Hold your horses

Lombok Reflections

Hold your horses

On certain roads in Lombok, life feels caught between two worlds. The tar stretches wide, lined with modest shopfronts, the occasional street food stall, cars drive at a steady pace and motorbikes drift past each other with a sense of slowed purpose .

It is not busy in the way cities are busy. There are no endless lines of traffic or the blare of horns. Instead, there is a calm, almost timeless quality to it. Modern enough to feel connected, yet unhurried enough to feel suspended outside of the usual race of the world.

And then, in the midst of this suburban stillness, something passes by that both surprises and captivates, a horse-drawn cart, wooden and weathered, moving slowly down the same road that others travel on scooters and cars.

Its presence seems almost impossible in today’s age. To see a horse pulling a cart in the year 2025, not as a display of heritage or for tourist entertainment, but as a genuine mode of transport, shakes the assumptions of what progress looks like.

For the families who cannot afford a motorbike, this cart is not a relic, it is their reality. It carries old ladies, young families, sacks of rice, or goods from the market. It serves the poor who have little else. And in its slow and steady progress, it delivers a lesson more profound than any sleek vehicle rushing past could ever give.

The world insists that speed is success, that faster is always better. But the horse and cart defy that idea. They move at their own pace, step by step, and still they arrive.

Allah reminds us:

“Know that the life of this world is but amusement and diversion and adornment and boasting to one another, and competition in increase of wealth and children. It is like the example of rain whose growth pleases the farmers; then it dries and you see it turn yellow; then it becomes [scattered] debris. And in the Hereafter is severe punishment and forgiveness from Allah and approval. And what is the worldly life except the enjoyment of delusion.”

(Surah Al-Hadid, 57:20)

The lesson is clear. It is not the speed of the journey that matters, but the direction.

To many, the cart may look like poverty, and in truth it often is. But poverty does not mean the absence of dignity. The poor still move, still live, still survive with what Allah has given them.

The Prophet ﷺ honoured the poor, asking Allah to let him live and die among them.

He said:

“O Allah, let me live as a poor man, die as a poor man, and raise me up among the poor.” (Tirmidhi, Hasan)

Their simplicity shields them from arrogance, sharpens their gratitude, and makes their duah more sincere. Where others carry the burden of wealth, they carry the richness of faith. And then there is the horse itself. A symbol of sabr. It does not despair when motorbikes pass it by, nor does it rush to compete. It carries its load patiently, one hoofstep at a time, until the road is completed.

And is that not what is required of us? Not speed, not competition, but steadfastness.

The Prophet ﷺ said:

“The strong believer is better and more beloved to Allah than the weak believer, while there is good in both. Strive for that which will benefit you, seek the help of Allah, and do not feel helpless.” (Muslim)

The strong believer is not the one who arrives first, but the one who keeps walking no matter how long the journey.

The horse and cart also call to mind the life of the Prophet ﷺ. Though he could have lived with wealth, he chose humility. His meals were plain, his bed was coarse, his possessions few. He mended his own sandals. He reminded us that:

“Wealth is not in having many possessions, but rather true wealth is the richness of the soul.” (Bukhari, Muslim)

What looks small in the eyes of the world may be great in the sight of Allah. And so, just as every cart has a destination, so too does every human being.

Allah says:

“O mankind, indeed you are labouring toward your Lord with [great] exertion and will meet Him.” (Surah Al-Inshiqaq, 84:6)

Whether in cars or in carts, whether wealthy or poor, we are all on the same road back to Allah. The question is not what we rode, but what we carried. Did we bring taqwa, gratitude, and patience? Or did we load ourselves with sins and distractions?

Standing on that road, I realised the cart was more than transport. It was a reminder.

Simplicity is not weakness.

Patience is not failure.

Dignity is not in possessions.

The dunya is only a passage, and what matters is not the ride, but the destination. And for the believer, the destination is not here. It is Jannah.

O Allah, grant us hearts that are content with what You provide, patient in hardship, and steadfast upon Your path. Let us walk this life without envy or despair, carrying only taqwa and gratitude in our journey back to You. And when our road comes to its end, admit us by Your mercy into Jannah with the righteous, among those whom You love.

Ameen.