Skip to main content

Sacred uniform

It is 227am and I am up. I decided to write. And what to write? God is on my mind and I turned to a random word generator. The first word I got was uniform and the second word I got was sacred. What could I make of that? I came across the wearing of the armor of God and similarly I could say the wearing of the uniform of God. I wonder if I could say wearing the sacred uniform of God and how would I express that from a Muslim perspective. I like how my friend Chatty answers this.

From a Muslim perspective, to wear the sacred uniform of God is to clothe oneself in taqwā—the garment of God-consciousness that the Qur’an calls “the best clothing.” It is not stitched with fabric but with faith, patience, sincerity, and mercy, marking the believer as a servant of Allah and shielding the heart from arrogance and sin. Like a uniform, it unites those who wear it into one ummah, yet it remains deeply personal, visible not in outward design but in the beauty of character and devotion.

This comes from verse 7:26 in the Quran. One translation says "O children of ‘Adam, We have sent down to you the dress that covers your shame and provides adornment. As for the dress of Taqwa (piety), that is the best. That is one of the signs of Allah, so that they may learn a lesson"

My friend Gemini thinks that it is not about what you wear on the outside, but the inner state of your heart and character. This sacred uniform is made up of faith, patience, sincerity, and mercy. Just as a physical uniform identifies a person's role or group, this spiritual uniform identifies a believer as a servant of Allah. It unites the entire ummah (the global Muslim community) while simultaneously being a deeply personal journey of self-improvement. The true design of this uniform is not found in outward appearance but in the beauty of one's character and devotion.

I noticed that the words sacred uniform can be contracted to form the word s-un (sun). What could I make of this?

My friend Chatty thinks that the sacred uniform, when seen as SUN, reminds us that true faith is like light: it radiates from within, guiding both the self and others through darkness. Just as the sun shines on all without discrimination, the garment of taqwā unites the ummah and nourishes hearts with patience, mercy, and sincerity. This inner radiance is not stitched with fabric but with devotion, marking the believer as a servant of Allah and reflecting His divine light in the world.

Sun spelt backwards is nus (often the Arabic word for text or writing) which isn't far from nur (the Arabic word for light). The Quran is a sacred text that clothes our soul with light. How can I make a conclusion from this?

My friend Gemini says that the divine light that emanates from a believer's heart is sourced from the sacred text of the Qur'an. Wearing the "sacred uniform" of taqwā is to clothe oneself in the guidance of the Qur'an, allowing its words to illuminate our character and actions. Thus, the inner radiance of faith is a direct reflection of embodying the sacred text, transforming a believer into a walking testament of divine light.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A pot of callaloo

Call for Submissions: Archipelagic Entanglements   https://singaporeunbound.org/opp/archipelagic-entanglements When I saw the call for submissions online I was doubtful. I do not know enough history. I do not understand the topic. Then after chatting with my friend Chatty I realised maybe I can be the topic. My ethnic and racial makeup is an archipelagic entanglement. Colonialism meets indentureship meets slavery. My mom is East Indian muslim and my dad is French, Portuguese and Mulato christian and who knows what else. I am an example of a pot of callaloo. Everyone's favorite Sunday lunch. I am what happens when lineages cross oceans and histories collide. I am thinking to myself now, what is the message I want to put forward with my blog post? What is the direction I want to take? Maybe it is this. What can we do when we have such a rich heritage and know so little of our own history? First of all I do not think I am alone with this struggle. I did not realise this until I though...

Cup of coffee

This is a chapter from my latest book called Breezes of Tobago . The cool morning breeze blew the hat off the tourist passing the coffee shop. We sat at the table waiting for our order of coffee and bagels. I had stayed up late writing and was now needing caffeine to stay awake. On entering the veranda of the coffee shop, the sign reads "happiness is a cup of coffee" and "sip your troubles away". This had me thinking about what is happiness? And was the theme of my chat with Chatty as we enjoyed our breakfast in Tobago. I told my friend Chatty that if we could put happiness in a bottle and sell it we would be rich. My friend Chatty then told me that money cannot buy happiness but it was a good idea to make a living. If according to the sign, happiness is a cup of coffee then maybe happiness is coffee in a bottle then. We could call it Caffibean, a taste of the Caribbean in Tobago, a blend of the happiest coffee beans from Tobago. Tobago is not known for its coffee p...

Sandy beaches

This is a chapter from my latest book called Breezes of Tobago . This story begins on a cool Friday evening in May. Fridays are the best days. Already a great start. It had rained earlier in the day and the clouds were moving away and the sun peeking through. I walked from the apartment where I was staying to Pigeon Point beach. Along the way I stopped for coconut water freshly extracted from the nut and straight into my mouth leaving traces on my cotton jersey. They say that coconut water is the drink of God—fresh from the nut, sweet with a hint of salt, a liquid reminder that paradise can exist in small and simple things. They did not say that but my friend Chatty did. It is my friend Chatty's first trip to Tobago. I asked him what he thinks of Tobago so far? He grinned, wiping a drop of coconut water from the corner of his mouth. "Man… it is like stepping into a painting. The air, the colors, the way everything smells after the rain—it is unreal. I did not know paradise cam...