Ya Ali Madad.
Dear brothers and sisters... dear seekers of the Divine Light...
Welcome.
Welcome to Ishq e Karimi.
Before we say another word...
Let us pause for just a moment.
Let us close our eyes — even for a second.
And ask ourselves...
When was the last time we gave something up — truly gave something up — not because we had to...
...but purely out of love?
That question, my dear friends, is the very heartbeat of what we are about to explore together today.
Because on the twenty-seventh of May, twenty twenty-six — Muslims and Ismailis across the world will come together to observe one of the most profound, most moving, most spiritually charged moments in the entire Islamic calendar.
Eid ul Adha.
The Festival of Sacrifice.
The Festival of Devotion.
The Festival of Love so absolute...
...it asks everything of us.
And today — together — we are going to journey into the very soul of this blessed occasion.
We will walk through the desert sands of history.
We will stand at the foot of a mountain in Mina.
We will feel the trembling hand of a father.
And we will reflect — through the lens of our beautiful Ismaili tradition — on what Eid ul Adha is truly asking us to sacrifice.
Stay with us.
Because this is a story that will change the way we see this Eid — forever.
Let us go back.
Way back.
Back to a time before cities, before maps, before the world as we know it.
To a man who walked the earth with nothing but faith in his heart — and the Name of God on his lips.
His name was Hazrat Ibrahim — peace be upon him.
Hazrat Ibrahim, peace be upon him, was not born into comfort. He was tested from the very beginning. Thrown into fire by his own people. Exiled from his homeland. Separated from those he loved. And through every trial, every hardship, every dark night of the soul...
...he never wavered. He never doubted. He simply said:
My Lord. I am here. Command me.
And God, in His infinite wisdom, gave this man a gift — a son — late in his life, when hope itself seemed to have grown old.
His name was Hazrat Ismail — peace be upon him.
Can we imagine?
Can we imagine the love Hazrat Ibrahim, peace be upon him, must have felt for this child? The years of longing... the prayers whispered in the darkness... and finally — finally — a son.
A boy who laughed... who ran... who grew... who carried his father’s eyes and his father’s faith.
And then...
...came the dream.
In the stillness of the night, Hazrat Ibrahim, peace be upon him, received a divine command. Not once. Not twice. But three nights in a row — the same vision descended upon him like a truth that cannot be unseen.
O Ibrahim — sacrifice your son.
Let us sit with that for a moment.
That silence.
That weight.
That impossible moment.
This was not something any human heart could easily receive. This was the most beloved thing Hazrat Ibrahim, peace be upon him, possessed — and the Divine was asking him to let it go.
But here is what makes Hazrat Ibrahim, peace be upon him, the Khalilullah...
...the Friend of God.
He did not run from the command.
He did not bargain.
He did not pretend he had not seen what he had seen.
Instead, he went to his son — his young, brilliant, faithful son — and he told him the truth.
He said:
O my son... I have seen in a dream that I must sacrifice you. What do you think?
And Hazrat Ismail, peace be upon him — this remarkable young soul, this prince of faith — replied with words that have echoed through eternity:
O my father... do as you are commanded. You will find me, if God wills, among the patient ones.
Subhan Allah.
Let us pause here and truly feel this.
Father and son — walking together, toward an altar of love, hand in hand.
They were not walking toward death.
They were walking toward complete surrender to the Divine Will.
And when Hazrat Ibrahim, peace be upon him, laid his son down... when he turned the blade...
God called out:
O Ibrahim — you have fulfilled the vision. Indeed, this is the clear trial.
And in place of Hazrat Ismail, peace be upon him — a magnificent ram was provided.
The sacrifice had already happened.
Not in the physical act —
— but in the moment Hazrat Ibrahim, peace be upon him, chose the Divine... over everything else.
That moment of complete surrender —
— that is Eid ul Adha.
Now, dear friends —
This is where our beautiful Ismaili tradition invites us to go deeper — together.
In Ismailism, we are always asked to look beyond the zahir — the outer — and seek the batin — the inner, the hidden, the luminous reality beneath the surface.
Our tradition, rooted in the light of the Imamat, teaches us that every physical act in religion carries a spiritual meaning. Every pillar has a soul. Every rite has a ta’wil — an interpretation — that speaks directly to the transformation of the human heart.
So what is the batin of Eid ul Adha?
What is it that we are truly being asked to sacrifice — within ourselves?
Let us reflect together.
First —
The sacrifice of the ego.
In our tradition, the ram that is sacrificed is understood symbolically as the nafs al-ammara — the commanding lower self. That part within us that pulls us toward greed, arrogance, selfishness, and heedlessness.
The knife is the aql — the divine intellect, the light of reason that the Imam of the Time nourishes within us.
And so on this day, we are gently invited to look inward and ask ourselves —
What ego are we willing to let go of today?
What attachment is standing between us and the Divine?
Second —
The sacrifice of worldly attachment.
Hazrat Ibrahim, peace be upon him, was asked to give up the thing he loved most. And here, the Ismaili understanding is exquisitely beautiful.
Our Imams — may Allah grant them long life — have consistently guided us that the greatest veil between the mumin — the faithful — and the Divine Light is not hatred, not disbelief —
— it is excessive love of the dunya.
Excessive attachment to wealth, to status, to comfort, to the things of this world that we have mistaken for permanence.
Eid ul Adha whispers to us — gently, lovingly —
Are we willing to loosen our grip?
Not necessarily on things —
— but on the idea that those things define us.
Third —
The sacrifice of the self in service to the Imam of the Time.
In Ismaili theology, the relationship between the mumin and the Imam is not merely one of follower and leader. It is the relationship of the seeker and the Light. Of the beloved and the source of all love.
Hazrat Ali — peace be upon him — once shared that the highest form of worship is to surrender the will entirely to the Hujjat of God — the living proof of the Divine on earth.
Hazrat Ibrahim’s, peace be upon him, surrender to the Divine command was, in its deepest essence, the surrender of a murid to the Pir.
It was the surrender of a lover to the Beloved.
And this, dear seekers, is the profound spiritual invitation of Eid ul Adha for all of us as Ismailis —
Can we love the Imam of the Time the way Hazrat Ibrahim, peace be upon him, loved God?
Can we trust the guidance we are given — even when the world around us questions it?
That is the real qurbani.
The real sacrifice.
And Eid ul Adha, of course, is not only about inner spiritual sacrifice.
It is also about us — our community, our togetherness, our shared humanity.
About making sure that no one around us is hungry or forgotten.
The tradition of distributing the meat of the sacrifice into three parts — one for ourselves, one for our family and neighbors, and one for those in need — is a beautiful, living expression of what our faith calls us toward.
Our beloved Imam of the time, Mawlana Hazar Imam — may Allah grant him long life and health — has throughout his Imamat emphasized the dignity of every human being. His work through the Aga Khan Development Network reaches the most vulnerable corners of the world — providing food, education, health, and hope.
This Eid ul Adha, let us carry that spirit in our own small ways.
Let us give generously.
Let us reach out to a neighbor.
Let us remember those who have less.
Because the truest form of sacrifice...
...is when our giving costs us something —
— and we give anyway, with love.
As we approach the twenty-seventh of May, twenty twenty-six...
Let us sit together with a quiet reflection.
Eid ul Adha does not ask us to physically sacrifice everything we love.
But it does ask us to sit still...
...and look honestly at our lives.
And ask ourselves —
Is there something we are clinging to — fear, ego, resentment, an old wound — that is standing between us and the version of ourselves the Imam sees when he looks at us?
Is there someone we have not forgiven?
Is there a generosity we have withheld?
Is there a prayer we keep postponing?
This Eid —
Let that be our qurbani.
Let us place it on the altar of our intention.
And with the name of Allah —
— let it go.
Because the Divine did not take Hazrat Ismail’s, peace be upon him, life.
What the Divine took was Hazrat Ibrahim’s, peace be upon him, attachment to it.
And what the Divine gave back —
— was freedom.
Was peace.
Was the most profound nearness.
That nearness —
— that qurb —
— is what this day is truly about.
As we prepare to celebrate Eid ul Adha on the twenty-seventh of May, twenty twenty-six...
May our hearts be filled with the light of Hazrat Ibrahim’s, peace be upon him, faith...
...the patience of Hazrat Ismail’s, peace be upon him, surrender...
...and the love that our beloved Imam kindles within all of us.
May this Eid bring peace to our homes...
...healing to our hearts...
...and blessings upon every soul that is dear to us.
May Allah accept our ibadaat, our du’as, and the quiet sacrifices we make every day — that no one sees... but Him.
Eid Mubarak.
Ya Ali Madad.
And before we close —
If this reflection touched our hearts even a little... if it gave us one moment of stillness, one spark of meaning...
Then let us do something small that costs us nothing, but carries so much —
Let us share this with a friend, a family member, someone who might need these words today. We never know whose heart is quietly searching for exactly what we are about to pass along.
Let us subscribe to Ishq e Karimi — because every week, we sit together in reflection, in story, and in the spiritual insights of our beautiful Ismaili tradition. This is a community of seekers — and there is a place here for all of us.
And let us visit ishqekarimi.com — for articles, resources, and deeper explorations of our faith.
We are not alone on this path.
We walk it together.
Ya Ali Madad.
