A point of view

Lombok Reflections

A point of view

They say real estate is all about location. And if that's true, then this particular villa perched high in the luxury development of Tampah Hills here in Lombok, must be among the most prized locations on all the island.

Valued at nearly 3 million US dollars, it is the kind of home most people only see in magazines or dream about. Every detail speaks of craftsmanship, luxury, exclusivity. You step out onto the open terrace, and the world opens before you. A flawless infinity pool spilling visually into the deep blue ocean, the curves of the coastline wrapping around like an embrace, the sunlight stretching across fields, forests, and sea in a way that feels almost unreal.

But as I stood there, breathing in the salty air, listening to the sound of the waves below, I was struck not by the price tag or the prestige, but by a much simpler truth:

This view... doesn’t belong to anyone.

You can’t fence it in.

You can’t bottle it.

You can’t own it.

And you most certainly don’t need three million dollars to witness it.

There are small homes, some barely standing, on the surrounding hills and countryside. Kampung dwellings made of wood and corrugated tin. Families who cook on open fires and wake with the rooster’s crow before Fajr. And many of them have the exact same view. The same stretch of ocean. The same hilltops. The same breeze blowing through their windows at Fajr.

It made me reflect on the meaning of true rizq.

We often reduce rizq to salary, to assets, to bank balances. But the Prophet ﷺ taught us a far more powerful, humbling perspective. He said:

"Whoever among you wakes up secure in his property, healthy in his body, and has his daily sustenance, it is as if the world and all it contains were brought to him."

(Tirmidhi 2346 – Hasan)

Read that again…

Secure.

Healthy.

Fed.

Not wealthy. Not famous. Not luxurious.

Sometimes, the simplest things like health, safety, a plate of food, and a heart that is at peace, are the greatest wealth. And in fact, they are the very things that money can’t guarantee.

It reminded me of the verse in the Quran that doesn’t just tell us about provision, but about its Source:

“Indeed, Allah is the continual Provider, the firm possessor of strength.”

(Surah Adh-Dhariyat 51:58)

The owner of that villa may have acquired the building, but the view? That’s from Allah. The horizon? His artistry. The breeze? His mercy. The sky? His canvas. And unlike the man-made comforts, these are gifts distributed to rich and poor alike, purely from His generosity, without prejudice or price.

And that brings us to another layer of reflection.

Because for all the beauty that surrounded me that day, I couldn’t help but wonder:

What if this stunning view was wasted on a distracted heart?

What if the people who live in these palatial villas are so consumed by their schedules, devices, or ambitions that they rarely look up from their phones to admire what Allah has placed before them?

What if someone lives in the most stunning location, but the heart inside that home is darkened by heedlessness, arrogance, or ingratitude?

Then contrast that with the farmer who lives down the hill. He rises for Fajr, walks to the masjid, returns to a modest meal, and thanks Allah with every bite. When he sees the ocean, he says, SubahanAllah. When he harvests a crop, he says, Alḥamdulillah. When the call to prayer echoes across the fields, he pauses his work, not out of ritual, but out of love.

“So eat of what Allah has provided for you, lawful and good. And be grateful for the bounty of Allah, if it is [indeed] Him that you worship.”

(Surah An-Naḥl 16:114)

In the sight of Allah, that man in his humility, simplicity, and gratitude, may be wealthier than any villa owner, and his soul more valuable than any plot of land. Because wealth in Islam is never just about what is in your hand. It is about what is in your heart.

"Contentment is a treasure that is never exhausted."

(al-Bayhaqi, Shuab al-Iman)

And perhaps that is why Jannah, the true home of the believer is described not just in terms of physical beauty, but in terms of tranquility. No pain. No grief. No envy. No comparison. Just peace.

“Salamun qawlam min Rabbir-Raḥim” — ‘Peace!’ – a word from the Merciful Lord.”

(Surah Yasin 36:58)

So, this reflection from Tampah Hills taught me something priceless.

That we can build with bricks and mortar, but only Allah builds the horizon. That we can design architecture, but only Allah can soften the heart. That we can earn a living, but only He gives life meaning.

And that maybe, just maybe, the most beautiful views in life are given to us, not bought by us.

May Allah allow us to see His signs with hearts full of gratitude. May He protect us from the blindness of arrogance and the poverty of ingratitude. And may He make us among those who recognise His blessings before they are taken away. Ameen.

“Then you will surely be asked that Day about pleasure.”

(Surah At-Takathur 102:8)