Reflections started as a monthly video series—part commentary, part Da'wa, part cultural autopsy. Sometimes scripted, sometimes sparked by an argument before we even hit record. Recorded in my studio, we’d film for over an hour, sometimes more. Then I’d sit with the footage, sift through the tension, the gems, the laughter, and piece together 7 to 10 minutes that felt honest. But what you never saw—what this video shows—is the full rhythm of how we actually talked.
What do you do when your faith questions the culture that raised you? This film was released in 2010 at a time when music was a major subject amongst Muslims. It was screened all over the world and boycotted in several Muslim communities.
Our story focuses on the perceived conflict between traditional religious ideals and modernity, as well as both the positives and negatives of Western Pop culture on todays’ Muslim youth.
We filmed these as conversations. Sometimes planned, sometimes spontaneous. I’d ask questions and then erase my voice in the edit. Sometimes we’d argue before we even hit record. Other times he’d show up with something heavy on his chest that he needed to express. What was left was just him—raw, unfiltered, necessary.
he sits with the silence, like an old friend
shadows holding the pieces, he forgot to name
There’s something about the way stillness tells stories louder than sound. I didn’t ask him pose for this image; the moment found itself—tired, unfiltered, and full of things we didn’t want to say. The shadows moved like memory, persistent, echoing things we wanted to forget. The photograph, though simple, is a conversation between grief and grace.
Was I still a filmmaker if I had no desire to make films? Was art something I once did, or something I still am? Could I really set it down and call myself whole? I didn’t know. So I stopped trying. I accepted the silence.
That’s the rhythm of the photographer’s life—a quiet and anxious ache wrapped in pursuit. Always reaching for what will never remain. It’s a quest for the fleeting moment that barely forms before it begins to vanish. An attempt to hold still what will never be still. And even when you capture it—the moment dissolves the instant it’s touched, leaving behind a shadow of time. A photograph is never the moment itself. It’s a relic, a trace—something that says it was here, but can never say it is.
Social media has become the global town square, the digital minbar, the modern souq where ideas are exchanged, organizations are shaped, and reputations are made—or lost. Yet many organizations, particularly those centered on faith, culture, and service, still approach it like a loudspeaker rather than a conversation.
Our story focuses on the perceived conflict between traditional religious ideals and modernity, as well as both the positives and negatives of Western Pop culture on todays’ Muslim youth.