The humid air of São Paulo settled over the small, cluttered apartment as Mateo sat before his laptop. He was a second-generation Brazilian Muslim, a software developer who had finally secured the promotion his rival, João, had been seeking for years.
Yet, as he watched the office group chat erupt in congratulations, a cold stone formed in his chest. He did not want João’s success removed; he simply wished it were his own.
But the thought lingered, curdling into a desire that João’s new responsibilities would crush him, leaving the open chair for Mateo to fill.
Mateo closed his laptop and walked to the balcony, overlooking the grey, sprawling city. He lit a pipe of incense, the scent sharp and grounding.
He remembered a teaching from the Imam (AS) that had haunted him for years: 'The jealous person considers the cessation of a blessing from the person whom he envies to be a blessing upon himself.' He had been doing exactly that.
He was not seeking a gift; he was seeking a theft.
The distinction was clear in the Quran: do not wish for what God has favoured one person over another, but rather, ask Him for a similar blessing. 'O God, grant me such a gift,' is a prayer of faith.
'May his gift vanish so it may be mine,' is a prayer of despair. Mateo realised that his selfishness was not merely a flaw of character; it was a barrier he had erected against the infinite bounty of the Divine.
He had assumed God’s generosity was a fixed pie, but the Qur'an reminds us that if the ocean were ink for His words, it would run dry before they were finished (18:109).
Tears blurred his vision as he dropped the incense and prostrated on the prayer mat. The selfishness that had made him aggressive and isolated was a shadow, not a substance.
He stood, his heart lighter, and finally sent a message to João: 'Congratulations. I am truly happy for you.
' It was not a lie; it was a surrender to the truth that his brother's blessing did not diminish his own, and that on the Day of Reckoning, every soul will plead for itself, recompensed fully for what it has done (16:111).
Story Panels
The humid air of São Paulo settled over the small, cluttered apartment. Mateo sat before his laptop, the weight of the promotion pressing on his chest, a cold stone forming in the silence.
He watched the office group chat erupt in congratulations. His rival, João, was the target of the praise. Mateo’s heart, which should have found peace, instead curdled into a shadowed desire.
Mateo closed his laptop and walked to the balcony, the weight of his thoughts making his shoulders feel like they were made of lead. He needed air, or perhaps he needed to scream.
He lit a pipe of incense, the scent sharp and grounding against the smell of wet concrete and exhaust. He remembered a teaching from the Imam (AS) that had haunted him for years, a truth he had tried to ignore.
Mateo: “The jealous person considers the cessation of a blessing from the person whom he envies to be a blessing upon himself.”
He had been doing exactly that. He was not seeking a gift; he was seeking a theft. He had assumed that God’s generosity was a fixed pie, a limited resource that could be taken from one to be given to another.
The distinction was clear in the Quran: do not wish for what God has favoured one person over another, but rather, ask Him for a similar blessing. 'O God, grant me such a gift' is a prayer of faith. 'May his gift vanish' is a prayer of despair.
He realised that his selfishness was not merely a flaw of character; it was a barrier he had erected against the infinite bounty of the Divine. He had forgotten that God’s words, if the ocean were ink, would run dry before they were finished (18:109).
Tears blurred his vision as he dropped the incense and prostrated on the prayer mat. The selfishness that had made him aggressive and isolated was a shadow, not a substance. In that moment, the weight of the city felt lighter.
He stood, his heart lighter, the storm inside him quieting. He looked at the phone, the device that had been the source of his torment, now just a tool in his hand.
He finally sent a message to João. It was not a lie; it was a surrender to the truth that his brother's blessing did not diminish his own. The words felt light, like a stone finally lifted from his chest.
He looked out at the city, the rain finally ceasing. The first hints of dawn were breaking over the horizon, a reminder that even the darkest night yields to the light.
On the Day of Reckoning, every soul will plead for itself, recompensed fully for what it has done (16:111). But for now, Mateo had chosen the path of faith, and the barrier between himself and his brother had dissolved, leaving only the light of God’s mercy.
لِيَجۡزِيَهُمُ ٱللَّهُ أَحۡسَنَ مَا عَمِلُواْ وَيَزِيدَهُم مِّن فَضۡلِهِۦۗ وَٱللَّهُ يَرۡزُقُ مَن يَشَآءُ بِغَيۡرِ حِسَابٖ
“That God may reward them [according to] the best of what they did and increase them from His bounty. And God gives provision to whom He wills without account”
— Quran, Surah An-Nur (The Light), Chapter 24, Verse 38 (quran)