These days—perhaps always—people vanish with other people’s money, hearts, dignity. Then the elders gather. They don’t bring justice; they bring compromise. Not restitution—but a discounted forgiveness, masked as wisdom.

• “Let’s return 50% or 60%. It’s better than nothing.”
• “We must think about unity.”
• “Let’s take the middle path.”

But what if the middle path now leads straight to hell? What if we’ve confused peace with rot?

These so-called elders—standing atop podiums carved out of patriarchy—have experience, yes. But sometimes experience is just the wisdom of corruption that learned how to cloak itself. They seek to unite families by dividing justice, to protect religion by executing doubt, and to mediate by murdering truth.

We live in a society where:

• The more religious a man looks, the more deceit we expect.
• Prayer is followed by theft.
• Brotherhood by betrayal.
• Inheritance turns into a battlefield before the body is cold.

And the sad part? We’ve accepted this.

We don’t even flinch anymore.

Is our collective consciousness corrupt?

Absolutely.

We have built an entire moral architecture on hypocrisy. We say “Balance is the key”—but balance between what? Between justice and injustice? Between sin and forgiveness? Between oppression and patience?

Where is the Übermensch, the towering figure with a staff, a vision, and the audacity to demand truth and crush falsehood—not for ego, but for balance? Not to rule, but to resurrect?

But no. We let things go.

• We say “move on.”
• We say “this world is temporary.”
• We say “Allah will deal with it.”

Yet this world—this glorious dunya—was created by the very God we claim to worship. And when the angels asked Allah why He would place man on earth, citing bloodshed and corruption, He replied:

“I know what you do not.”

And still, every year, the number of poor increases.

Every year, we romanticize pain and spiritualize injustice.

Every year, we pass the poor on the streets—eyes filled with dreams—and we don’t even feel guilty.

We talk about them in salons, tweet about them in English.

But nothing changes.

We’ve turned even sin into a social activity.

We no longer feel ashamed of what we used to hide in basements.

Now we sit in groups and giggle while a girl dances until midnight, like it’s a victory over morality itself.

And yet we will post a Quran verse the next day.

And let’s not even talk about religious hypocrisy.

We kill Muslims for eating cows.

We burn non-Muslims because we think they insulted our Prophet.

We defend God’s messengers with murder, as if the Creator of the cosmos needs our illiterate rage to protect His legacy.

“He swore by the Prophet. He swore by Moses. He swore by Christ.

But we, insecure in our own belief, post Facebook statuses to prove we believe.”

How pitiful.

Why do we need to scream “I believe” on social media if we really believe?

Why do we need hashtags if we’re not hollow?

What is our goal?

Nobody cares.

Not our elders. Not our scholars. Not our influencers.

No one asks anymore: Why are we here?

And when someone dares to ask, they’re silenced by a motivational quote:

“It’s okay. Move on. Life is short.”

But no—it’s not okay.

It’s not okay to steal, cheat, hurt, and then wash it off with a prayer rug and a fake smile.

It’s not okay to make a joke out of piety while wearing religion as a costume.

It’s not okay to disrespect this world that Allah made beautiful, just because someone told you it’s temporary.

This dunya is not a motel.

It’s a testament to Divine craftsmanship.

A field of trust. A canvas of potential.

A contract signed by God, handed to us, the most undeserving.

And when we treat it like a dumpster, we insult not only ourselves—but Him.

So here we are.

Mosques full. Hearts vacant.

Poor crying. Rich praying.

Women dancing. Elders judging.

And prophets defended by men who don’t know the meaning of mercy.

The middle path?

It has become a road paved with diluted justice, empty rituals, and cowardly peace.

Perhaps it’s time we choose a different path.

Not middle.

Not extreme.

Just… true.