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Don’t Ask Permission to Fly

  • Writer: areebaarshad930
    areebaarshad930
  • Jan 16
  • 2 min read

Don’t ask permission to fly.

The wings are yours.

And the sky belongs to no one.


For a long time, I hesitated to write my feelings. I worried—Who will understand? Who will judge? Does my voice matter? But I’ve come to realize something powerful: a pen in sincere hands can change hearts, and changed hearts can change the world.


History teaches us this truth.


When revelation descended, it did not come with armies or monuments. It came with words—divine words—revealed to a man who could not read or write, yet whose message reshaped humanity. Through the Prophet ﷺ, the Qur’an entered the world and continues to live in hearts centuries later. That is the miracle of truth carried through expression.


At the core of that message is the first kalimah:


La ilaha illallah, Muhammadur Rasulullah

There is no god but Allah, and Muhammad ﷺ is the Messenger of Allah.


We are mortal.

Our days are numbered.

But what we create with sincerity can outlive us.


Art, writing, service, and truth—when rooted in faith—become immortal echoes.



Writing as Worship



As a modern Muslim woman, born in Pakistan, shaped by America, and living in the UK, I carry many worlds within me. Sometimes I feel like I belong everywhere and nowhere at once. Yet when I write, I feel anchored. Writing becomes an act of remembrance (dhikr), a form of worship. It is my way of testifying to truth in a world that often drowns in noise.


In New York, I’ve seen words scribbled on subway walls—cries for justice, poems of pain, prayers disguised as graffiti. I’ve met people with everything materially, yet starving spiritually. And I’ve met those with little, whose words—spoken softly—carried immense light. A single sentence shared over coffee, a reminder of God in a bustling city, can feel like revelation in motion.


In Brierfield, where communities live door to door yet hearts can feel oceans apart, I’ve learned that silence also speaks. Here, writing becomes a bridge—between generations, cultures, and unspoken emotions. A blog post, a letter, a reflection can soften hardened hearts more than loud debates ever could.



The Courage to Leave a Trace



The Prophet ﷺ is remembered not because of monuments or wealth, but because he carried and delivered the most beautiful message ever given to humanity. Through him, God spoke to the world—and the world is still listening.


We may not receive revelation, but we are entrusted with responsibility:


  • To speak truth with wisdom

  • To create with intention

  • To leave behind goodness that points back to God



Don’t underestimate what your words can do. One honest paragraph can heal someone you’ll never meet. One reflection can awaken a heart. One blog post can become someone’s quiet dua answered.


So write—even if your hands tremble.

Create—even if your voice shakes.

Fly—even if the world tells you to stay grounded.


The wings are already yours.

And the sky was never owned by anyone but God.


Create something that lasts longer than you.

And let it be a witness for you, not against you.

 
 
 

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