BY MUHAMMAD MOHSIN IQBAL
Allah Almighty has bestowed upon mankind blessings so numerous that they defy counting and transcend human comprehension. To awaken man from negligence, the Holy Qur’an repeatedly poses a profound and searching question in Surah Ar-Rahman: “Which of the favours of your Lord will you deny?” This question appears thirty-one times, not as mere repetition, but as a divine reminder addressed to the human conscience. Each repetition is a call to reflection, urging man to recognize how deeply his existence is enveloped in mercy.
Human beings often measure gratitude in words, rituals, or fleeting expressions of thanks, yet the reality is that even a lifetime devoted to prostration and praise cannot adequately repay a fraction of Allah’s favours. The most precious blessings are often those that remain unnoticed because they function flawlessly. Breath, for instance, is taken without thought or effort. We inhale and exhale freely, rarely pausing to acknowledge that this simple act is a divine gift, sustained not by our will but by His command. Only when breath becomes a struggle—when a patient lies in a hospital bed dependent on a ventilator—does the true worth of this blessing reveal itself. In such moments, man realizes that what he once assumed to be ordinary was, in fact, extraordinary.
Life repeatedly teaches this lesson; blessings are most keenly felt when they are threatened, diminished, or withdrawn. Comfort conceals value, while discomfort unveils it. I was reminded of this truth recently through a seemingly minor yet deeply instructive personal experience. For a long time, my teeth had been damaged, making it increasingly difficult to chew food properly. What was once an effortless daily routine gradually turned into a source of unease. A close friend of mine, Dr. Muhammad Iqbal—an experienced and well-regarded dentist—had often urged me to visit his clinic. Eventually, I did.
With professional skill and sincere care, he fitted five artificial teeth. Technically, the procedure was successful, yet something fundamental was missing. Eating no longer carried the same ease or pleasure. The simple joy of a meal felt incomplete. I returned to him, and further adjustments were made, resulting in some improvement, but still the experience fell short of what I once enjoyed naturally. Over time, I learned to adapt, as humans invariably do. Dr. Iqbal reassured me that with the passage of time, the artificial teeth would settle and function better.
Yet the deeper lesson had already taken root in my heart. I realized how perfectly Allah had designed the natural teeth—each one placed with precision, sensitivity, balance, and harmony. No artificial substitute, however refined, could fully replicate the perfection of what nature, by divine will, had originally provided. It was only when that natural ease was lost that its true value became clear.
This realization extended far beyond teeth. If such a small and specific blessing could affect daily life so profoundly, what of the countless other favours bestowed upon us without interruption? Our eyes that open every morning to light and colour, our hands that move in obedience to our will, our legs that carry us from place to place, and our hearts that beat tirelessly without pause—all perform their duties silently. They ask for no recognition and lodge no complaint. Yet their absence or failure would instantly disrupt the very fabric of life.
True gratitude, therefore, is not born solely from abundance but is often awakened by deprivation. It is easy to thank Allah when comfort surrounds us, but the real test of faith lies in maintaining gratitude amid difficulty. In this regard, one finds profound lessons in the lives of those who endure hardship with patience and dignity. I see my own angels—my beloved ones—one of whom has been eating and drinking without teeth for a long time, yet has never uttered a word of complaint. There is immense wisdom in such silent endurance. It reflects a heart anchored in contentment and trust in Allah’s decree.
Islam teaches that gratitude is not conditional upon ease, nor is patience confined to hardship; both are intertwined acts of worship. The grateful servant recognizes Allah’s mercy in comfort, while the patient servant acknowledges His wisdom in trial. In both states, faith is strengthened, and the soul is refined.
Allah Almighty, in His infinite compassion, does not demand repayment for His favours, for repayment lies beyond human capacity. He asks only that man remember Him, acknowledge His blessings, and remain thankful in every condition. Gratitude, in essence, is an affirmation of faith—it is the recognition that every breath, every moment of ease, and even every trial comes from Him and returns to Him.
Thus, the divine question continues to echo through human life: “Which of the favours of your Lord will you deny?” It is a question that requires no spoken response. Its true answer is reflected in how consciously we live, how humbly we endure, and how sincerely we thank Allah—not only for the blessings we cherish, but also for those we recognize only when they are gone.
