u/saif2krazzy

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According to Sayyid Sistani, it is required that men recite the Surahs of obligatory Fajr, Maghrib and Isha out loud.

So what should we do when we are required to recite aloud, but other people are nearby (perhaps sleeping), and we are worried our recitation might distract or disturb them?

Also, what if there’s a Maghrib or Isha congregation and you join late? If you join when the imam is in his third or fourth rakʿah, do you have to recite al-Hamd and a Surah yourself, and if so, do you have to recite them aloud, or is it okay to recite quietly?

And if I’m praying individually while there is a congregation nearby or if I’m in a Sunni congregation for the sake of promoting unity, and my own required audible recitation could interfere with their prayer, can I lower my voice or even recite silently for the latter situation?

What are the ruling saccording to Shia fiqh/Sistani in these situations? JazakAllah khair

Tasbihat al-Arba‘ah - the tasbih recited during the third and/or the fourth rakahs of 3 or 4 rakah prayers.

Is this unique to only Shias or do Sunnis say the same or maybe something similar? If the Prophet (SAWW) recited it in front of Sunni narrators surely they must’ve reported it.

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In my area there aren’t any Shia butchers. The non Shia butchers display the fish side by side and the moisture from it transfers.

My friend and I have a habit of going to this park late at night.

It isn't some small neighbourhood park either. It's huge. There's a long walking and biking trail that wraps around the area, and a massive river running through the middle. During the day it's actually pretty nice. Families walk their dogs, people ride bikes, and kids play near the water.

At night, though, it feels completely different.

The night this happened, it was pitch black.

There weren't lights near where we were sitting. The only light came from our phones and the moon reflecting off the river. The water looked almost white, like someone had poured milk across the surface. Everything else around us was swallowed by darkness.

We were sitting on our usual bench beside the river, smoking, talking about random things, and scrolling through our phones after we ran out of things to do.

After a while I looked around and realized just how dark it really was.

I remember turning to my friend and asking, "Do you think there could be people watching us right now?"

He looked up from his phone.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. It's just really dark. What if someone's standing out there somewhere and we can't see them? Or ghosts or something."

He laughed.

"Nah. It's too dark for anyone to see us. And ghosts aren't real."

I immediately told him not to say that.

"Don't jinx us."

That only made him laugh harder.

Beside our bench was a tree with long branches hanging down. The leaves nearly brushed against us whenever the wind picked up.

My friend stood up and started slapping the hanging branches around.

"No ghost can touch me," he said while laughing.

I told him to stop being stupid.

Instead, he kept going.

Eventually I joined him. We were both standing there like idiots, smacking the leaves and joking around.

Looking back, I really wish we hadn't.

About twenty minutes later we decided to call it a night and head home.

Nothing felt strange at first.

We got into his car and started driving out of the park. The exit road is a long stretch surrounded by trees with barely any traffic at night.

That's when we heard it.

BANG.

A violent crash came from the trunk.

Not a little rattle.

Not something shifting around.

It sounded like somebody had punched the inside of the trunk as hard as they could.

I looked over at my friend and laughed nervously.

"Haha. Very funny."

He looked genuinely confused.

"What?"

"The trunk."

His expression changed instantly.

"I swear to God that wasn't me."

The chills that went through my body were immediate.

Neither of us said a word for several seconds.

Then another thought hit both of us at the same time.

What if somebody was actually in there?

We pulled over onto the side of the road.

My friend kept a baseball bat in his car, so he grabbed it and slowly walked toward the trunk. I stayed a few steps behind him.

I could hear my own heartbeat.

He unlocked it and lifted it open.

Nothing.

The trunk was completely empty.

No bags.

No loose objects.

Nothing that could have made that sound.

We just stood there staring into it.

Eventually we convinced ourselves it had to be something mechanical. Maybe something underneath the car. Maybe we'd hit a bump.

Neither of us actually believed that, but it was better than having no explanation.

Eventually he drove me back to his house where my own car was parked.

I got in my car and started driving home.

At first I was just trying not to think about the trunk.

Then I stopped at an intersection a few minutes from my house.

That's when I saw her.

An old woman was standing on the footpath.

She was holding one of those walkers with a built-in seat that elderly people use. She wore a long grey coat that hung almost to her ankles, dark shoes, and a beige headscarf wrapped tightly around her head.

Her back was badly hunched.

She wasn't moving.

Just standing there.

I remember thinking it was strange seeing somebody that old outside alone at nearly eleven o'clock at night.

The traffic light changed and I drove off.

A few minutes later I glanced out my passenger window.

My stomach dropped.

The same woman was standing there.

The exact same woman.

Same coat.

Same headscarf.

Same walker.

Same hunched posture.

I immediately started trying to explain it away.

Maybe it was another old lady.

Maybe I'd mistaken her for someone else.

Maybe she'd crossed through some side streets and gotten ahead of me somehow.

But even as I thought those things, I knew none of them made sense.

There was no possible way she could have gotten ahead of me.

I was driving.

She could barely stand upright.

My hands started shaking on the steering wheel.

I kept checking my mirrors.

I don't know why.

I just felt like something was wrong.

Really wrong.

I sped up.

I just wanted to get home.

About a minute later I approached a roundabout less than a street away from my house.

As my headlights swept across it, I felt every hair on my body stand up.

She was there again.

Standing beside the roundabout.

Waiting.

The exact same woman.

This time she wasn't looking down.

She was looking directly at me.

I still remember her face.

The wrinkles.

The pale skin.

And the smile.

It wasn't a normal smile.

It was too wide.

Too deliberate.

Like she knew something I didn't.

For a second I genuinely couldn't breathe.

My chest felt tight.

My vision started tunnelling.

Every instinct in my body was screaming that I needed to get away from her.

I floored the accelerator.

I don't even remember the drive home after that.

I only remember pulling into my driveway and practically falling out of the car.

I ran inside, locked every door, and sprinted to my room.

I spent the rest of the night staring at my bedroom door.

Every little noise made me jump.

Every shadow looked wrong.

I don't remember falling asleep.

I just remember waking up the next morning exhausted.

I've tried to come up with explanations ever since.

Maybe the noise in the trunk was unrelated.

Maybe the old woman was a coincidence.

Maybe my mind was playing tricks on me.

But here's the part that still bothers me.

The next day I called my friend and told him about the old woman.

I hadn't even finished the story before he interrupted me.

His voice sounded nervous.

He asked me one question.

"Was she wearing a grey coat and a beige headscarf?"

I never told him what she was wearing.

To this day, neither of us will talk about what happened after we slapped those branches.

And neither of us has ever gone back to that park.

This post contains content not supported on old Reddit. Click here to view the full post

My friend and I have a habit of going to this park late at night.

It isn't some small neighbourhood park either. It's huge. There's a long walking and biking trail that wraps around the area, and a massive river running through the middle. During the day it's actually pretty nice. Families walk their dogs, people ride bikes, and kids play near the water.

At night, though, it feels completely different.

The night this happened, it was pitch black.

There weren't lights near where we were sitting. The only light came from our phones and the moon reflecting off the river. The water looked almost white, like someone had poured milk across the surface. Everything else around us was swallowed by darkness.

We were sitting on our usual bench beside the river, smoking, talking about random things, and scrolling through our phones after we ran out of things to do.

After a while I looked around and realized just how dark it really was.

I remember turning to my friend and asking, "Do you think there could be people watching us right now?"

He looked up from his phone.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. It's just really dark. What if someone's standing out there somewhere and we can't see them? Or ghosts or something."

He laughed.

"Nah. It's too dark for anyone to see us. And ghosts aren't real."

I immediately told him not to say that.

"Don't jinx us."

That only made him laugh harder.

Beside our bench was a tree with long branches hanging down. The leaves nearly brushed against us whenever the wind picked up.

My friend stood up and started slapping the hanging branches around.

"No ghost can touch me," he said while laughing.

I told him to stop being stupid.

Instead, he kept going.

Eventually I joined him. We were both standing there like idiots, smacking the leaves and joking around.

Looking back, I really wish we hadn't.

About twenty minutes later we decided to call it a night and head home.

Nothing felt strange at first.

We got into his car and started driving out of the park. The exit road is a long stretch surrounded by trees with barely any traffic at night.

That's when we heard it.

BANG.

A violent crash came from the trunk.

Not a little rattle.

Not something shifting around.

It sounded like somebody had punched the inside of the trunk as hard as they could.

I looked over at my friend and laughed nervously.

"Haha. Very funny."

He looked genuinely confused.

"What?"

"The trunk."

His expression changed instantly.

"I swear to God that wasn't me."

The chills that went through my body were immediate.

Neither of us said a word for several seconds.

Then another thought hit both of us at the same time.

What if somebody was actually in there?

We pulled over onto the side of the road.

My friend kept a baseball bat in his car, so he grabbed it and slowly walked toward the trunk. I stayed a few steps behind him.

I could hear my own heartbeat.

He unlocked it and lifted it open.

Nothing.

The trunk was completely empty.

No bags.

No loose objects.

Nothing that could have made that sound.

We just stood there staring into it.

Eventually we convinced ourselves it had to be something mechanical. Maybe something underneath the car. Maybe we'd hit a bump.

Neither of us actually believed that, but it was better than having no explanation.

Eventually he drove me back to his house where my own car was parked.

I got in my car and started driving home.

At first I was just trying not to think about the trunk.

Then I stopped at an intersection a few minutes from my house.

That's when I saw her.

An old woman was standing on the footpath.

She was holding one of those walkers with a built-in seat that elderly people use. She wore a long grey coat that hung almost to her ankles, dark shoes, and a beige headscarf wrapped tightly around her head.

Her back was badly hunched.

She wasn't moving.

Just standing there.

I remember thinking it was strange seeing somebody that old outside alone at nearly eleven o'clock at night.

The traffic light changed and I drove off.

A few minutes later I glanced out my passenger window.

My stomach dropped.

The same woman was standing there.

The exact same woman.

Same coat.

Same headscarf.

Same walker.

Same hunched posture.

I immediately started trying to explain it away.

Maybe it was another old lady.

Maybe I'd mistaken her for someone else.

Maybe she'd crossed through some side streets and gotten ahead of me somehow.

But even as I thought those things, I knew none of them made sense.

There was no possible way she could have gotten ahead of me.

I was driving.

She could barely stand upright.

My hands started shaking on the steering wheel.

I kept checking my mirrors.

I don't know why.

I just felt like something was wrong.

Really wrong.

I sped up.

I just wanted to get home.

About a minute later I approached a roundabout less than a street away from my house.

As my headlights swept across it, I felt every hair on my body stand up.

She was there again.

Standing beside the roundabout.

Waiting.

The exact same woman.

This time she wasn't looking down.

She was looking directly at me.

I still remember her face.

The wrinkles.

The pale skin.

And the smile.

It wasn't a normal smile.

It was too wide.

Too deliberate.

Like she knew something I didn't.

For a second I genuinely couldn't breathe.

My chest felt tight.

My vision started tunnelling.

Every instinct in my body was screaming that I needed to get away from her.

I floored the accelerator.

I don't even remember the drive home after that.

I only remember pulling into my driveway and practically falling out of the car.

I ran inside, locked every door, and sprinted to my room.

I spent the rest of the night staring at my bedroom door.

Every little noise made me jump.

Every shadow looked wrong.

I don't remember falling asleep.

I just remember waking up the next morning exhausted.

I've tried to come up with explanations ever since.

Maybe the noise in the trunk was unrelated.

Maybe the old woman was a coincidence.

Maybe my mind was playing tricks on me.

But here's the part that still bothers me.

The next day I called my friend and told him about the old woman.

I hadn't even finished the story before he interrupted me.

His voice sounded nervous.

He asked me one question.

"Was she wearing a grey coat and a beige headscarf?"

I never told him what she was wearing.

To this day, neither of us will talk about what happened after we slapped those branches.

And neither of us has ever gone back to that park.

First, I would like to clarify that this question does not relate to me personally. However, I am interested in understanding the ruling on this issue.

I came across this topic while reading through the Ask an Imam website run by the representatives of Sayyid al-Sistani (HA) in the United States. While reading, I found a sister's question that was similar to mine. The response given was:

>For your marriage to be successful and long-lasting, you should be transparent with him from the start and explain that you have fully repented and do not wish to discuss the details. If he chooses not to proceed with the marriage, it may be in your best interest, as he may continue to remind you of your past and the marriage could become very difficult. May Allah guide you to what is best and grant you a righteous spouse.

After reading that, I found another question on the same site where the answer stated:

>You are not required to disclose your previous sins to your spouse. In fact, it is not permissible to disclose your sins to anyone.

These two answers seem difficult to reconcile. One appears to encourage transparency regarding past sins, while the other states that disclosing sins is not permissible.

Am I misunderstanding the context of these answers, or is there a distinction being made that I am missing?

Before hospitals, anesthesia, antibiotics, and modern surgery, how did people handle things like broken bones, infected wounds, or painful problems like impacted wisdom teeth? Did they just live with it, or were there actual treatments that worked even a little? And how much of it was just survival and luck?

Salam everyone,

This is something I've been thinking about for a while, and I'd genuinely like to hear people's thoughts and experiences.

A lot of us in our 20s are told that marriage is important and that we shouldn't delay it unnecessarily. At the same time, we're also told that a man should be financially stable, have a decent job, be able to provide, and ideally have his own place before even thinking about marriage.

The problem is that in today's world, reaching that stage can take a long time. It's not uncommon for someone to be in their mid or even late 20s before they have a stable career, enough savings, or the ability to move out and support a family. Housing is expensive, jobs aren't always secure, and building financial stability takes years.

So what is a young brother realistically supposed to do?

Should he completely hold off on looking for a wife until he has everything sorted out financially? In other words, wait until he has a good income, savings, and the ability to support a household before even starting the search?

Or would it make more sense to start looking earlier, find someone compatible, get the nikah done, and then spend a few years building towards living together and starting married life properly once the financial situation improves?

I know some people will say that a man should never marry until he can fully provide. Others argue that marriage itself is part of the journey and that two people can work toward their future together, provided expectations are clear from the beginning and both families are on board.

Personally, I find this issue confusing because both sides seem to have valid points.

On one hand, I understand the argument that financial responsibility is serious and that marriage shouldn't be entered into without the ability to fulfill obligations. Nobody wants to create unnecessary hardship or start a marriage under constant financial stress.

On the other hand, if someone waits until they're completely "ready," that could mean waiting another 5, 7, or even 10 years. During that time they're trying to avoid fitnah, loneliness, and the challenges that come with remaining single while wanting companionship and emotional connection.

I've also noticed that many sisters understandably want someone who is already established, which makes me wonder whether getting a nikah done early is even realistic for most young brothers today.

So I'm curious what people here think.

If a practicing brother in his 20s doesn't have much money yet, doesn't own a home, and is still trying to establish himself professionally, should he:

1. Focus entirely on building his finances and delay marriage until he's capable of fully supporting a wife?
2. Start searching now, find someone compatible, do the nikah, and agree to live separately until he's financially able to support a household?
3. Take some middle-ground approach?

I'd especially love to hear from people who actually went through something similar, whether it worked out well or not. Looking back, would you have married earlier, waited longer, or done things differently?

JazakAllah khayr.

I know that matter is often said to be neither created nor destroyed, only transformed. Does that mean the atoms that make up our bodies have always existed? If so, where were they before Earth, the Sun, or even the Big Bang? Or does the conservation of matter/energy only apply after the Big Bang?

Could be the funniest quote, something emotional, a line you find yourself repeating all the time or even something you live by everyday.

For me it would have to be “I once was lost, but now I’m found. Dude time - for men”. It's such a stupid line, and so random. Cracks me up every time.

I’m not smelly (at least I hope so), most of the time it works perfect. It’s just that after a few hours the pits don’t smell like how I want it to.

Before anyone says anything about antiperspirants having to be applied the night prior - I’m talking about those situations as well.