Mohamed Miah | The Narratives
Money, wealth, gold, silver, diamonds — none of it is real.
It’s all an illusion built by human hands. A system of belief stronger than any religion, where faith isn’t placed in God, but in paper, plastic, and pixels.
Who gave gold its value?
Who decided diamonds were rare?
Who said a printed note or a digital number in a bank account defines a man’s worth?
Humans did. And ever since, we’ve been enslaved by the very things we created.
From the moment mankind discovered how to measure and trade, they learned how to oppress. To be the leader. To stay the leader. To control the earth, not care for it.
They claimed ownership of what was never theirs — the rivers, the seas, the mountains, and the air.
They drew borders across God’s land and called them countries.
They built walls, wrote laws, printed flags, and called it civilization.
But civilization, at its heart, became a competition for control.
The strong dictated what was valuable, and the weak learned to obey.
They put a price on water and called it progress.
They taxed light, warmth, and energy — and called it innovation.
They placed satellites in the sky, claiming the heavens as if they were shareholders of God’s creation.
They even claim parts of the moon — as if eternity can be measured in square miles.
And through all of this, man forgot the simplest truth: nothing truly belongs to him.
Not the land he walks on. Not the breath he takes. Not even the body that carries his soul.
Some religions began to treat God the same way — offering Him what they offered their kings.
Milk, food, gold, silver, money.
As if God — the Eternal, the Self-Sufficient — needs anything from creation.
But these offerings reveal more about the human condition than faith itself:
a deep desire to buy favour, to bargain for mercy, to own even divinity.
“To Him belongs whatever is in the heavens and whatever is on the earth.”
— Qur’an 2:284
Everything we claim, everything we hoard, already belongs to Him.
When we are buried, the wealth we obsessed over will be gone, and the gold we wore will outlast our bones.
When we die, there are no brands, no numbers, no keys, no vaults.
Just a white shroud and a soul laid bare.
A soul that cannot hide behind possessions, status, or reputation.
So what colour is your soul?
Not gold. Not silver. Not diamond.
But something deeper — a reflection of your deeds, your humility, your truth.
Does your soul shine with sincerity?
Or has it darkened with arrogance, greed, and envy?
Because on that Day, wealth will not save you, and titles will not protect you.
“The Day when neither wealth nor children will benefit anyone, except the one who comes to Allah with a pure heart.”
— Qur’an 26:88–89
The pure heart — that’s the only real currency.
One that isn’t printed, mined, or transferred.
It’s built through patience, kindness, and the remembrance of God.
So ask yourself:
When your name is called, and your deeds are weighed —
what colour will your soul be in front of the Almighty?
Will it be light — glowing with mercy, forgiveness, and truth?
Or will it be heavy — darkened by greed, pride, and deception?
Every lie told for power, every injustice ignored, every time we chose money over mercy — it stains the soul.
And every act of compassion, every sincere prayer, every tear shed in sujood — it purifies it.
The colour of your soul is the story you’ve written in silence.
A record no human can fake, forge, or own.
So before you chase what glitters, remember —
gold only shines in this world. Your good deeds shines in the next.
© Mohamed Miah | The Narratives
The Narratives - Mohamed Miah 
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