“Log Kya Kahengey?” is a clichéd expression overused in Urdu/Hindi-speaking households. It has shaped much of who we are as a community. As I grew older I realized that this phrase has its own local variations across communities worldwide. We are taught to fear the opinions of people.

On the whole, this phrase and its counterparts are used to police big ticket items. For instance marrying into a family of lower financial standing/a different race is looked down upon in the community, so it is an idea that cannot be entertained. Other significant examples include choice of career, the neighbourhood we call home, the car we drive and the school our children attend.

However, this seemingly harmless sentence, which many people now overlook has deeper impacts that seep within the cracks no matter how hard we try. It impacts how we dress, how we furnish our homes, how clean we keep our homes, how we interact with individuals of specific social standing, and how we choose to process our own emotions.

When we tell a little boy not to cry because he is a boy and people are watching, we are telling him the correct way for a male human being to live their life is to suppress their true feelings and to wear a mask. This not only hurts him in the long run, but also hurts the people he encounters. He bottles up his feelings, explodes at all the wrong moments and treats feelings with disdain, disallowing himself from understanding other’s feelings.

Yet in rejecting this suffocating social pressure, many have swung to the opposite extreme. Today’s motto “You do you!” has truly blurred the lines between societal pressure and the values our deen set for us. It is when intentionality began dissipating that the family structure became a burden, ageing parents belonged in a home and children learned they had to leave the nest at 18. This motto gave rise to making unusual career and life choices which have rendered the “known” old-school and undesirable. Allowing “you do you” and other similar ideologies, which place the self at the centre of one’s decision-making, to take root in your mind indicates that you are inevitably still a slave to “log kya kahengey?” because this is the new trend communities have set to “liberate” individuals.

So what is the alternative? The Islamic tradition teaches us a balanced path. One of the first hadith in most hadith books states “Actions are but by intention”. This does not only account for our acts in religion, but our everyday mundane activities as well. Even small intentions have long chains of impact.

Eat well and on time because Allah has made this body an amanah (something He entrusted to me) → A nourished body allows me to care for my children and maintain emotional balance → Healthier children and less stressed parents → Children grow organically, and parents perform better in their responsibilities → Both children and parents become more thankful to Allah.

The circularity of intention-setting is fascinating. You can set the intention at the first act, realize midway that you haven’t and do so then, or even at the completion of a task. When you achieve something big in your life, you might realize only then what your real reasons and motivation had been. You can add intentions, change them over time, and take some away, but deep down there is always a reason one does something, whether we consciously acknowledge it or not.

Intentionality in actions is more important than the action itself. Our deen tells us this. Not only are actions judged by their intentions, the Prophet PBUH also said إنما يبعث الناس على نياتهم People will be resurrected (and judged) according to their intentions. Sunan Ibn Majah 4229

When our intention is the pleasure of people, our actions will be so. What is trending will matter more than what will take us to Jannah. Most of us live our lives with people in our minds, judging the impact of our decisions with the society as our compass. If we were to redirect the compass of our intentions to Allah’s pleasure, life would look drastically different on this planet.

We would raise our children with values that reflected Allah’s pleasure every step of the way. We would set ourselves intentions, review and renew them constantly because it is humanly possible for them to get corrupted.

Asking ourselves “why am I doing this?” every step of the way is important. Recently I read something that frightened me: there are people who spent 80-100 years on this earth and have been in their graves hundreds of years waiting to be resurrected and to truly be judged for those “whys” before reaching their final home. Spending all our time focusing on this short span of life on this earth, worrying about what people will say today (opinions that seem to change frequently) will not grant us peace in those hundreds of years of waiting and worse when we face our Lord.

My humble advice: don’t get caught up in this world’s hustle. While our collective purpose is the worship of Allah, each one of us has been placed on a different route to this submission. Slow down, reflect on the purpose of your being, and allow it to illuminate the unique course your life takes. Uncertainty, overwhelm, fear, and failure are all necessary stations on the path. Don’t allow them to grip you; rather use them as stepping stones to set and constantly reset your intentions enabling you to achieve your purpose on your own terms without worrying about “log kya kahengey?”