the recitation of the Qurʾān, Mawlānā Nasīm Ẓahīr Iṣlāḥī introduced me, after which I was afforded the opportunity to address the students. I chose as my theme the development of the ʿulūm al-ḥadīth and the manhaj adopted by Imām Muslim—may Allah have mercy upon him—in his Ṣaḥīḥ. These two subjects constitute significant chapters of the Islamic intellectual tradition, wherein the grandeur of transmission, the subtlety of investigation, the observance of principles and the shining example of scholarly integrity are united. I sought to make clear that the history of the ʿulūm al-ḥadīth is not merely the tale of collecting reports and preserving them in books; rather, it is the narrative of an unceasing struggle to safeguard a tremendous scholarly trust. To ensure the preservation of the ḥadīth of the Messenger of Allah, blessings and peace be upon him, and to verify their correct attribution, the muḥaddithūn laid down principles that include examining the conditions of narrators, comparing isnāds, studying the matn, investigating variants in transmission and identifying hidden defects. This scholarly journey was not traversed in a single day; generations contributed their labour, innumerable journeys, prodigious memories, fine observations and principled precaution. To the muḥaddithūn, the service of ḥadīth was the protection of a sacred trust. For that reason they never separated love of the Messenger—blessings and peace be upon him—from scholarly caution. Devotion granted them an awareness of the greatness of the reports, and integrity compelled them to investigate in accordance with the demands of that greatness. In their view, to accept every transmitted statement without enquiry was not a proof of love; true service lay in examining the attribution with full responsibility and, in the light of scholarly principles, distinguishing between what is sound and unsound. In this respect, the history of the ʿulūm al-ḥadīth is not only the history of the preservation of reports, but also an unparalleled tradition of scholarly trustworthiness, critical insight and investigative honesty. Against that background I discussed the manhaj of Imām Muslim. The study of Ṣaḥīḥ Muslim makes it evident that the scholarly stature of a muḥaddith consists not only in gathering sound reports but also in their arrangement, in presenting diverse chains, in bringing out the relationships between the isnāds and in clarifying the scholarly context of the narration. By the orderly manner in which Imām Muslim has placed the reports and their variants, the student is helped to understand that examining a ḥadīth apart from its chain and its other versions is not always sufficient. When the various chains are gathered together, the possibilities of discerning the wording of the narration, the differences in the isnād and the modes of transmission are considerably expanded. Thus the reading of the book becomes not merely acquaintance with the text of the aḥādīth, but also a means of familiarity with the scholarly temperament of the muḥaddith and his investigative method. I also endeavoured to make the students understand that maturity in the ʿulūm al-ḥadīth is not attained by memorising technical terms or enumerating the titles of books. It requires continuous reading, practical exercise in the principles, direct benefit from the writings of the imams of ḥadīth and the ability to comprehend the differences of manhaj. If a student of knowledge is acquainted only with the results, his knowledge remains limited; when, however, he begins to grasp the causes, the evidences and the scholarly procedures by which those results were reached, depth of vision and firmness of judgement are generated within him. The lamp of knowledge yields enduring light only when its flame is kept supplied, unremittingly, with the fuel of questioning, investigation and intellectual discipline. During the conversation with the students I also introduced myself, mentioning my scholarly connection with Madrasa al-Iṣlāḥ and my relation to the thought of Imām Farāhī. I informed them that a Qurʾānic tafsīr in Arabic, following the Farāhī manhaj, is under preparation, whose chief aim is to acquaint the Arab world with the Qurʾānic thought of Imām Farāhī. Behind this effort is the desire that his scholarly ideas be presented to the scholars and students in their original linguistic and intellectual milieu, so that serious discussion may take place, opportunities for understanding his manhaj may grow and new scholarly endeavours in Qurʾānic studies may be opened. The right due to a great scholar is not fulfilled merely by praising him; it is necessary that his ideas be read, understood, assessed by scholarly standards and that the insight obtained from them be transmitted onward. On that occasion I also mentioned my own, as yet unpublished, commentary on Ṣaḥīḥ Muslim, extending to twenty-five volumes. The mention reminded me that between the completion of scholarly work and its publication there may sometimes be an extended interval. In the preparation of a book there are many stages—reading, research, arrangement and revision—yet an important dimension of its scholarly benefit is that it should reach the people of learning and the students and participate in the scholarly conversation. Nevertheless, the service of knowledge is not confined to printed books alone; teaching, discussion, question and answer, and the transmission of experience are equally significant halting-places in the same caravan. The time allotted to that short session was limited, yet the breadth of the subjects was such that every point opened several new doors. While addressing the students I became repeatedly aware that the life of an intellectual tradition is not merely in the preservation of books, but in the continued life of their ideas. If books remain in cupboards while minds do not converse with them, the light of knowledge grows restricted. When, by contrast, the student questions, seeks evidence and endeavours to understand the manāhij of his predecessors, the scholarly heritage of the past becomes the creative energy of the present. It is important to give the new generation the results ready-made, but to teach them the way to those results brings a benefit still more enduring. The programme concluded with the moving duʿāʾ of Mawlānā ʿUbayd Allāh Qāsmī. Present at that moment were my respected brother Mawlānā Muḥammad Sarfarāz Iṣlāḥī Nadwī and several other honourable teachers. The success of this journey owed much to the special attention and kindness of my respected brother Mawlānā Shakīl Aḥmad Aʿẓamī, resident in Bahrain, for which we are deeply grateful. Likewise we are indebted to the cooperation of our respected brother Āzād Farāhī. After the duʿāʾ, Mawlānā Nasīm Ẓahīr Iṣlāḥī and Mawlānā Akhtar ʿĀlam Iṣlāḥī bade us farewell with affection. In the course of conversation they informed us about the general circumstances of the madrasa, its educational activities and its construction projects, and they answered my questions. From their words it became evident that the life of an institution cannot subsist solely upon the bright exploits of its past; it needs also the labour of the present, the planning of the future and a meaningful engagement with changing scholarly and educational requirements. An educational tradition is like a tree whose roots are anchored in the depths of the past, but whose branches remain verdant only when they are ceaselessly nourished by the labour of the present and the hope of the future. While departing from Madrasa al-Iṣlāḥ, many impressions of that morning were sealed in the mind: the warmth of the welcome, the publications of the Dāʾirah Ḥamīdīyyah, the silence of the library, the register of Farāhī’s annotations, the meetings with the teachers and the discussion before the students on the ʿulūm al-ḥadīth and the manhaj of Imām Muslim. Together they had assumed the form of a memory in which was present both the fragrance of the past and the hope of the future. That visit reminded me once more that the true wealth of an educational institution is not merely its buildings, its books or its historical affiliations; its real strength is the living thought that gives meaning to all these and continues to be transmitted from one generation to the next. The intellectual legacy of Imām Ḥamīd al-Dīn Farāhī is a shining example of this truth. The life of great scholars does not end with the cessation of their physical existence; their questions, their principles and their ideas find new life in the minds of later generations. Real fidelity to them is not to adorn their names with the flowers of devotion, but to keep their scholarly heritage alive through study, research, teaching and creative thought. The grandeur of the past becomes an investment for the future only when it is linked to the labour of the present. The journey of knowledge is, in reality, a journey of passing the flame from lamp to lamp. One generation, by its exertion, study and experience, acquires a light which it then entrusts to the next; that light sparks new questions in fresh minds, illumines new paths and keeps the scholarly caravan moving forward. Dr Muḥammad Akram Nadwī For Oxford writings, Channel on WhatsApp: https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VbAxp2qGpLHHqQ3LoY0w Disclaimer: This article was translated by AI. Original post: https://t.me/DrAkramNadwi/10831 #Advice, #Biography, #Education, #Hadith, #Quran, #Spirituality, #Thinking, #History Memorable Meeting with Sheikh Dr. Akram Nadwi By Saniyā Nasīm A Memorable Meeting with Shaykh Dr Muḥammad Akram Nadwī (Oxford) A soul-nourishing and historic journey of knowledge, compassion and resolve The scene of the memorable encounter with Dr Akram Nadwī in the courtyard of Qubā International School In the course of life there are moments that arrest the onward rush of time; their impressions are engraved upon the tablet of the heart in such a manner that, though years may pass, their freshness does not fade. One such moving and unforgettable moment occurred when, after an interval of fifteen years, I met the illustrious scholar, the eminent muḥaddith and researcher, Shaykh Dr Muḥammad Akram Nadwī (Oxford), within the precincts of Qubā International School. This was not merely the meeting of two individuals; rather, it was an ocean of reverence, respect and overpowering emotion flowing from a student towards her mentor and spiritual guide, finally reaching its shore after a long wait. During those fifteen years many stages of growth, many stations and many storms were encompassed. In those demanding and intricate circumstances—when on the one side there raged tempests of difficulty, and on the other side the yearning for knowledge that never dimmed—my life had reached a point where every step was a trial. It is in such trying periods, when a woman is in greatest need of sincere reassurance, protection and direction, that Allāh Most High steadied my faltering feet through the compassionate guidance of Dr Akram Nadwī. First Meeting and the Beginning of Learning I was only an eleven-year-old girl when I first met the Doctor. That golden day still revolves before my eyes like a motion picture. Within the blessed and scholarly atmosphere of Asmāʾ Arabic College, and by the gracious mediation of my respected teacher Mawlānā ʿAbd al-Waḥīd Qāsmī, I was introduced to Dr Akram Nadwī. It was the favour and nurturing gaze of Mawlānā ʿAbd al-Waḥīd that made me part of that caravan of learning. I was then a novice student in the second year of Arabic language and literature, seated and listening to Dr Akram Nadwī. When he had concluded his words and departed, I inscribed several of his counsels upon my heart and, in every difficult phase of my life thereafter, acted upon them and continuously derived benefit, al-ḥamdu li-llāh. The wheel of life kept turning; the storm of trials seemed incessant. In those very moments I felt the acute need for a compassionate mentor, yet I could not even imagine that I might meet the Doctor again, nor that balm in the form of his affectionate words would be applied to the deep wounds of my soul. When, after fifteen years, I once more stood face to face with the Doctor at Qubā International School, the turbulence of my personal circumstances during those years flashed before my eyes in a single instant. Notwithstanding those hardships, when Shaykh Akram Nadwī learnt of my favourable and unfavourable conditions alike, the tenderness with which he urged me to continue my scholarly journey under every circumstance was nothing short of the water of life. His compassion transformed my crumbling resolve into a solid rock. Through his kindness I became certain that, so long as the teacher’s hand rests upon one’s head, however dark the night, the path to the destination will be illumined. “Never allow the lamp of knowledge to be extinguished; difficulties are merely the traveller’s examination.” Women’s Education, the Prophetic Mission and the Unceasing Toil of Shaykh Akram Nadwī During this encounter it is essential to mention the Shaykh’s immense and manifold services in the revival of women’s education and their participation in the study of ḥadīth. As a woman myself, I am profoundly moved by this majestic scholarly contribution and cherish it from the depths of my heart. Just as the Messenger of Allāh, Muḥammad al-Muṣṭafā ṣallā Allāhu ʿalayhi wa-sallam, bestowed honour, dignity and the right to knowledge upon daughters, mothers and sisters, the honoured Shaykh, by revivifying this very Prophetic mission, has dedicated his entire life to the education, training and restoration of women’s rights. He has laboured day and night, renouncing worldly comforts, for the single vision that the daughters of the Ummah should not remain ignorant, but rather attain excellence in religious and worldly sciences and become dignified builders of society. His lengthy and exhausting scholarly struggle is in truth a living reflection of the uswa ḥasana and the Sunna nabawiyya, granting to a gender long oppressed and overlooked the opportunity to shine upon the horizon of learning like sun and moon. Masterpiece Writings: al-Wafāʾ bi-Akhbār al-Nisāʾ and al-Muḥaddithāt His most magnificent scholarly masterpiece is al-Wafāʾ bi-Akhbār al-Nisāʾ, comprising more than forty-three volumes, together with its world-renowned abridgement al-Muḥaddithāt: The Women Scholars in Islam. In this monumental research he has presented to the world the biographies and scholarly services of over 9,000 female muḥaddithāt and ʿālimāt, compelling global recognition of the highest intellectual and academic capacities of women. With unparalleled dedication, sincerity of purpose and immense toil he has highlighted the achievements of these luminous personalities of Islamic history. This is the clearest proof that he does not regard woman as a weak segment of society but as a powerful and empowered being. His firm conviction has always been that the education of a woman is in reality the guarantee of the education and upbringing of an entire family and of successive generations. It is this lofty intellectual vision, scholastic renewal and practical striving that has granted countless students and women, myself included, inexhaustible courage and fresh spirit to pursue our journeys of knowledge whatever the circumstances. His Person and His Greatness When, after the long wait of fifteen years, he at last stood before me, my emotion defied expression. Tears of joy filled my eyes, and my heart was heavy with devotion impossible to render into words. Despite occupying an eminent position in the world of scholarship and lecturing at Oxford, one of the foremost academic institutions globally, there was not the slightest trace of arrogance in his disposition. His humility is like a lofty tree: the more laden with fruit, the more it inclines towards the earth. The sincerity and affection with which he remembered me, and the manner in which he urged me to advance despite my difficulties, captivated my heart. The personality of Dr Akram Nadwī is a beautiful fusion of knowledge and action, asceticism and piety, humility and grace—qualities now becoming rare. That blessed day at Qubā International School, and the initial mediation of my respected teacher Mawlānā ʿAbd al-Waḥīd Qāsmī, impressed upon me that certain relationships in life are never soiled by the dust of time; rather, they become beacons of light in the darkness of hardship. Supplication and Wish May Allāh, exalted is He, grant Shaykh Dr Muḥammad Akram Nadwī (Oxford) long life in health and well-being, keep his shade always over our heads, and continue to allow the Ummah to benefit from his scholarly grace and blessings. Āmīn. Disclaimer: This article was translated by AI. Original post: https://t.me/DrAkramNadwi/10840 #Biography, #Education, #Women, #Hadith, #Spirituality, #Advice, #Character Guidance on Funeral Prayer Recitation