YAM,
Would like to hear your thoughts on occasional gambling. Is this bad/haram? What do Farmans say about this?
Thanks for the help.
Bhadur
Gambling (ie. Online poker, sports betting, etc.)
There is discussion on this subject at:
Curent Issues -> Lotteries
http://www.ismaili.net/html/modules.php ... =lotteries
Curent Issues -> Lotteries
http://www.ismaili.net/html/modules.php ... =lotteries
YAM,
I have seen that thread, but I don't feel it answers my question. That tread is mainly talking about lottery winners in the news and what happens to them after.
I am more concerned with occasional gambling (i.e. on sports games, just to make it interesting) instead of lottery, trying to win millions.
The difference between the two is that, I am not trying to become a millionaire, I am merely just playing for fun.
I have seen that thread, but I don't feel it answers my question. That tread is mainly talking about lottery winners in the news and what happens to them after.
I am more concerned with occasional gambling (i.e. on sports games, just to make it interesting) instead of lottery, trying to win millions.
The difference between the two is that, I am not trying to become a millionaire, I am merely just playing for fun.
Quran Say no
It is Haram as per the Quran.
MSM refused to take Dasond from one Ismaili who won the lottery money.
MSM refused to take Dasond from one Ismaili who won the lottery money.
Re: Quran Say no
[quote="agakhani"]It is Haram as per the Quran.
MSM refused to take Dasond from one Ismaili who won the lottery money.[/quote]
I don't get it. he's the one who gives you that money to begin with then why not give dasond on it?
I would understand you can't give dasond if you're making dirty money but, lottery is a gift from GOD.
MSM refused to take Dasond from one Ismaili who won the lottery money.[/quote]
I don't get it. he's the one who gives you that money to begin with then why not give dasond on it?
I would understand you can't give dasond if you're making dirty money but, lottery is a gift from GOD.
I read that post and found it really interesting, although it doesn't address my question of whether or not it is bad to gamble -- especially when it is not with the hopes of becoming a millionaire, but just more for the recreational value.kmaherali wrote:In the Lotteries thread that I alluded to above, there is an anecdote about MSMS preventing Pir Subzali from winning a lottery. It is worthy of reflection....Bhadur wrote:Is there a firmaan where we are given guidance on this issue?
Did you hear that story in a firmaan? Can you cite a source....
78. O righteous man! Never gamble.Bhadur wrote:I read that post and found it really interesting, although it doesn't address my question of whether or not it is bad to gamble -- especially when it is not with the hopes of becoming a millionaire, but just more for the recreational value.
SO KIRIYA Pir Sadardeen
Should I not invest in the stock market? That could also be viewed as a form of gambling.kmaherali wrote:78. O righteous man! Never gamble.Bhadur wrote:I read that post and found it really interesting, although it doesn't address my question of whether or not it is bad to gamble -- especially when it is not with the hopes of becoming a millionaire, but just more for the recreational value.
SO KIRIYA Pir Sadardeen
Speculation could be a part of my strategy, ie. as an arbitrageur, but i see your point.
Taking calculated risks in the stock market could easily be compared to doing the same in poker. So would you say that it's fine to play poker so long as you have a firm strategy and are not throwing your money away, just as you would be if you were speculating in the stock market?
Taking calculated risks in the stock market could easily be compared to doing the same in poker. So would you say that it's fine to play poker so long as you have a firm strategy and are not throwing your money away, just as you would be if you were speculating in the stock market?
People need to understand, anything forbidden in any sort of religious text is for good reason.Bhadur wrote:Speculation could be a part of my strategy, ie. as an arbitrageur, but i see your point.
Taking calculated risks in the stock market could easily be compared to doing the same in poker. So would you say that it's fine to play poker so long as you have a firm strategy and are not throwing your money away, just as you would be if you were speculating in the stock market?
Gambling prevention is to prevent a state of psychological turmoil, stress and worry and to prevent the loss of your assets. Now, limit hold'em on a website a few times a week or gambling at the little league roulette table...is that going to destroy your mindset and life routine? Doubtful. However, I believe the no-no about gambling refers to extreme extents (or even minor ones) to prevent the onset of an addictive nature of the sport in the first place.
The issue rests on you, do you have self control or an addictive nature? What are the stakes? etc.
Make your own informed decision. Personally, I enjoy playing poker with real money once a week with friends.
Blind Faith in China’s Stock Market
BEIJING — In late June, as the Chinese stock market was in a tailspin, a joke began making the rounds.
“We played the market when we thought stocks had hit rock bottom,” one investor says to another, “only to find there was a basement below. We played the market when prices were in the basement, only to find there was a cellar underneath that, and when we kept playing in the cellar, we found that below that there was hell. Then we took our lives in our hands and kept playing when stocks were in hell — only to discover it’s true what they say: There are 18 levels of hell!”
For the officials of China’s Securities Regulatory Commission, July 4 must have seemed like hell on earth: They were as frantic as ants on a hot wok. That morning, the heads of 21 top brokerages met with the regulatory commission, and, according to media reports, agreed to supply some 120 billion renminbi, or $19.4 billion, to a market rescue fund.
The plan was in clear violation of the Securities Law. Brokers need approval from their shareholders to give up so much money. But with the regulatory agency desperate for a cash infusion, the brokers were in no mood to follow the law. We Chinese are used to this kind of thing: In China, law and the rule of law are a world apart.
Many people think the stock market plunge, which continued this week, had its origin in the government clampdown on margin trading, the use of borrowed money to buy stocks, which had led to a feverish expansion of broker financing and to the stock market bubble. Brokers are required to back trades with the equivalent amount of cash from a client, but competition and a thriving stock market had led too many to flout the rules. Every day investors complained to brokers that the financial threshold for trading was too high. The brokerages felt they had no choice but to ease the cash requirements for making trades.
As the market boomed, more and more ordinary people invested their savings and funneled borrowed money into stocks. The virtual economy of the markets detached itself from economic fundamentals, and stock prices of listed companies became disconnected from their real value. It was as though investors were spending 100 yuan to buy a 1 yuan pair of chopsticks.
When you realize that there are some 100 million investors in China’s stock market, and when you think, too, of the throngs of gambling-loving Chinese packing the world’s casinos, along with the clatter of mahjong tiles inside practically every Chinese home (they say that when you’re on a plane and hear people shuffling mahjong tiles below, you know you’re over China), then it is clear that for many Chinese the stock market simply whets a thirst for a quick profit.
This is in part why so many new fund-providing companies have sprouted up in recent years. Most have no intention of establishing a permanent business: The idea is to make a killing, then get out while the going is good. These new enterprises don’t register with the government; they simply rent an apartment in a housing block, lug in a few desks, chairs and computers, access the brokers’ trading platform, raise or borrow tens of millions, or even hundreds of millions, of renminbi, and they’re in business.
The government was keen to see people move money from savings — some Chinese put away as much as half of their income — into capital markets and thus stimulate an increasingly sluggish economy. Brokers could charge high interest rates for financing the trading. And many retail investors dreamed of becoming rich overnight. Everyone seemed to have a stake in seeing the stock market climb, and desire-fueled fantasies ensued.
The Chinese stock market has long been a policy-driven market, its ups and downs largely prompted by new government policies. Thus, the country finds itself in the bizarre situation of having a bear market when the economy is humming and a bull market when the economy is in the doldrums. A decade ago, a single People’s Daily editorial was enough to change the market’s direction.
But habitual reliance on a policy-driven market has hurt China’s small investors. When stocks began to nosedive in June, many people hung on, trusting that the government would come to the rescue. When the government began to intervene, many shareholders sat tight, and many who had bailed out began to get back in. Prices continued to fall, but because every day the government was announcing new rescue measures, investors were sure that prices had bottomed out. Then the market just kept sliding. After suffering huge losses, one investor announced that he was now sleeping like a baby — because he kept crying himself to sleep.
Blind emotion often continues to rule. On July 9, as rescue efforts took effect and the market began to rebound, the phones of brokerage and margin trading managers were constantly ringing once more, as investors who had suffered losses mortgaged their assets or borrowed funds to generate new capital.
It is said that the memory span of a Chinese investor is as short as that of fish — no more than seven seconds. Clearly, the slump has still not taught a respect for market principles. Many people go on believing the official claim that it is malicious short-sellers who have caused the sell-off.
Perhaps investors will eventually stop placing blind faith in government policy, and the Chinese stock market will evolve from being a top-down system overly influenced by the government. When in the space of a few days you lose the savings built up over a lifetime, this should make an indelible impression. But it’s quite possible that the appeal of taking one more gamble and winning all your money back will lead people into the same old trap. Any change in the mind-set of the Chinese is likely to be a long drawn out process.
Government agencies and the official media have continued eagerly talking up the stock market, encouraging investors to buy stocks and buy big.
On social media, however, one young woman who lost all her assets when the market swooned took a different line. “I just wish I could find a man who doesn’t own a single stock!” she cracked.
Yu Hua is the author, most recently, of “The Seventh Day.” This essay was translated by Allan H. Barr from the Chinese.
Follow The New York Times Opinion section on Facebook and Twitter, and sign up for the Opinion Today newsletter.
http://www.nytimes.com/2015/08/20/opini ... d=45305309
BEIJING — In late June, as the Chinese stock market was in a tailspin, a joke began making the rounds.
“We played the market when we thought stocks had hit rock bottom,” one investor says to another, “only to find there was a basement below. We played the market when prices were in the basement, only to find there was a cellar underneath that, and when we kept playing in the cellar, we found that below that there was hell. Then we took our lives in our hands and kept playing when stocks were in hell — only to discover it’s true what they say: There are 18 levels of hell!”
For the officials of China’s Securities Regulatory Commission, July 4 must have seemed like hell on earth: They were as frantic as ants on a hot wok. That morning, the heads of 21 top brokerages met with the regulatory commission, and, according to media reports, agreed to supply some 120 billion renminbi, or $19.4 billion, to a market rescue fund.
The plan was in clear violation of the Securities Law. Brokers need approval from their shareholders to give up so much money. But with the regulatory agency desperate for a cash infusion, the brokers were in no mood to follow the law. We Chinese are used to this kind of thing: In China, law and the rule of law are a world apart.
Many people think the stock market plunge, which continued this week, had its origin in the government clampdown on margin trading, the use of borrowed money to buy stocks, which had led to a feverish expansion of broker financing and to the stock market bubble. Brokers are required to back trades with the equivalent amount of cash from a client, but competition and a thriving stock market had led too many to flout the rules. Every day investors complained to brokers that the financial threshold for trading was too high. The brokerages felt they had no choice but to ease the cash requirements for making trades.
As the market boomed, more and more ordinary people invested their savings and funneled borrowed money into stocks. The virtual economy of the markets detached itself from economic fundamentals, and stock prices of listed companies became disconnected from their real value. It was as though investors were spending 100 yuan to buy a 1 yuan pair of chopsticks.
When you realize that there are some 100 million investors in China’s stock market, and when you think, too, of the throngs of gambling-loving Chinese packing the world’s casinos, along with the clatter of mahjong tiles inside practically every Chinese home (they say that when you’re on a plane and hear people shuffling mahjong tiles below, you know you’re over China), then it is clear that for many Chinese the stock market simply whets a thirst for a quick profit.
This is in part why so many new fund-providing companies have sprouted up in recent years. Most have no intention of establishing a permanent business: The idea is to make a killing, then get out while the going is good. These new enterprises don’t register with the government; they simply rent an apartment in a housing block, lug in a few desks, chairs and computers, access the brokers’ trading platform, raise or borrow tens of millions, or even hundreds of millions, of renminbi, and they’re in business.
The government was keen to see people move money from savings — some Chinese put away as much as half of their income — into capital markets and thus stimulate an increasingly sluggish economy. Brokers could charge high interest rates for financing the trading. And many retail investors dreamed of becoming rich overnight. Everyone seemed to have a stake in seeing the stock market climb, and desire-fueled fantasies ensued.
The Chinese stock market has long been a policy-driven market, its ups and downs largely prompted by new government policies. Thus, the country finds itself in the bizarre situation of having a bear market when the economy is humming and a bull market when the economy is in the doldrums. A decade ago, a single People’s Daily editorial was enough to change the market’s direction.
But habitual reliance on a policy-driven market has hurt China’s small investors. When stocks began to nosedive in June, many people hung on, trusting that the government would come to the rescue. When the government began to intervene, many shareholders sat tight, and many who had bailed out began to get back in. Prices continued to fall, but because every day the government was announcing new rescue measures, investors were sure that prices had bottomed out. Then the market just kept sliding. After suffering huge losses, one investor announced that he was now sleeping like a baby — because he kept crying himself to sleep.
Blind emotion often continues to rule. On July 9, as rescue efforts took effect and the market began to rebound, the phones of brokerage and margin trading managers were constantly ringing once more, as investors who had suffered losses mortgaged their assets or borrowed funds to generate new capital.
It is said that the memory span of a Chinese investor is as short as that of fish — no more than seven seconds. Clearly, the slump has still not taught a respect for market principles. Many people go on believing the official claim that it is malicious short-sellers who have caused the sell-off.
Perhaps investors will eventually stop placing blind faith in government policy, and the Chinese stock market will evolve from being a top-down system overly influenced by the government. When in the space of a few days you lose the savings built up over a lifetime, this should make an indelible impression. But it’s quite possible that the appeal of taking one more gamble and winning all your money back will lead people into the same old trap. Any change in the mind-set of the Chinese is likely to be a long drawn out process.
Government agencies and the official media have continued eagerly talking up the stock market, encouraging investors to buy stocks and buy big.
On social media, however, one young woman who lost all her assets when the market swooned took a different line. “I just wish I could find a man who doesn’t own a single stock!” she cracked.
Yu Hua is the author, most recently, of “The Seventh Day.” This essay was translated by Allan H. Barr from the Chinese.
Follow The New York Times Opinion section on Facebook and Twitter, and sign up for the Opinion Today newsletter.
http://www.nytimes.com/2015/08/20/opini ... d=45305309