SURAH ANBIYA OPENS with an unexpected urgency and force. Something momentous is drawing near, yet people are acting as though nothing is happening.
ٱقْتَرَبَ لِلنَّاسِ حِسَابُهُمْ وَهُمْ فِى غَفْلَةٍۢ مُّعْرِضُونَ
(The time of) people’s account has drawn near, yet they are heedlessly turning away. (al Anbiya 1)
It is a wake-up call. It confronts a common human tendency: living as though there will always be more time, while ignoring deeper spiritual realities and accountability.
The word ghaflah is often translated as heedlessness, negligence, unawareness, or being inattentive. It is spiritual distraction, being so occupied with immediate concerns that one loses sight of what is most important and enduring
When I first reflected on this verse, my mind immediately went to modern distractions: social media, endless scrolling, consumerism, chasing promotions, planning holidays, and the constant pursuit of the next thing. This is what ghaflah looks like today.
But the more I considered the verse, the more I began to wonder whether that reading was too shallow.
After all, these things are symptoms. They are what ghaflah looks like. But are they really what the Qur’an is describing?
The verse does not simply say that people become heedless. It says:
وَهُمْ فِي غَفْلَةٍ مُّعْرِضُونَ
While they are in heedlessness, turning away.
The more I reflected on the preposition fī, the more significant it seemed. The Qur’an does not describe people as occasionally experiencing ghaflah. It describes them as being inside it.
That raises a different question altogether.
What if ghaflah is not merely a personal condition? What if it is also an environment that you are immersed in?
What if the problem is not simply that people are distracted, but that they inhabit a world that continuously produces distraction, forgetfulness, and distance from ultimate realities?
Seen in this light, the challenge of the verse becomes much larger than managing screen time or reducing our attachment to worldly things. Those matters remain important, but they do not get to the root of the issue.
The deeper question is: what kind of world are we living in?
One of the defining features of modern secular society is that it has learned to organise itself without reference to divine revelation or remembrance of Allah. This does not necessarily require denying Allah. In fact, belief in Allah can remain entirely intact. The more significant shift is that Allah becomes unnecessary to the functioning of public life.
Education, economics, law, politics, culture all proceed according to their own internal logic. Religion is assigned its place, but increasingly as one compartment among many rather than as the organising principle of the whole.
Allah is acknowledged but marginalised. The Hereafter is affirmed but feels distant. Divine accountability remains a doctrine but ceases to function as a living reference point in daily life.
The tragedy is not merely that people forget. It is that they forget while their account continues to draw near.
In such a world, ghaflah becomes more than an individual weakness. It becomes a social atmosphere, created and maintained.
This is why I think that seeing ghaflah only as a personal issue misses part of the Qur’anic critique. If the issue is simply that I spend too much time on my phone, then the answer is better self-discipline. But if ghaflah is woven into the assumptions and structures of the society around me, then the challenge becomes much larger.
Personal reform is essential. The verse does not free people from responsibility. Individuals are not just fī ghaflah; they are also muʿriḍūn, choosing to turn away. Each person is still accountable for their inner response. And just like an individual, a secular society has ‘irad, turning away and stopping itself from changing, even when the truth is presented to it.
The verse may therefore be inviting us to think beyond ourselves. What kind of families are we building? What assumptions shape our communities? What kind of institutions are we establishing? What vision of reality is being passed to our children?
These questions point beyond personal piety toward something more fundamental: the recovery of a tawḥīdic vision of reality.
Perhaps this is part of what made the mission of the Messenger ﷺ so transformative. He did not merely call individuals to remember Allah while leaving the surrounding order unchanged. He cultivated a community whose understanding of commerce, family, law, leadership, education, and worship all flowed from the same source: the recognition that Allah is One and that all people will ultimately return to Him.
The reckoning continues to draw near, even if we stand still.
The question is not only whether we remember that as individuals. The question is whether the world we are helping to build encourages that remembrance, or encourages us to forget.
|QUR’ANIC REFLECTION · SURAH AL ANBIYA 1|
