He came to meet the Shaykh wearing a simple cloak of sackcloth, a burlap cap resting on his head.
Someone chuckled and asked, half in jest:
“How much did that cloak cost you?”
The man smiled.
“I gave this entire world as its price. And in return, I have been promised the Hereafter. So no—I won’t be selling it to anyone.”
It was a reply not clothed in sarcasm, but in sincerity. A depth that only those who have broken free from the tyranny of desires can understand.
For the heart that fears poverty, that clings to material comfort, is a fragile thing.
Abū al-Dardāʾ (رضي الله عنه) once said:
“I would rather fall from a fortress and be shattered to pieces than sit among the rich.”
He added,
“I heard the Prophet ﷺ say: Fear the company of the dead.”
Someone asked,
“O Messenger of God, who are the dead?”
“The wealthy,” he replied.
There’s a story about Banan al-Miṣrī (رحمه الله), a beautiful glimpse into the soul of a seeker.
He was in Makkah, seated quietly, when a young man sat near him. Soon, someone approached with a heavy pouch of coins and placed it before the youth.
“I have no need for it,” the young man said.
“At least give it to the poor,” the man offered.
Later that evening, Banan al-Miṣrī saw the same youth begging among the crowds.
He asked him, gently:
“Would it not have been better to take a little from that pouch for yourself?”
The young man replied,
“I didn’t know I would still be alive this long.”
This is the hallmark of those who walk the path of zuhd—detachment. They desire nothing from this fleeting world. Whatever comes their way, they pass along to those in need.
Let me introduce you to four such souls, contemporaries of Abū ʿAlī al-Rūdhbārī (رحمه الله). Each walked the path of simplicity, but each walked it differently.
- 1. Yūsuf ibn Asbāṭ (رحمه الله):
He would not accept anything from his own brothers or from rulers.
Once, his brother sent him seventy thousand dirhams from an inheritance.
Yūsuf refused to touch even a single coin.
Instead, he lived by splitting palm leaves with his own hands—earning his daily bread with humility.
- 2. Abū Isḥāq al-Fazārī (رحمه الله):
His approach was the opposite.
He would accept gifts—but only to give them away.
What came from family, he passed on to the poor whose poverty was hidden.
What came from rulers, he gave to the deserving among the needy in Ṭarsūs.
- 3. ʿAbdullāh ibn al-Mubārak (رحمه الله):
He would accept gifts from family, but not from rulers.
Whatever he received, he added to what he earned, and distributed all to the poor.
- 4. Makhlad ibn al-Ḥusayn (رحمه الله):
He did the reverse—he accepted only from rulers.
Never from family.
He said, “With rulers, I owe no emotional debt. But if I take from my brothers, I’ll be bound by affection.”
These four are not contradictions. They are manifestations of one truth:
That real wealth is not measured by what one holds, but by what one can walk away from.
Those who choose the sackcloth of zuhd over the silk of indulgence need four provisions:
- Knowledge to guide their path,
- Detachment to govern their desires,
- Resolve to hold steady on the road,
- Remembrance to draw them ever closer to God.
And to such as these, who wear the burlap robe of contentment and refuse to make room in their hearts for greed—
Blessings.
For theirs is a wealth this world cannot weigh.
