I have been thinking of resuming writing for quite some time now and today I finally mustered up the courage to visit the 'create post' page of my blog. I feel a certain anxiety knocking down my senses at the moment. Writing used to come so naturally once and now it comes with effort. What is good about it is that it is still has not abandoned me altogether. Like old friends, who have all gone about their ways, it still, at times, comes back and reminds me of the connection we once shared. All good things eventually come to an end - I just hope that does not happen with me and writing, at least not until this transient life comes to an end... What prompted me to write down this post after such a long time is my recent meeting with one of my teachers, with whom I had absolutely lost contact during the last five years. Life is very demanding. Its phases, very complicated. The responsibilities it encumbers us with, endless... زندگی تیرے تعاقب میں یہ لوگ اتنا چلتے ہی...
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But I fear their are more layers on this verse which I am unable to decode. What does he mean by saying and living a life is itself worship? (He must be saying this in terms of order?)
When I read it for the first time, the thought that struck me was the religious notion of everything that a Muslim (or a momin, for that matter) does is worship IF it is done for acquiring the pleasure of your Lord. I am no good at decoding or explicating religious matters so one must consult a scholar for the explanation of such thoughts. For me, it pertains to little things in life, for example, loving your parents not just because you love them but because your Lord has asked you to do so... :) Something like... and I know I am bad at explaining poetry... So apologies for any fuzziness that you may find in my comments.
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Regards.