by Ibtisam Gani
Islam calls believers to rise above ego, to speak well of others even when they do not return the favour, and to preserve family bonds no matter how difficult the test. If these teachings were truly followed, much of today’s bitterness would dissolve.
It hurts to witness what is happening to relationships today. Love, which once felt effortless, now seems conditional. Friendships that once brought peace have become fields of rivalry, and even family ties are strained by ego and greed. People are too busy proving themselves, too guarded to care deeply, and too fearful to be genuine. We have begun to measure love by gain and kindness by return. Somewhere between self-love and selfishness, the warmth that made human connections sacred has been lost.
We live in an age where appearance carries more weight than emotion. Social media has trained us to display love rather than feel it, to collect moments for others instead of living them for ourselves. We compare our lives to those we see online, forgetting that real relationships are not about perfection, but presence. People no longer have the patience to understand, the time to listen, or the sincerity to stay. In the constant chase for validation, success, or control, we have abandoned the one thing that once defined our humanity: empathy.
Even blood relationships, once the safest refuge, are losing their essence. The warmth that once existed among siblings, cousins, and close relatives has faded. Today, family members speak against one another, twist words, and invent stories to satisfy their pride or jealousy. Those who should be a source of comfort often become the first to criticise. It is painful when love turns into competition, when trust is replaced by suspicion, and when affection becomes formality. What was once a bond by blood now feels like a relationship maintained out of duty.
Even the sacred bond of Nikah has come under strain. Instead of nurturing love, understanding, and companionship, many couples are preoccupied with possessions, status, and display. The beauty of simplicity in marriage has been buried under gold, gifts, and social expectations. Dowries, lavish weddings, and public exhibitions of wealth have replaced emotional depth, spiritual intimacy, and mutual respect. Marriage, which should be a sanctuary of trust and care, often bends under the weight of comparison, pride, and society’s hollow standards.
Yet faith reminds us of something higher. In Islam, relationships hold profound spiritual meaning. The Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) emphasised the importance of silat-ur-rahm, the maintenance of kinship ties, and warned against severing them. He taught that true belief is reflected not only in worship but also in how one treats others. A smile is charity, forgiveness is strength, and kindness to relatives is a path to divine mercy. Islam calls believers to rise above ego, to speak well of others even when they do not return the favour, and to preserve family bonds no matter how difficult the test. If these teachings were truly followed, much of today’s bitterness would dissolve.
The decline of empathy is visible in small, daily moments: a mother absorbed in her phone while her child cries unnoticed, a friend offering sympathy only when it benefits their image, or a partner keeping score instead of sharing quiet joys. Conversations are interrupted, love letters replaced by emojis, and trust reduced to cautious calculation. Promises are measured by what was given against what was received.
Yet, even amid this detachment, a pulse of authenticity survives. Hope endures in small gestures: someone remembering your birthday, holding your hand in darkness, forgiving when they were wronged, or speaking the truth when lies would be easier. Love does not always shout; often, it whispers.
To reclaim that warmth, we must abandon what is comfortable but empty: performative caring, conditional faith, and transactional friendship. We must find the courage to be vulnerable, to share silence without unease, to grieve without seeking validation, and to love without counting. It means listening to understand rather than to reply, and choosing compassion over pride.
Perhaps the world has not grown cold; perhaps it is we who have allowed distance to seep between hearts. If we can remember how to stay warm, by showing up and being real, love may yet recover its meaning.
(The author is an Advocate at the J&K High Court. Ideas are personal.)
