Homes Without Hearts
They say home is where the heart is—but what happens when the heart is captivated by the glitter of the outside world?
In today’s rapidly changing society, especially in culturally rich regions like Kashmir, traditional Muslim households find themselves quietly fraying at the edges. The influence of Western pop culture, consumerist lifestyles, and digital saturation is not just changing our homes—it’s emptying them of meaning.
The issue isn’t about makeup, jeans, or selfies—these are only outward signs of a deeper drift: the loosening of the spiritual and emotional threads that once held our families close. The concept of qana’at (contentment), the dignity of hijab, the strength of sabr (patience), and the sanctity of nikah (marriage) are increasingly overshadowed by self-centric ideals, consumer glamour, and an unchecked desire for validation.
Today, many young women feel compelled to present polished, perfect versions of themselves to the outside world—carefully filtered photos, trend-conscious fashion, confident smiles. Yet behind closed doors, these same women often feel depleted, overwhelmed, and emotionally distant. Homes receive what is left behind, while the outside world enjoys their prime energy and attention.
Men, too, are affected. Many husbands no longer engage in meaningful companionship. Fathers are emotionally absent, glued to screens. Siblings drift past each other like strangers. Everyone is physically present, yet relationally disconnected. Love is replaced by “likes,” and togetherness by fleeting distractions.
The Prophet beautifully said:
“The best of you are those who are best to their families.”
(al-Tirmidhi, 3895)
Yet today, many of us are at our worst within the walls of our own homes—impatient, indifferent, and disconnected from the people we claim to love the most.
“O you who have believed, protect yourselves and your families from a Fire whose fuel is people and stones…”
(Quran, 66:6)
This verse invites us to protect not only our families’ faith but also their emotional and moral well-being.
If advocates of women’s dignity and empowerment were truly sincere, the focus would be on building environments that ensure real safety and honour—such as separate educational institutions, women-only clinics, secure workspaces, and respectful public norms. But too often, the emphasis is on full integration into mixed, highly competitive spheres—spaces that can, in reality, leave many women more vulnerable and emotionally burdened.
Hijab, after all, is not merely about veiling—it is about creating a dignified barrier between women and patriarchally dominated, often exploitative, public spheres. It aims to provide women a harmonious space, free from invasive stares, emotional instability, or the toxic relational entanglements that often result in infidelity, divorces, or the breakdown of family harmony. In this sense, hijab is a protective ethic, not a dress code—a principle that prioritizes emotional safety, spiritual well-being, and moral clarity in both private and public life.
This isn’t a rejection of women’s rights. Rather, it is a call for thoughtful balance. A woman’s contribution to society should never come at the cost of her inner peace, family role, or spiritual stability. Careers and public presence are valuable—but so are kindness at home, guidance to children, and the nurturing power of motherhood. When these dimensions work in harmony, women truly flourish.
It’s painful to see how the sacred is slowly becoming strange. The same hijab that once symbolized strength is now misunderstood as backwardness. Meanwhile, superficial expressions of beauty and liberation are rewarded—though they often lead to burnout, disconnection, and insecurity.
In a world where the female body is often commodified and womanhood is reduced to surface-level aesthetic spaces we see rising loneliness, unstable relationships, and a generation spiritually unanchored.
This is not a call to isolate ourselves or reject progress. It is a gentle reminder:
Let’s not drown in the noise of Western culture and forget the silent power of prayer at home.
Let’s not chase temporary validation and miss the eternal value of sincere connection.
Let our homes once again echo with compassion, shared meals, the calmness of faith, and the embrace of meaningful relationships.
Our values don’t confine—they clarify . They don’t suppress—they safeguards. They offer a framework where dignity and spirituality can thrive—both for men and women.
Let’s make our homes reflections of that Prophetic example. Let women be honoured in every role, and men be merciful leaders. Let families be built on faith—not performance. And let love be genuine—not just another filtered image for display.
Because no matter how dazzling the world outside becomes, if we lose what’s inside—faith, warmth, and family—what are we really left with?
Dr. Rameez Ahmad is a Senior Research Fellow in Sociology from Aligarh Muslim University.