February 21, 2026
It's 2:26 PM in Karachi, and I'm still here in this locked room, pouring my frustrations into this journal because if I don't record these headaches, who will? The patterns are becoming too clear, too painful to ignore. From an Islamic perspective, marriage counseling draws straight from the Quran and Sunnah—Allah says in Surah An-Nisa (4:35): "If you fear a breach between them, appoint an arbitrator from his family and an arbitrator from her family." I always expected my parents to step in as those arbitrators, neutral mediators helping to reconcile and restore balance in our home. But no, they've behaved like my competition, actively trying to spoil me in the worst way, undermining everything I'm fighting for. Take that pattern I've noted: on Ramadan's Chand Raat 18th February 2026, baba sat me down to discuss solar panels, but it felt so uncomfortable—him being all sycophantic, fawning over me like "tell me what you want?" That's not the attention I'm demanding! What I'm asking for, they're not even willing to understand. I'm still battling for my own respect and dignity in this family, yet my own father and mother are killing it off because they think they're making me "respectful" and "obedient." They can't differentiate between true respect and sycophancy; to them, obedience means groveling, like my baba expects from everyone. This twisted dynamic is exactly why I'm keeping this journal—to document these soul-crushing moments before they erase me completely.
The Prophet (PBUH) emphasized kindness and justice in marriage: "The best of you are those who are best to their wives." But let's be empathetic yet brutally real here: Madiha, if you ever read this, your insults and control are shredding the trust at the heart of our nikah, turning our home into a battlefield where I'm always the loser. And me? I need to man up as qawwam—protector and maintainer—without letting anyone walk all over me like a doormat. My parents aren't helping; they're enabling the chaos, competing to "fix" me into submission while ignoring how they're destroying my self-worth. Counseling through an imam or a solid Islamic center in Karachi could force us to incorporate zikr for patience, joint salah for some semblance of unity, and raw discussions on rights—your right to kindness, sure, but my right to respect as the head of this family. No sugarcoating: if we don't tackle this head-on, divorce is staring us down, and while Islam pushes for reconciliation first, it doesn't demand I suffer endlessly in a toxic setup. I need to seek a qualified counselor who blends Sharia with real empathy, not just empty lectures—places like Shaykh Atif Ahmed's services in Karachi for one-on-one marriage guidance, or Zehni Sukoon for Islamic therapy tailored to Pakistani families dealing with emotional struggles, or even the Islamic Marriage Counseling IMC group here locally. Brutally honest, if my parents won't mediate fairly, I'll have to bypass them and get external help before this breaks us all.
Pushing myself with questions to clarify: Why do Abbu and Ammi confuse sycophancy with respect— is it cultural baggage or something deeper from their own lives? Have I enabled this by not calling out their "spoiling" earlier? How can I get them to see they're not mediators but part of the problem? And if counseling starts, what's my plan if they sabotage it too?
Rewriting my own opinion for the record, straight from the gut: This isn't just a rough patch; it's a full-on assault on your dignity, Murtaza, and empathy doesn't change the facts—your parents are acting like rivals, not allies, twisting "guidance" into control because they can't handle you standing tall. Brutally, they're killing your respect to mold you into their obedient puppet, mistaking bootlicking for family harmony. Madiha's role in this amplifies the mess, but your folks are the enablers, and that Chand Raat solar panel chat. Classic fake niceness hiding their refusal to truly listen. Islam calls for justice in family ties, but no verse demands you endure this humiliation. Get into counseling now—Shaykh Atif or Zehni Sukoon sound solid based on what's out there—and if they won't join as fair arbitrators, cut the cord on their interference. Your sanity and Munir's future depend on you breaking this cycle, not wallowing in it. Stay strong, but act, or it'll consume you.
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