The Islamic Arts Festival I attended yesterday was a truly transformative experience. It reached the heart, the intellect, and the soul. What I expected to be a typical walk-around festival turned out to be a full staged production—an artistic journey that reminded me of the beauty Allah placed in expression, rhythm, story, and sound.

“Allah is Beautiful and He loves beauty.” (Sahih Muslim)

Yesterday, I witnessed beauty through performance, poetry, scholarship, and faith.

The young sister who performed “I Wear My Hijab” delivered poetry and rap with so much honesty and courage. She spoke of struggle, hope, and identity—reminding me of the ayah:

“And whoever holds firmly to Allah has indeed been guided to a straight path.” (Qur’an 3:101)

The African drumming—the duff—brought the room to life. Rhythm has always been part of our tradition. Even the Prophet ﷺ allowed the duff to be played during celebrations. It reminded us that expression can be worship when rooted in remembrance.

Ustadh Ubaydullah Evans’ lecture was incredible.

He spoke about how poetry and rhythmic language are woven into the Qur’an itself, showing how Allah communicates to our hearts through eloquence and cadence. He quoted āyāt from Surah ar-Rahmān, where Allah repeats:

“Then which of the favors of your Lord will you deny?” (Qur’an 55:13)

That repetition felt like divine poetry—like Allah reciting directly to us.

“Indeed, in their stories is a lesson for those of understanding.” (Qur’an 12:111)

And that is exactly how the event felt—every performance was a story with a lesson.

The one-woman show by Dr. Suad was breathtaking. She traveled through time—different eras, emotions, and spiritual landscapes. Her performance reminded me of the hadith: “The most beloved deeds to Allah are those that bring benefit to others.” (Sahih al-Jami’)

Her storytelling benefitted everyone in the room.

The segment on Palestinian Tatreez touched my heart deeply. Every stitch, symbol, and pattern carries memory, resilience, and identity.

“And We have certainly created man… and We know what his soul whispers.” (Qur’an 50:16)

Tatreez is stitching the whispers of generations into cloth.

This was definitely a 16+ event—not because it was inappropriate, but because the depth required reflection and dialogue.

It ended at 9:30, but its impact remains. It felt like every verse of this ayah was alive inside the hall:

“And We gave you hearing, sight, and hearts so that you may reflect.” (Qur’an 32:9)

Yesterday was reflection through art.