Ya-Sin يس

Makki · 83 ayat · 83 with pondering

• Ayah 1Two letters heard at a thousand bedsides were first said to the living, and their meaning is left, honestly, with the One who said them.
• Ayah 2Allah swears by His own Book, and the word He chooses for it first pictured a bridle-strap: wisdom that holds you back before you bolt.
• Ayah 3Before it became creed about him, this was a sentence said to him, locked three times, while his own city called him a fraud.
• Ayah 4Three words that sound like a footnote are a second verdict: his road runs true, it is the nearest, and he was still walking it.
• Ayah 5The Book comes down like rain, from One beyond reach and full of mercy; what it does depends on the ground.
• Ayah 6Heedlessness is not having never heard; it is a page whose dots have worn away, and the warning is sent precisely because of it.
• Ayah 7The word fitted them as a pivot fits its socket, matching what they chose to be; and it says most, not all.
• Ayah 8The collar forces the head up, like a camel lifting its muzzle from the water and refusing to drink: refusal looks a lot like pride.
• Ayah 9A barrier ahead and one behind, pressed so close they become the blindfold: and the man inside them thinks the road is clear.
• Ayah 10When a warning and its absence weigh the same, the warning has not lost its weight: the scale in the listener's hand has broken.
• Ayah 11After four ayat of collars and walls, the first light: the one who follows the reminder and fears the Merciful unseen is handed good news.
• Ayah 12The One who needs no introduction raises the dead and keeps every footprint, even the ones the wind fills in by evening.
• Ayah 13A town with no name is struck like a coin from Makkah's die, so every town after it can find its own face there.
• Ayah 14Two messengers are denied at once, and the answer is not a thunderbolt but a third person: help arrives as company.
• Ayah 15'You are only skin like us': the oldest reason for refusing a messenger is that he is ordinary, and it is still common.
• Ayah 16Called liars, the messengers do not trade insults; they call the one Witness who cannot be fooled, and say the same sentence again, firmer.
• Ayah 17'Our only duty is clear delivery' is not a shrug: it lifts the burden of results and raises the bar on clarity.
• Ayah 18Out of arguments, the town reads a bird's flight: you have brought us bad luck, so be silent or be stoned.
• Ayah 19The bird you blame is tied to your own neck: misfortune travels with what we believe and do, not with the person who reminded us.
• Ayah 20From the furthest edge of the city, a nameless man hurries in on foot to stand beside strangers; his first words are 'my people'.
• Ayah 21The man gives his town a test anyone can use: follow those who want nothing from you and walk the road they point to.
• Ayah 22'Why should I not worship the One who first broke ground on me' is asked of himself, and put to everyone listening.
• Ayah 23Taking a second god is seeing double where there is only One; if the Merciful decides, no adopted helper can plead or rescue.
• Ayah 24He passes the verdict on himself first: if I joined them, I would be lost, like milk poured into water, dissolved and no longer found.
• Ayah 25Facing those about to kill him, he declares faith in 'your Lord', who is theirs as much as his, and asks to be heard.
• Ayah 26With no gap after his killing, he is told to enter the Garden, and his first wish there is for the people who killed him.
• Ayah 27He wished his people knew how his Lord forgave him and honoured him, so that they might walk the same road.
• Ayah 28After they killed him, Allah sent no army of angels against the town; it was never needed, and it was never their due.
• Ayah 29A town that needed a mob to silence one man was ended by one shout, its silence named like a fire not yet cold.
• Ayah 30Mockery is worn like armour against every messenger; regret is the moment that armour is lifted off and nothing is left covering you.
• Ayah 31Generation after generation went over the ridge roped together, and not one string of them has ever been led back.
• Ayah 32Every generation that went over the ridge flows back, like water from every slope, into one place before Him, and not one is missing.
• Ayah 33The first sign offered for the resurrection is a grain in dead ground: the thing you eat every day is the argument you keep missing.
• Ayah 34Dead ground was not merely given enough to live on; it was given gardens to hide in and springs breaking open like eyes.
• Ayah 35Your hands hold fruit they both did and did not make, and the ayah asks why that has not yet shown on you as thanks.
• Ayah 36After the evidence comes the verdict: everything made comes as one of a pair, and the One who made them has none.
• Ayah 37Every evening He draws the day off the night like a skin, and you find that darkness was underneath all along.
• Ayah 38The sun is named for a horse that will not stand still, yet it runs to a resting place the Mighty, the Knowing measured.
• Ayah 39The moon is a traveller with a lodging for every night, returning at the month's end like the old stalk left on a palm.
• Ayah 40Sun, moon, night and day each turn in their own whorl like a spindle in the hand, and none may overtake another.
• Ayah 41Everyone who would ever be born rode in one laden hull, folded inside the few aboard it, and that is the sign you were carried.
• Ayah 42Every vessel since the ark, and every camel crossing a shimmering desert, is a copy made from His mould for carrying you.
• Ayah 43On open water a cry for help has no tribe to answer it, and the ayah names the only One who still hears.
• Ayah 44You were spared only by mercy, and given life like the morning sun climbing to its height: real, bright, and already turning.
• Ayah 45They are told to raise a shield both ways so that mercy may reach them, and the sentence breaks off where their answer should be.
• Ayah 46The problem was never a shortage of signs; it was a shoulder turned to every one of them as it arrived.
• Ayah 47The poor will be fed either way; the only question this ayah leaves you is whether the provision passes through your hand.
• Ayah 48They ask "when?" to avoid asking "am I ready?", and the surah answers not with a date but with how it will find them.
• Ayah 49The Hour does not wait for a dramatic moment; it finds two men pulling at the same cloth, a deal neither finished nor folded.
• Ayah 50At the blast there is no time to tie the last thread to those you love, and no road home but the one to Allah.
• Ayah 51The Quran mentions graves only as they are being left: the horn sounds, and people slip out of the earth like a birth.
• Ayah 52They wake asking who raised them from their beds, and the answer is a promise the Most Merciful made and the messengers kept telling them.
• Ayah 53The same single blast that put out one town now gathers every human being who ever lived, without a blink's delay, into His presence.
• Ayah 54On that Day nobody receives anything but their own deeds handed back, and not one good thing is shaved off.
• Ayah 55The people of the Garden are not idle; they are busy the way a child absorbed in play is busy, and never tired.
• Ayah 56After graves and judgement, the passage ends on a shaded couch shared with a spouse: the seat of one who has arrived for good.
• Ayah 57Fruit for delight, not hunger, and a Host who says "name it": what you call for when nothing is missing shows who you are.
• Ayah 58The greeting goes the wrong way round: the Owner of everything speaks the first word of peace to the ones He owns.
• Ayah 59The verb for this separation is the one for sorting things that look identical, so the crowd being divided had been standing together.
• Ayah 60Nobody thinks they worship Satan, which is exactly the point: obeying the whisper of your father's oldest enemy is the worship it forbids.
• Ayah 61The straight path is not a tightrope but the main road home, offered to a traveller lost on the lanes.
• Ayah 62The size of the crowd that went astray is a warning, not a reassurance, and the failure it names is not intelligence but thinking.
• Ayah 63One word, "this", turns a lifetime of warnings into something standing in front of you, and the warnings are called a promise.
• Ayah 64The same contact with fire that once could straighten a bent stick now only burns, because a gift was covered over, day after day.
• Ayah 65On the Day the talking stops, the mouth that argued for the body is sealed, and the body itself takes the stand.
• Ayah 66Your eyes are open this morning because He has, so far, not willed otherwise; the ayah is less a threat than a description of restraint.
• Ayah 67Every step you take, forward or back, is lent; this ayah describes the loan being called in, and then does not call it.
• Ayah 68A long life turns a person round like an arrow with a broken nock; the ayah asks what that should teach while there is strength.
• Ayah 69The Quran is not the most beautiful poem ever written; it is a thread tied round your finger, so you remember why you were made.
• Ayah 70The warning is breath on embers: it reaches everyone, but it only catches where something in the heart is still alight.
• Ayah 71A small boy can lead a hundred camels; the ayah asks who made that possible, and whose ownership you are really exercising.
• Ayah 72The animal kneels to be loaded, and even to the knife, because a softness was put into it that no human trainer created.
• Ayah 73A grateful horse, in Arabic, is one on which a little fodder shows; gratitude is a favour made visible in a life.
• Ayah 74After a list of gifts that came from Allah alone, people turn for help to whatever stands nearer to hand, and call it hope.
• Ayah 75They took gods to protect them and ended up as their gods' bodyguards: the helpers turned out to need help.
• Ayah 76Between their words and His there is a compulsory pause: let what they say not roughen your heart, for He knows what is behind it.
• Ayah 77A few drops of water became a person who can argue, and he argues first against the One who gave him that power.
• Ayah 78A man crumbles a dead bone and asks who could revive it; the ayah answers that he has forgotten how he himself began.
• Ayah 79The sceptic asked who could revive the bones; the reply fills his blank with the One who made them first and knows every part.
• Ayah 80Two green twigs, still dripping sap, rubbed together into flame: the One who brings fire out of water can bring life out of dust.
• Ayah 81Beside the heavens and the earth, raising a human being is small, and when no one will say "yes", Allah answers His own question.
• Ayah 82The sceptic measured Allah by human effort; the reply is the lightest word in the language: He says "Be", and the dead stand up.
• Ayah 83After every argument the surah ends in praise, not threat: the keys of everything are in His hand, and every road leads to Him.