Knock Knock

Lombok Reflections

Knock, knock...

I often walk the quiet lanes of the kampung, where the morning light drapes softly across uneven walls and narrow paths weave between small, timeworn homes. There is a calm that settles over everything, a stillness that makes the simple feel significant. Each house bears its own marks. Chipped paint, crooked windows, traces of years quietly passing. These paths are familiar, yet even in familiarity Allah places moments that stir the heart in new ways. On this day, as I followed a route I had walked many times before, something made me stop.

It wasn’t the whole house that caught my eye, but the door.

The house itself was small, no more than seven or eight meters square. Its walls were rough cement, unpainted and uneven, just like many others around it. But the door. The door stood in striking contrast. It was crafted from wood and carved with remarkable care, its patterns curling in perfect symmetry. At the centre was a design resembling a heart, graceful and intentional. It felt almost out of place, as though a piece of beauty had been placed on a frame of poverty. I stood there for a while, looking at it, thinking about the hands that made it and the person who had chosen it.

There was something quietly symbolic in that moment. The house around the door was humble, almost fragile in appearance, yet the door radiated pride and dignity. It seemed to say, “What is outside may be plain, but what lies within holds value.” And as I stood there, my thoughts drifted from this kampung home to the eternal homes promised to those who believe, and to the most beautiful doors of all: the doors of Jannah.

Allah says:

“Gardens of perpetual residence; they will enter them along with whoever were righteous among their fathers, their spouses, and their descendants. And the angels will enter upon them from every gate, [saying], ‘Peace be upon you for what you patiently endured. And excellent is the final home.’”

(Surah Ar-Ra’d 13:23–24)

The people of Jannah will not slip in quietly. They will be received with honour, greeted at magnificent gates by angels who bring them words of peace. These are not doors of wood and metal, but gates of mercy, openings to eternal joy. For those who persevered in faith, every hardship, every whispered duah, every step taken in patience will be recognised there.

The Prophet ﷺ said:

“In Paradise there are eight gates, and among them is a gate called Ar-Rayyan which none shall enter except those who fast.”

(Sahih al-Bukhari, 1896)

Imagine standing before those gates, seeing them open in welcome.

One for those who prayed, one for those who gave charity, one for those who fasted, and others for those who remained steadfast in trials. Each believer will be called by what they loved most, by what defined their obedience. Each door will shine not with carvings or colours but with divine light, its beauty reflecting the purity of the deeds that led to it. And in that moment, every act of patience will make sense. Every tear in sujood, every struggle to remain sincere, every quiet effort unseen by others will find its place in that radiant welcome.

Looking again at the kampung door, I noticed the ground before it. Dusty, cracked, uneven. A few broken tiles, some stray sandals, an old water bottle leaning against the wall. Yet above all that disorder stood a door that spoke of hope and effort.

Isn’t life like that?

Around us is noise, hardship, and trial, but above it all, Allah may be shaping for us something far more beautiful than we can yet see. The walls of dunya are temporary. The gate of the akhirah is eternal.

Allah says:

“And those who feared their Lord will be driven to Paradise in groups, until, when they reach it, while its gates are opened, its keepers will say, ‘Peace be upon you; you have done well. So, enter it to abide eternally.’”

(Surah Az-Zumar 39:73)

Since that day, I have walked differently. I look more closely now. I notice the uneven lines of a wall, the quiet details that tell stories, the hidden care behind ordinary things. Because perhaps every path carries a lesson, every home a reminder, every door a sign.

Our lives may be rough and unpolished, but what matters most is not the walls that surround us. It is the gate we are journeying toward.

This kampung door reminded me that this life is only the path, but the akhirah is the gate that decides where that path ends. Some gates lead to regret and loss, while others open into light, peace, and eternity. Every day, through our choices, words, and deeds, we shape what kind of door awaits us. The door of Jannah is not earned by perfection, but by perseverance, by turning back to Allah again and again until He admits us by His mercy.

O Allah, make us among those who walk with patience, who live with sincerity, who die with Your mercy, and who are raised to stand before the gates of Jannah. O Allah, let the angels welcome us with peace, let the gates open wide for us, and let us never be turned away. O Allah, admit us through the gates of Paradise, gather us with our families and the righteous, and grant us the eternal joy of beholding Your Noble Face in the gardens of eternity. Ameen.