In the name of Allah, the Most Compassionate, the Most Merciful
I often ask myself: why is there dasond? why is there naandi? why is money collected in majalis?
With respect to my teacher — who is like a gate — and to the Imam, who is Light, through them I seek the spiritual strength of the Imam of the Time, so that this reflection may remain filled with light.
I know there are many waez and historical answers to these questions… but today, instead of going into history, I want to pause… and reflect on something deeper.
Something that can itself bring showers of answers — and silence these questions from the root.
Every relationship rests on two pillars: knowledge (ilm) and love (ishq).
When I look at the world, I see how, when someone falls in love, he or she forgets everything else — and moves forward only with the desire to reach the beloved. So many sacrifices are made — of wealth, of family, of habits, of reputation, sometimes even of life.
All of this only to gain a human companion for 70–80 years.
And when the beloved sees this kind of devotion, they also give back — even sharing their wealth and treasures.
Now I reflect: the Imam of the Time — the King of both worlds — is the possessor of infinite knowledge, the treasure that Allah has placed within him.
The Qur’an reminds me:
“Allah is the Light of the heavens and the earth.” (24:35)
“We have sent you with the Truth as a bearer of glad tidings and a warner. And there is no nation without a guide.” (35:24)
This treasure is open — but only if my heart burns with love. If my inner light is weak, I do not see Him. My love weakens. Doubts creep in. And doubt… it kills the soul.
Without love, questions turn into doubts. So I must ask myself: if even an ordinary human lover is tested with sacrifices, then how can I expect the Master of both worlds not to test me?
And what is sacrifice? Sacrifice means to draw near — qurbani comes from qurbat — to give up selfish desires.
One of those desires is wealth.
When I earn, I feel pride. When I earn, I become attached. And when I am asked to spend for my True Beloved, suddenly my ego questions me: Why does the Imam need this money? Why should I give dasond? Why should I pay majalis fees?
But then I remember — Allah says in the Qur’an:
“Never will you attain righteousness until you spend from that which you love.” (3:92)
If I want admission into a spiritual university, how can I expect it to be free? We all know — people rarely value what comes without cost.
That is why there is a token — a symbolic fee. A reminder that money is earned through deeds, and so my offering must be pure, halal — not tainted.
If I give, but in my heart there is ego, or show-off, then that means either my money is impure, or my intention is corrupt. In both cases, it holds no value. The Imam does not accept such offerings.
In today’s time, money is dearer than even children. It never leaves my neck. That is why most people fail this test, and their sacrifice is wasted.
But if my heart is truly filled with love, if I see nothing but the Imam of the Time, then I do not worry. I am ready to sacrifice anything. Yes, I may still ask questions — but those questions only deepen my love, not my doubt.
And when the Imam sees such sincerity, He opens the door of His mercy. He showers His true love upon me.
So whether it is dasond or majalis fees, these are not just payments — they are symbols of sacrifice. Through them, the soul advances.
The Qur’an gives sacrifice a very high station:
“Their meat will not reach Allah, nor will their blood. But what reaches Him is your piety.” (22:37)
This is why without sacrifice, I cannot truly value what I receive.
If doubt enters, I know it is like a seed of disease. If I let it grow, it will turn into a tree that blinds me, until I start seeing the Imam not as my Beloved, but as an ordinary man.
This is a deadly disease of the soul. It leads people into envy, into rebellion, even against the very one who is the King of both worlds. And we see this today — on social media, where some who call themselves “ex-Ismailis” make videos against the Imam, seeking false joy while in reality burning in spiritual fire.
But if my heart carries the peace of Paradise, and the fire of true love — why should I care for such voices?
Like a horse with blinders, I must keep my eyes fixed — only on my Beloved.
So when questions arise, I must search for answers — but through love, not through doubt.
And if answers don’t come, I must pray:
Mawla, increase my knowledge. Protect me from the hellfire of doubt. O Imam, whatever happens, never let go of my hand. Never let me wander into dark thoughts. You alone are my True Beloved. Everything else… is a deception.
Ameen.
