There is a kind of forgetting that happens so slowly, so quietly, that a person doesn’t even realize it has taken place until much later. It doesn’t announce itself. It doesn’t knock the door down. It simply withdraws, day by day, until one morning, a person wakes up and finds that something central to their life is gone, not stolen but neglected. This is the story of how salaah, the most fundamental act of worship in Islam, disappears from a Muslim’s life. Not always from rebellion, not always from disbelief, but often from simple disengagement. A few missed prayers turn into a pattern. The pattern becomes a norm and, eventually, the limbs forget what it means to bow, the tongue forgets the words of Allah (SWT), and the heart forgets the One it was created to remember. Salaah is not just one of the five pillars of Islam, it is the pillar that holds up everything else. The Prophet (SAW) said, “The first matter that the slave will be brought to account for on the Day of Judgment is the prayer. If it is sound, then the rest of his deeds will be sound, and if it is corrupt, then the rest of his deeds will be corrupt.” (Sunan at-Tirmidhi)
This single act of worship is not merely a ritual obligation among many, but the very measure by which the health of one’s entire spiritual life is determined. When prayer is intact, everything else may find its place. However, when prayer is abandoned, even the good in a person’s life begins to unravel. The outer self might carry on, but the inner self is untethered, directionless, unanchored, and vulnerable to forces the person may not even recognize. This is not a theory. It is a lived reality for countless Muslims around the world. From university students navigating secular environments, to professionals overwhelmed by fast-paced careers, to entire families drifting from their religious roots, the decline of prayer is not isolated. It is systemic, and while much attention is given to societal pressures, ideological confusion, and cultural shifts, less attention is paid to the spiritual cost of removing salaah from one’s life. What happens to a person’s sense of purpose, their moral compass, their resilience in hardship, and their relationship with the unseen when they no longer bow five times a day? What happens to their identity as a Muslim when the single most visible, most essential act of faith is no longer practiced?
The Quran speaks of this with sobering clarity. In describing the generations that came after the prophets, Allah (SWT) says, “But they were succeeded by generations who neglected prayer and followed their lusts and so will soon face the evil consequences.” (The Clear Quran®, 19:59) This verse doesn’t mention abandoning religion entirely. It begins with the neglect of prayer. That neglect leads to the pursuit of desires, a life lived with no higher reference point, and that path, Allah (SWT) warns, leads to spiritual ruin. Notice how the verse connects the inner and outer world—the failure to pray doesn’t stay confined to private worship. It shapes the way a person lives. It opens the door to impulses taking over, to the self becoming the sole guide, to the disintegration of taqwa in everyday choices and, once that happens, a person may still call her/himself Muslim, but the light that once connected them to their Lord begins to fade. What makes this even more serious is that salaah is not just a duty, it is a gift. It is a Divine interruption in the chaos of the day. It is a chance to pause, to remember, and to realign. It is an act that transforms.
The Prophet (SAW) compared it to bathing five times a day. He said, “If there was a river at the door of one of you in which he bathes five times a day, would any of his dirt remain?” The people replied, “Nothing of his dirt would remain.” He said, “That is the example of the five prayers by which Allah removes sins.” (Sahih Bukhari)
Imagine a person who slowly stops bathing, not because they enjoy filth, but because they become numb to its presence. Eventually, they forget what it feels like to be clean. This is the state of the one who abandons prayer that not only are their sins no longer being washed, but they lose the ability to even sense the spiritual dirt accumulating on their soul.
This article does not seek to point fingers or condemn. Rather, it is an attempt to look honestly, and courageously, at the spiritual consequences of a prayerless life. It is written for the countless Muslims who, for one reason or another, have left salaah behind. Some did so out of laziness, others out of doubt, others because life overwhelmed them. Whatever the reason, the result is the same: a widening distance between the servant and the Master and – with that distance – confusion, sadness, instability, and loss. We will explore these consequences in detail, spiritually, psychologically, and even communally. However, more importantly, we will also ask ourselves, is there a way back? Can a person who has stopped praying find their way to khushu again? Can the heart, long neglected, be made soft in front of Allah (SWT)?
To answer these questions, we begin first by understanding what salaah truly means. Not just its technical definition, but its place in the architecture of a Muslim’s life because only when we understand what has been lost can we fully grasp what it means to return.
The spiritual structure of Salaah, and what collapses without it
To truly grasp what is lost when salaah is removed from a person’s life, one must begin by understanding what salaah is meant to build. It is not a mere ritual, nor a symbolic act of religious affiliation. It is the spine of the spiritual self, the structure upon which the entire relationship between the servant and his Lord rests. It is no coincidence that among the five pillars of Islam, only salaah is mandated five times a day. Hajj is once in a lifetime, zakaat is annual, fasting is seasonal, and the testimony of faith is uttered once. However, salaah is daily, continuous, and non-negotiable. Its constancy is not burdensome, it is necessary. A human being is in need of recalibration multiple times a day, because the distractions of the dunya are relentless, especially in the lives of the youth. The soul, left to wander in this world without a point of return, begins to drift first gently, then dangerously, into disorientation. Salaah is that point of return.
It is a command, yes, but more than that, it is an interruption of chaos, a recalibration of purpose, and a return to the present. It is where the servant steps out of the illusion of control and stands humbled before the One who controls all things.
The Quran does not merely instruct believers to pray, it describes the state of those who truly uphold salaah as one of spiritual humility, focus, and submission. Allah (SWT) says in The Quran, “Successful indeed are the believers: those who humble themselves in prayer […].” (The Clear Quran®, 23:1-2
This khushu is not an accessory to prayer, it is its essence. To pray without presence is to go through the motions of standing and bowing while the heart remains elsewhere. Yet, even in this imperfect state, prayer continues to be a mercy. Because prayer, even when offered with distraction, still pulls the soul back toward Allah (SWT) through dhikr, remembrance of the One who created it. What, then, happens when prayer is abandoned entirely? What happens when even the rope that ties the heedless back to its Lord is cut?
Abandoning salaah is not just a sin, it is a profound spiritual loss. The Prophet (SAW) has said, “Between a man and shirk and kufr is the abandonment of prayer.” (Sahih Muslim)
This is neither an exaggeration nor a metaphor. It is a statement of spiritual reality. The absence of salaah does not leave a person in a neutral state. It places them on a dangerous edge, distant from the Divine, where the clarity of right and wrong begins to fade and the soul no longer feels the need to answer the call of its Creator. From that point, the descent into heedlessness accelerates. The person who stops praying often does not immediately feel that something has changed. Life continues, externally. But slowly, internally, the heart begins to harden. The Quran becomes distant. The concept of accountability weakens. The desire to obey fades. Eventually, the inner self begins to lose its orientation entirely. Without realizing it, the person may still identify as Muslim, but the core mechanism of submission has been severed.
This is the nature of salaah. It is not just an obligation, but a mechanism of transformation. It disciplines the ego. It humbles the intellect. It silences the nafs. It builds the muscle of remembrance, so when one is not praying, the memory of Allah (SWT) still lingers in the heart. To remove that mechanism is to allow oneself to run without restraint. It is worth remembering that the disintegration of prayer rarely begins with disbelief. It begins with delay. A Fajr missed, shrugged off. A Dhikr skipped at work, justified. An Isha postponed, then forgotten. With each missed prayer, the gap widens not just in action, but also in feeling. The guilt that once pricked the heart begins to fade. The voice that whispered, “Return,” grows quieter. Eventually, a day arrives when the person realizes they have not spoken to their Lord in weeks. The tragedy here is not only that they have stopped praying, but that they no longer feel the pain of that loss. This spiritual numbness is more dangerous than many of the sins we fear because a sin committed with awareness still carries the possibility of tawbah. However, when a person stops praying and no longer feels the urgency to return, that is a sign of a deeper rupture.
It is striking that the very first matter we are asked about on the Day of Judgment is not belief in Allah (SWT), fasting, or charity, but prayer. The Prophet (SAW) said, “The first deed for which a person will be brought to account on the Day of Judgment is his prayer. If it is sound, then the rest of his deeds will be sound; and if it is corrupt, then the rest of his deeds will be corrupt.” (Sunan at-Tirmidhi)
Prayer is truly the litmus test for the health of the entire spiritual life.
On a broader level, the disappearance of prayer is not just an individual crisis, it is a communal and generational one. When prayer disappears from households, children grow up without witnessing sujood. When it disappears from institutions, the routines of the day lose their divine alignment. When it disappears from communities, the masjid becomes a shell of what it once was – a symbol rather than a sanctuary. The spiritual cohesion of the Ummah is not maintained by slogans, but by obedience, and prayer is the heartbeat of that obedience. Its absence weakens our collective moral clarity. It erodes our God-consciousness. It feeds the illusion that we can be Muslim in identity, but secular in spirit; an illusion that, over time, produces generations who inherit Islam as identity, but not as practice.
The one who abandons prayer may still believe. They may still feel something stir when The Quran is recited. They may still love Allah (SWT) in theory. However, they are disconnected from the very action that would nourish that belief and turn it into transformation. In that disconnection, they suffer silently. What they may call anxiety, emptiness, or purposelessness is often, at its root, a soul in need of sujood.
The psychological impact of abandoning Salaah
The human soul, when we truly reflect on it, was not created to be directionless. Within every person is a need for order, meaning, and rhythm. This is an internal architecture that gives shape to one’s existence. Salaah, in the Islamic framework, is not simply a way to worship, it is the organizing principle of the day. It divides time into sacred intervals. It brings the unseen into the seen, anchoring the believer in something higher than the chaos of life. When that rhythm is lost, when the daily check-ins with Allah (SWT) are removed, the mind does not remain unaffected, nor does the heart. There is a slow psychological unraveling that occurs when salaah is no longer part of one’s life. At first, it may look like freedom because there’s less pressure, less guilt, and more flexibility. However, soon, it begins to feel like fragmentation. The hours of the day bleed into each other with purpose. The conscience becomes quieter. The self becomes heavier. A person may remain functional, but something essential inside begins to fracture.
Salaah is a psychological realignment for a person. Each time an individual stands for prayer, they are confronting the truth that I am the slave, and Allah (SWT) is the Master. This single act and realization forces the individual to pause and reflect not just on Allah (SWT), but on their own trajectory, choices, and mortality. It interrupts the distractions of life with moments of eternal meaning. In a world of constant noise, salaah becomes the one space of quiet surrender. When that space is removed, the ego finds no resistance. It begins to speak louder. It no longer bows to something higher, and this leads to a gradual shift in self-perception that the person who once saw themselves as a servant of Allah (SWT) may now begin to see themselves as the sole author of their life, accountable to no one, answerable to nothing beyond this world. However, the soul knows better. Even in the absence of prayer, it remembers what it was created for. That is why so many people who stop praying, even if they don’t speak of it openly, live with a gnawing sense of unease. They may not call it guilt. They may not attribute it to the absence of salaah, but it manifests as anxiety, agitation, and a quiet restlessness that follows them through their success, relationships, and private moments.
Something feels missing, but they cannot quite name it. Often, they then seek to fill that void with entertainment, productivity, self-help routines, relationships, and even activism. However, nothing substitutes that deep peace that comes from regular, sincere sujood. The heart that bows regularly to Allah (SWT) is not simply spiritually nourished, it is psychologically anchored. It is reminded, several times a day of who it is, why it exists, and to Whom it will return. Modern psychology increasingly recognizes the connection between ritual and mental health. Routine, structure, and spiritual grounding have been shown to reduce anxiety, promote emotional regulation, and enhance one’s sense of meaning. Yet, the Islamic tradition has always known this. Allah (SWT) says in The Quran, “Recite what has been revealed to you of the Book and establish prayer. Indeed, ˹genuine˺ prayer should deter ˹one˺ from indecency and wickedness. The remembrance of Allah is ˹an˺ even greater ˹deterrent˺. And Allah ˹fully˺ knows what you ˹all˺ do.” (The Clear Quran®, 29:45)
Further, one can even go as far as to say that when you abandon salaah, you abandon your identity. Salaah is the most visible act of Islam, and it is the defining behavior of a believer. When it is gone, so too is a major part of what makes a Muslim feel Muslim. This loss of identity breeds confusion. A person may still hold Islamic values but, without prayer, those values begin to feel abstract and unanchored. Prayer was meant to be the daily reaffirmation of la ilaaha ilallah. Without it, you don’t live your deen. A person may miss a few prayers, feel guilty, and resolve to return. But when they don’t, that guilt becomes heavier. Eventually, it becomes shame. And shame, if not guided by hope, biomes paralysis. The person begins to feel unworthy altogether of returning back to Allah (SWT). “What’s the point? I’ve been gone too long. Allah (SWT) hates me.” That is exactly how Shaytan works. He whispers first to delay the prayer, then to abandon it, and then, worst of all, to lose hope in ever praying again. However, when does Allah (SWT) ever close the door on His believer?
The Prophet (SAW) has said, “Allah continues to stretch out His hand at night so that the sinners of the day may repent, and He stretches out His hand during the day so that the sinners of the night may repent—until the sun rises from the west.” (Sahih Muslim)
The door to return is always open, but the longer one stays away, the harder it can feel to walk back through it. In another beautiful narration, Ali ibn Abu Talib (RA), beloved cousin and son-in-law of the Prophet (SAW) and 4th Rightly Guided Caliph, says, “When a person stands in prayer, blessings descend upon him from the heavens to the earth.” (al-Bayhaqi)
The collective consequences of how abandoning Salaah weakens families, communities, and the Ummah
As mentioned earlier, abandoning salaah doesn’t just have an individual impact, it also has a societal impact. These consequences affect households, children, relationships, and when multiplied, it changes the trajectory of the entire Ummah. From the time of the Prophet (SAW), the adhan echoed through the streets. The sahabah would leave their trades, their families, their tasks and gather in rows, shoulder-to-shoulder, heart-to-heart, to stand before their Lord. Salaah brings order to society. It was the spiritual clock by which everything else was set. It reminded the marketplace of conscience. It reminded the home of purpose. It reminded the soul of accountability. When that structure weakens, the vacuum is not neutral, it is filled by other values, other disciplines, and other voices that often pull people away from Allah (SWT), not toward Him.
In a lengthy and well-known hadith from Samura bin Jundab, the companion narrates “Allah’s Messenger (SAW) very often used to ask his companions, “Did anyone of you see a dream?” So dreams would be narrated to him by those whom Allah wished to tell. One morning the Prophet (SAW) said, “Last night two persons came to me (in a dream) and woke me up and said to me, ‘Proceed!’ I set out with them and we came across a man lying down, and behold, another man was standing over his head, holding a big rock. Behold, he was throwing the rock at the man’s head, injuring it. The rock rolled away and the thrower followed it and took it back. By the time he reached the man, his head returned to the normal state. The thrower then did the same as he had done before.”
In that dream, our Prophet (SAW) witnessed the most ghastly and horrific forms of punishment, and was told to continue proceeding after each witnessing until, at one point, he (SAW) said, “‘I have seen many wonders tonight. What does all that mean which I have seen?’” Then, the two companions who were with the Prophet (SAW) began to describe the sins for which the people were facing specific punishments. When it came time to explain the punishment of crushing the head with a stone, they said, “’We will inform you: As for the first man you came upon whose head was being injured with the rock, he is the symbol of the one who studies the Quran and then neither recites it nor acts on its orders, and sleeps, neglecting the enjoined prayers.’” (Sahih Bukhari)
The crushing of the head, repeated until the Day of Judgment, is not just a terrifying image, it is a wake up call. It tells us that when prayer is neglected, when The Quran is ignored, when the soul is left unattended, there is not only loss in this world, but unimaginable consequences in the next. Let no soul be deceived by the delay of consequences in this world. The mercy of Allah (SWT) is vast, and the door to return remains open, but we are not promised tomorrow. Now is the time to rebuild what was lost, to rise for prayer again, and to protect ourselves from a regret that cannot be undone.
Dua
رَبِّ ٱجْعَلْنِى مُقِيمَ ٱلصَّلَوٰةِ وَمِن ذُرِّيَّتِى ۚ رَبَّنَا وَتَقَبَّلْ دُعَآءِ
My Lord! Make me and those ˹believers˺ of my descendants keep up prayer. Our Lord! Accept my prayers.” (The Clear Quran®, 14:40)
Allahumma Ameen!
