I am writing this reflection on the 9th of Dhul Hijjah — the most significant day in the Islamic calendar. A day when we are told that all prayers will be accepted, and we are encouraged to spend it in worship, immersed in the hope of unimaginable rewards.
So what makes this day so special?
It is the Day of Hajj — the once-in-a-lifetime pilgrimage to Makkah made by millions of Muslims each year. Every Muslim who has the means and physical ability is required to perform Hajj at least once. While the pilgrimage spans five days, there’s a unique weight placed on this particular day: not being present at Arafah on the 9th of Dhul Hijjah invalidates the entire Hajj.
It fascinates me that from all the days in the year, it is this day that was chosen as the best of all days. As Muslims, we naturally place the Prophet Muhammad (saw) at the highest status among mankind. Our lives are shaped around his example. And yet, the entire structure of Hajj is built not around him, but around the legacy of another prophet — Prophet Ibrahim (as).
Why did Allah centre an entire pillar of Islam around the life of Ibrahim (as)? From the Kaaba in Makkah (built by Ibrahim and his son Isma'il), to the Saee between Safa and Marwa in honour of Hajar’s desperate search for water; from the stoning of Shaytan to the symbolic sacrifice of an animal, every major rite of Hajj is a tribute to the trials of Ibrahim (as) and his family.
The answer? Ibrahim Khalil.
In the Quran, Allah calls Ibrahim His friend. Khalilullah. Is there any higher honour than to be a friend of God?
But what does it take to earn that kind of friendship? Ibrahim was tested like few others. Thrown into a fire by his own father. Granted a child in old age, only to be told to leave him in a barren desert. Reunited, only to be commanded to sacrifice him. And through it all, he never wavered in his submission. He didn’t demand explanations or hold back parts of himself. He trusted Allah.
And that made me wonder: maybe Allah is teaching us something deeper about the nature of friendship, not just with Him, but with each other.
The Arabic word Khalil comes from the root kh-l-l, which implies deep, permeating intimacy, something soaked all the way through. A Khalil isn’t someone who simply stands beside you for a selfie, they occupy the crevices of your heart. They witness the vulnerabilities you don’t show most people.
If you’ve ever had a close friend like that, you’ll know the feeling. The one who gets you without you having to explain. Who sees the worst in you but doesn’t walk away. Who holds you up when you’re convinced you can’t go on.
That kind of friendship, like faith, is sacred. And like faith, it is tested.
Yet we live in an age of distrust by default. We’re flooded with messages telling us to ‘set boundaries, cut off toxic people, and protect your peace’ — all valid in the right context. But the lines between healthy boundaries and emotional unavailability are getting blurrier. These days, anything that doesn’t serve us exactly the way we want, exactly when we want it, can easily be dismissed as ‘toxic.’
Social media adds another layer to this issue. On these platforms, we’ve learned to share ourselves in curated, consumable doses, because, of course, not everyone deserves to have all of us. But the problem is, we have started guarding our real selves offline, too.
And it makes me wonder if we are becoming incapable of having such friendships, because we are entering them half-closed. We long for soul-deep friendship, but carry habits that make it almost impossible. If we doubt something a close friend does, we no longer stop to question our friend’s intentions. We simply walk away at the first sign of discomfort. In trying to protect ourselves from harm, are we also protecting ourselves from these intimate friendships that our souls crave?
So, what do we learn from Ibrahim?
That true friendship requires us to open ourselves up and let people in. It can’t be a relationship of convenience. It won’t always be good vibes only. But there will be real trust. There will be showing up, especially when it's hard.
And if you aren’t ready to take that kind of risk with another person, maybe start with the One whom Ibrahim (as) trusted. After all, who wouldn’t want to be a Khalil of Allah?