Indeed, this is a reminder, so whoever wills may take to his Lord a way.
20
٢٠
inna rabbaka yaʿlamu annaka taqūmu adnā min thuluthayi al-layli waniṣ'fahu wathuluthahu waṭāifatun mina alladhīna maʿaka wal-lahu yuqaddiru al-layla wal-nahāra ʿalima an lan tuḥ'ṣūhu fatāba ʿalaykum fa-iq'raū mā tayassara mina l-qur'āni ʿalima an sayakūnu minkum marḍā waākharūna yaḍribūna fī l-arḍi yabtaghūna min faḍli l-lahi waākharūna yuqātilūna fī sabīli l-lahi fa-iq'raū mā tayassara min'hu wa-aqīmū l-ṣalata waātū l-zakata wa-aqriḍū l-laha qarḍan ḥasanan wamā tuqaddimū li-anfusikum min khayrin tajidūhu ʿinda l-lahi huwa khayran wa-aʿẓama ajran wa-is'taghfirū l-laha inna l-laha ghafūrun raḥīmun
Indeed, your Lord knows, [O Muḥammad], that you stand [in prayer] almost two thirds of the night or half of it or a third of it, and [so do] a group of those with you. And Allāh determines [the extent of] the night and the day. He has known that you [Muslims] will not be able to do it and has turned to you in forgiveness, so recite what is easy [for you] of the Qur’ān. He has known that there will be among you those who are ill and others traveling throughout the land seeking [something] of the bounty of Allāh and others fighting for the cause of Allāh. So recite what is easy from it and establish prayer and give zakāh and loan Allāh a goodly loan. And whatever good you put forward for yourselves - you will find it with Allāh. It is better and greater in reward. And seek forgiveness of Allāh. Indeed, Allāh is Forgiving and Merciful.
Surah Al-Muzzammil (The Enshrouded One) — Full Text
Ayah 1
يَـٰٓأَيُّهَا ٱلْمُزَّمِّلُ
O you who wraps himself [in clothing]1
This surah opens with one of the most intimate and tender addresses in the entire Quran. Allah is calling out to Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him, who was wrapped up in his garments — some scholars say he was bundled in a cloak after the overwhelming experience of receiving revelation, while others say he was simply wrapped up for sleep. Either way, there's something deeply personal about this moment — God is gently rousing His beloved messenger, almost like a parent waking a child. The word 'Muzzammil' itself carries this sense of someone cocooned and sheltered. It's a beautiful reminder that before the heavy responsibilities came, there was this tender, personal connection between the Prophet and his Lord.
Ayah 2
قُمِ ٱلَّيْلَ إِلَّا قَلِيلًا
Arise [to pray] the night, except for a little -
Here comes the instruction — stand in prayer at night, but not the entire night. Allah is telling the Prophet to get up and pray through most of the night, with the exception of a small portion reserved for rest. Night prayer, or Qiyam al-Layl, would become one of the defining spiritual practices of the Prophet's life. There's something about the stillness of nighttime that strips away all distractions and leaves you alone with your thoughts and your Creator. This wasn't meant as a punishment or a burden — it was preparation. The Prophet was about to carry the heaviest message in human history, and he needed this spiritual training ground to build the strength for it.
Ayah 3
نِّصْفَهُۥٓ أَوِ ٱنقُصْ مِنْهُ قَلِيلًا
Half of it - or subtract from it a little
Allah gives flexibility right away — pray half the night, or reduce it a little from that half. This is such a compassionate detail, showing that even in acts of devotion, God doesn't demand rigid perfection. You're given a range, a spectrum to work within based on your capacity. It's almost like a training program where the coach says, 'Do what you can, but push yourself.' The fact that Allah builds in this room for adjustment tells you something profound about the nature of Islamic worship — it's meant to be sustainable, not something that burns you out on day one.
Or add to it, and recite the Qur’ān with measured recitation.
Or you can add to the half — pray a bit more if you have the energy — and recite the Quran with slow, measured, deliberate recitation. The Arabic word 'tarteel' here is key. It doesn't mean to rush through the words or mumble them mechanically. It means to recite with care, with rhythm, letting each word land and resonate. Think of it as the difference between speed-reading a novel and savoring every sentence of a poem. This early instruction about how to engage with the Quran set the tone for all of Islamic spirituality — the Quran is not just meant to be read, it's meant to be experienced, absorbed, and lived.
Ayah 5
إِنَّا سَنُلْقِى عَلَيْكَ قَوْلًا ثَقِيلًا
Indeed, We will cast upon you a heavy word.1
Now Allah reveals why all this nighttime preparation is necessary — a heavy word is coming. This 'heavy word' is the Quran itself, the full weight of divine revelation that the Prophet would carry and deliver to the world. And heavy it truly was — not just spiritually, but even physically. The Prophet would sweat profusely during revelation even on cold days, and his camel would buckle under him when revelation came while he was riding. The night prayers were essentially strength training for the soul, building the spiritual endurance needed to receive and transmit God's message. You can't carry something this weighty without serious preparation.
Indeed, the hours of the night are more effective for concurrence [of heart and tongue]1 and more suitable for words.2
Rising at night for prayer is hard — Allah acknowledges that directly. But that difficulty is precisely what makes it so powerful. When you drag yourself out of a warm bed in the dead of night to stand before God, there's a sincerity and intensity to that act that daytime worship rarely matches. The verse says night prayer is 'more potent' and 'more suitable for the word' — meaning the Quran hits differently at 3 AM when the world is silent and your ego is quiet. During the day, your mind is scattered across a hundred tasks, but at night, there's an alignment between your heart, your tongue, and your mind that makes every word of prayer land with full force.
Ayah 7
إِنَّ لَكَ فِى ٱلنَّهَارِ سَبْحًا طَوِيلًا
Indeed, for you by day is prolonged occupation.
This verse acknowledges a simple reality — daytime is busy. You have things to do, people to see, a message to deliver, a community to build. The Prophet's days were packed with the demanding work of prophethood, from teaching and counseling to navigating the hostility of the Quraysh. Allah is essentially saying, 'I know your days are full, which is exactly why the night is your time for deep spiritual connection.' It's a principle that still resonates — if your days are consumed by work and responsibilities, carving out even a small portion of the night for reflection and prayer can be transformative. The night becomes your sanctuary when the day won't give you one.
And remember the name of your Lord and devote yourself to Him with [complete] devotion.
Remember the name of your Lord and devote yourself completely to Him. The Arabic word 'tabattil' here means to cut yourself off from everything else and dedicate yourself wholly to God — not permanently as a monk would, but in those moments of worship. When you stand in prayer, really stand in prayer. Don't let your mind wander to tomorrow's meetings or yesterday's arguments. This kind of total devotion, even if only for a few minutes, recalibrates your entire being. It's the spiritual equivalent of a hard reset — you come back to everything else with more clarity, more patience, and more purpose.
[He is] the Lord of the East and the West; there is no deity except Him, so take Him as Disposer of [your] affairs.1
He is the Lord of the East and the West — there is no god but Him — so take Him as the one who handles your affairs. This verse is building the Prophet's trust in God's absolute sovereignty. When you realize that the same God who controls the sunrise and the sunset, who governs everything from the eastern horizon to the western one, is the one managing your life — that's a level of reassurance nothing else can match. The word 'Wakeel' means a trustee, someone you hand your affairs over to with complete confidence. It doesn't mean you stop working or planning — it means you stop worrying, because you've entrusted your situation to the most capable hands in existence.
And be patient over what they say and avoid them with gracious avoidance.
Be patient with what they say, and walk away from them gracefully. This was revealed during the Meccan period when the Prophet was facing relentless mockery, slander, and abuse from the Quraysh. They called him a madman, a poet, a sorcerer — anything to discredit him. And Allah's instruction wasn't to fight back or match their hostility. It was to be patient and to disengage with dignity. That phrase 'avoidance gracious' is so powerful — it's not a bitter, resentful withdrawal, but a composed, dignified stepping away. Sometimes the most powerful response to someone's nastiness is simply refusing to let it pull you down to their level.
And leave Me with [the matter of] the deniers, those of ease [in life], and allow them respite a little.
Leave Me to deal with those who deny the truth — those who live in luxury and comfort while rejecting God's message. Just give them a little more time. There's a quiet intensity to this verse that's almost chilling. Allah is telling the Prophet, 'Step back — I'll handle this.' The deniers may seem untouchable in their wealth and ease, but their reprieve is temporary. That phrase 'a little' echoes through the verse like a countdown. This was a source of comfort for the Prophet and the early Muslims who were being persecuted by wealthy, powerful Meccans — the reminder that worldly comfort doesn't equal divine approval, and that accountability was approaching.
Ayah 12
إِنَّ لَدَيْنَآ أَنكَالًا وَجَحِيمًا
Indeed, with Us [for them] are shackles and burning fire.
With Us are heavy shackles and a blazing fire. The tone shifts dramatically here as Allah begins describing what awaits those who persist in denial. These aren't metaphorical shackles — the Quran is painting a vivid picture of the consequences that come with rejecting truth after it's been made clear. The juxtaposition with the previous verse is striking — those living in luxury and ease are reminded that a very different reality awaits. It's meant to shake people out of complacency, to make you realize that the comfort of this world is temporary and that what comes after is permanent.
Ayah 13
وَطَعَامًا ذَا غُصَّةٍ وَعَذَابًا أَلِيمًا
And food that chokes and a painful punishment -
And food that chokes and a painful punishment. Imagine food that you can't swallow and can't spit out — it just sticks in your throat, causing constant agony. This is the Quran's way of turning something as basic and pleasurable as eating into a source of torment. For the wealthy Meccan elites who indulged in feasts while the poor suffered around them, this image would have been particularly striking. Everything they took for granted — comfort, food, safety — would be inverted. The Quran often uses these visceral, physical descriptions not to be gratuitously graphic, but to make the abstract reality of the afterlife concrete and unavoidable in your imagination.
On the Day the earth and the mountains will convulse and the mountains will become a heap of sand pouring down.
On that Day, the earth and mountains will shake violently, and the mountains will become like heaps of flowing sand. Picture the most solid, immovable things you know — massive mountain ranges that have stood for millions of years — reduced to sand dunes pouring and collapsing. The imagery is deliberately chosen to dismantle any sense of permanence you might attach to this world. If even the mountains can't hold together on that Day, what chance does human arrogance have? For the Arabs of the Prophet's time, who lived among imposing desert mountains and relied on landmarks for navigation, this image would have been deeply unsettling — the very anchors of their world dissolving like sugar in water.
Indeed, We have sent to you a Messenger as a witness upon you just as We sent to Pharaoh a messenger.
We have sent to you a Messenger as a witness over you, just as We sent a messenger to Pharaoh. Now Allah draws a direct historical parallel — the Prophet Muhammad's situation mirrors that of Moses being sent to Pharaoh. This comparison works on multiple levels. The Quraysh leaders, like Pharaoh, were powerful, arrogant, and dismissive of the divine message. The Prophet, like Moses, was delivering a message of truth to those who didn't want to hear it. And the implied warning is clear — look at what happened to Pharaoh. History has a pattern, and those who ignore God's messengers tend to meet the same fate. It's Allah telling the Quraysh, 'You've seen this story before. You know how it ends.'
But Pharaoh disobeyed the messenger, so We seized him with a ruinous seizure.
But Pharaoh disobeyed the messenger, so We seized him with a devastating grip. Short, sharp, and final — that's how this verse reads. Pharaoh, for all his power and armies and claims of divinity, was destroyed utterly. The word used for 'seizure' in Arabic suggests something sudden, overwhelming, and inescapable. This is the punchline of the historical parallel from the previous verse. The Quraysh knew the story of Pharaoh and his drowning in the Red Sea — it was part of the cultural memory of the region. So this wasn't an abstract threat. It was a concrete reminder that empires and tyrants, no matter how powerful, crumble when they stand against God's plan.
Then how can you fear, if you disbelieve, a Day that will make the children white-haired?1
If you disbelieve, how will you protect yourselves on a Day so terrifying that it turns children's hair gray? This is one of the most vivid and haunting images in the Quran. Gray hair on children — the universal symbol of aging and stress appearing on the youngest and most innocent among us — conveys a horror that words alone can't capture. The Day of Judgment will be so overwhelming that even children, who are normally carefree and unburdened, will be visibly affected by its terror. The question 'how will you guard yourselves' is rhetorical — the answer is you can't, not without faith. It's a final urgent appeal to take this seriously while there's still time.
The heaven will break apart therefrom;1 ever is His promise fulfilled.
The sky itself will split apart on that Day. His promise will certainly be fulfilled. When even the sky — that vast, seemingly indestructible canopy above you — tears open, you know the old order is completely finished. The sky in Arabic poetry and thought represented stability, the grand dome that held everything together. Its breaking apart signals the total collapse of reality as we know it. And then comes that short, definitive statement — His promise will be fulfilled. No ifs, no maybes, no negotiations. Everything Allah has promised about that Day will come to pass exactly as described. The certainty in this verse is absolute and uncompromising.
Indeed, this is a reminder, so whoever wills may take to his Lord a way.
This is a reminder — so whoever wills, let them take a path to their Lord. After all the warnings and vivid imagery, the tone shifts to something almost gentle. This is simply a reminder, not compulsion. The choice is yours. Allah lays out the truth, shows you the consequences of each path, and then steps back to let you decide. That phrase 'whoever wills' is one of the most important concepts in the Quran — it affirms human free will and personal responsibility. No one is being forced into faith. The door is open, the path is lit, but you have to choose to walk through it yourself. That's the dignity God grants every human being.
Indeed, your Lord knows, [O Muḥammad], that you stand [in prayer] almost two thirds of the night or half of it or a third of it, and [so do] a group of those with you. And Allāh determines [the extent of] the night and the day. He has known that you [Muslims] will not be able to do it1 and has turned to you in forgiveness, so recite what is easy [for you] of the Qur’ān. He has known that there will be among you those who are ill and others traveling throughout the land seeking [something] of the bounty of Allāh and others fighting for the cause of Allāh. So recite what is easy from it and establish prayer and give zakāh and loan Allāh a goodly loan.2 And whatever good you put forward for yourselves - you will find it with Allāh. It is better and greater in reward. And seek forgiveness of Allāh. Indeed, Allāh is Forgiving and Merciful.
This final verse is remarkably long and came much later than the rest of the surah — some scholars say up to ten years later, after the migration to Medina. It circles back to the night prayer from the opening verses with a beautiful update. Allah acknowledges that the Prophet and his companions were standing in prayer for two-thirds of the night, or half, or a third — pushing themselves to the limit. And then comes the divine concession — God knows you can't keep an exact count of the hours, so He's lightened the load. Recite what is easy for you from the Quran. This is such a compassionate adjustment, recognizing that among the believers there would be sick people, travelers, those working hard to earn a living, and those fighting in God's cause. Everyone's situation is different, and the religion accommodates that. The verse then broadens into a comprehensive spiritual program — establish prayer, give zakah, lend to Allah a goodly loan through charity, and know that whatever good you send forward, you'll find it waiting for you with God, better and greater than anything you can imagine. It closes with a command to seek God's forgiveness, because no matter how much you pray or give, you still need His mercy. It's the perfect ending — starting with the intimacy of night prayer and expanding into a complete blueprint for living a faithful life.