Just A Joke

"The dress would have been beautiful if you didn't look seven months pregnant."

Everyone burst into laughter. She laughed too. It was just a joke, after all. Just words. Harmless banter among friends, right?

"The mind you have to call yourself a hijabi. You call this flimsy thing hijab? Better to remove it and let's know where you belong. Shior!"

She said it in the heat of an argument with her friend. Anger does that…makes you say things you don't mean. Or maybe things you do mean but would never say out loud if you were calm. Either way, it was just a comment. She'd apologize later. Or maybe she wouldn't. Her friend would get over it.

"Can you not be this daft, please?"

They were working on a group project. One of the not-so-bright members offered their opinion on the topic. It was wrong. Completely wrong. So she said what everyone else was thinking. Someone had to.

"No one asked for your opinion, guyy. What do you even know?"

Another group project. Another wrong answer. Why did people who didn't know anything insist on speaking?

"O boy, sometimes you should keep quiet. What do you know about the dress we're referring to? Is it not all these unpopular brands you buy from?"

“Auntie please, don't tell me that! I'm not your child! If God knew you deserved one, He would have given you!"

"Sir, I don't need your lectures on how to talk. You're my father's mate but still a cab driver. I'll listen to you when it's not you wheeling me around."

"You would have looked so breathtaking, but your acne... what a pity."

These were things she had uttered to other people in very random moments. Like you and me, they were just comments. Just reactions. Just words thrown out in frustration, in jest, in the heat of the moment. She didn't think much of them. Words are cheap, after all. They cost nothing to say and even less to forget.

But the people she uttered them to? They went home and felt small. One stared at her reflection in the mirror and wondered if she really did look pregnant when it was just hormonal bloating. Another considered taking off her hijab entirely…maybe she wasn't doing it right anyway. Someone replayed the word "daft" over and over in their head until they started believing it. Another person went silent in group settings, too afraid to offer an opinion ever again.

To her, these were just words. To the victims, they were sharp strikes on wounds already struggling to heal.

Then one day, her ten-year-old niece…a child who didn't yet understand the weight of words…looked at her and said something about her two failed marriages. Something cutting. Something that hit too close to home.

The room went silent. Everyone walked on eggshells around her when it came to marriage. No one dared bring it up. So she had never really gotten a dose of her own medicine.

Until now.

And it wasn't a sweet feeling.

She sat there, stunned, as the words settled into her chest like stones. She thought about her first breakup, how it had shattered her. How the pain from that relationship had bled into the second one, poisoning it before it even had a chance. She thought about the nights she cried herself to sleep, the self-doubt, the wondering if maybe she was the problem.

And for the first time, she wondered: Maybe it really isn't my village people. Maybe it's not the spouse. Maybe it's my fate. Or maybe... maybe it's just me.

Allah warns us in the Qur'an:

"O you who have believed, let not a people ridicule [another] people; perhaps they may be better than them; nor let women ridicule [other] women; perhaps they may be better than them. And do not insult one another and do not call each other by offensive nicknames." (Qur'an 49:11)

The Prophet Muhammad (peace and blessings be upon him) said:

"Whoever believes in Allah and the Last Day should speak good or remain silent." (Sahih al-Bukhari)

Notice the simplicity of this hadith. There is no third option. Either your words are good, or you stay quiet. There is no room for "just joking," no exception for "heat of the moment," no justification for "they needed to hear it."

In another hadith, the Prophet (peace and blessings be upon him) said:

“A person may say a word that he thinks is harmless, yet it causes him to fall into the Fire of Hell as far as the distance between the east and west." (Sahih al-Bukhari)

This is the terrifying reality of the tongue. A single sentence, uttered without thought, spoken in jest, said in passing…can have consequences we never intended. And the worst part? We often don't even realize the damage we've caused.

Words have a way of carelessly lodging themselves in places we can't see. You might forget what you said five minutes after you said it, but the person on the receiving end might remember it for years.

The girl you called "pregnant-looking"? She might develop an eating disorder trying to fix a body that was never broken.

The one whose hijab you mocked? She might take it off entirely, convinced she's not good enough to wear it.

The person you called "daft"? They might stop contributing in spaces where their voice was needed, their confidence destroyed by a single careless word.

The woman you reminded of her childlessness? She might go home and cry herself to sleep, feeling like a failure in a test she had no control over.

The man whose profession you belittled? He might carry the shame of that moment every time he picks up passengers, wondering if his livelihood makes him less valuable as a human being.

You don't get to decide how your words land. You only get to decide whether or not you say them.

The woman in this story didn't wake up one day and decide to be cruel. She wasn't malicious. She was just... careless. She said what came to mind without filtering it through the lens of mercy. She treated her tongue like a tool with no consequences, as if words were weightless.

But words are not weightless. They carry the power to build or destroy, to heal or wound, to uplift or crush. And we will be held accountable for every single one of them.

The Prophet Muhammad (peace and blessings be upon him) also said:

"When the son of Adam wakes up in the morning, all of his limbs humble themselves before the tongue and say: 'Fear Allah regarding us, for we are only a part of you. If you are upright, we will be upright, and if you are crooked, we will be crooked.'" (Sunan al-Tirmidhi)

Your tongue sets the tone for your entire existence. If it is reckless, your life will reflect that recklessness. If it is disciplined, rooted in mercy and mindfulness, everything else will follow.

If you recognize yourself in this story…if you've ever said something you regret, if you've hurt someone with careless words, if you've realized too late power your tongue wields, know that Allah is the Most Merciful. He accepts repentance. He forgives. But forgiveness begins with awareness, and awareness begins with taking responsibility.

Make this dua regularly:

"Allahumma ahsin khuluqi kama ahsanta khalqi."

(O Allah, make my character beautiful just as You made my physical form beautiful.)

And remember the dua of Prophet Musa (peace be upon him):

"My Lord, expand for me my breast [with assurance], and ease for me my task, and untie the knot from my tongue that they may understand my speech." (Qur'an 20:25-28)

Ask Allah to make your tongue a source of good, a tool for building others up, a means of spreading mercy instead of pain.

Before you say something—anything—ask yourself:

Is it true?

Is it necessary?

Is it kind?

If it doesn't pass all three filters, it doesn't need to be said.

The Prophet Muhammad (peace and blessings be upon him) said:

"Whoever guarantees me what is between his jaws and what is between his legs, I guarantee him Paradise."(Sahih al-Bukhari)

Guard your tongue. Recognize its power. Understand that every word you speak is being recorded, and that on the Day of Judgment, you will be asked about every single one of them.

The woman in this story learned the hard way that words have consequences. That what we say in jest can become someone else's trauma. That careless comments can echo in someone's mind long after we've forgotten we said them.

But the lesson isn't just for her. It's for all of us.

Before you comment on someone's appearance, remember that they might already be struggling with how they see themselves.

Before you mock someone's faith practice, remember that they might be hanging on by a thread, trying their best.

Before you belittle someone's intelligence, remember that everyone has value, even if their contributions don't align with your expectations.

Before you remind someone of their pain, remember that you have no idea what they're carrying.

Your words matter. They matter more than you think. So choose them carefully, speak them with mercy, and remember that silence is better than speech that wounds.

Because one day, the mirror will turn. And when it does, you'll wish you had been kinder.