While paper is still accepted, digital Arzis (via the official Rasmiyah portal or designated email with PDF attachment) are processed 70% faster than paper ones.
In the updated format, the applicant must clearly answer:
The updated Arzi format is not just about bureaucracy—it is designed to ensure that your request reaches the correct authority quickly, allowing the Hudood to respond with their valuable time and Dua. Before submitting, check with your Jamaat Office or the Central Arzi Management System (if active in your region) for any local variations.
By adhering to the new standardized format, you honor the system of the Dawat and help streamline community administration.
Disclaimer: Community administrative procedures vary by location. Always consult your local Amil Saheb or Jamaat office for the most current Arzi submission guidelines.
While there is no singular "updated" public PDF labeled for 2026, the standard and most current format for submitting an (a formal petition or letter) to His Holiness Syedna Mufaddal Saifuddin (TUS)
follows a specific structure used across official community platforms like the ITS 52 Portal Hawaij.org Core Arzi Structure
An Arzi should be concise, respectful, and traditionally includes the following components: Address & Salutation Begin with:
“Abde Syedi wa Maula al-Dai al-Ajal al-Fatemi Syedna Mufaddal Saifuddin (TUS) ni hazrat ma...” “Huzurala (TUS) ni Hazrat ma Araz che...” Personal Information Include your ITS ID (EJamaat ID) clearly at the top or within the introductory line. State your Jamaat/City The Body (Araz)
Clearly state the purpose (e.g., seeking Dua for health, business, Nikah, or a specific Keep the language humble, often written in Lisan al-Dawat (a mix of Gujarati, Arabic, and Urdu). The Conclusion End with a plea for Dua-e-Khaas and a wish for Maulana’s long life (
“Allah Ta’ala Aqa Moula ni umr shareef ne qayamat na din lag daraz ane daraz kare” Submission Channels Digital Arzi : Most modern submissions are now handled via Hawaij - Online Arzi . You must log in with your to track your request in one place. Niyyat Forms : For specific events like Ashara Mubaraka
, localized Jamaats often provide standardized checklists or forms where you mark your commitments and provide your ID. General Formatting Tips
: Ensure your core message is easy to read. If submitting physically, use clean, high-quality paper. Arabic Inscriptions : It is common to include calligraphic headers (like
) or specific devotional phrases if you are drafting a formal physical letter. The Dawoodi Bohras draft template
for a specific occasion, such as business success or seeking permission for a Nikah? Dawoodi Bohra Community - Vajiram & Ravi
Title: The Digital Resurrection
Yusuf uncle was a man of routine. Every Sunday morning, without fail, he would sit at his dusty study desk, pull out a fresh sheet of crisp, white paper, and uncork his fountain pen. For the Dawoodi Bohra community, the Arzi—a formal written petition to the Syedna, the spiritual leader—was a sacred tradition. It was the medium through which a believer sought guidance, blessings, or forgiveness.
For forty years, Yusuf had written Arzis for his family. He knew the format by heart: the invocation, the humble salutations, the intricate floral borders drawn by hand, and the respectful conclusion. His handwriting was calligraphy; his soul was poured into the ink.
But the world was changing.
One evening, his grandson, Huzaifa, a twenty-something software engineer, walked into the study holding a tablet. "Nana," he said, his voice tentative. "Did you see the message on the group chat?"
Yusuf peered over his spectacles. "Which group chat? The one where people send pictures of dinner?"
Huzaifa smiled. "No, the official one. The administration has announced something. They said the Dawoodi Bohra Arzi format has been updated."
Yusuf frowned, putting down his pen. "Updated? How can you update a prayer? It is a conversation between the soul and the Dai. You do not 'update' devotion."
"It’s not about devotion, Nana. It’s about logistics," Huzaifa explained, sitting on the edge of the desk. He swiped the screen and handed the tablet over. "Look. The central office has digitized the process. There is a new template now. A standard font, a specific margin, and a digital submission portal."
Yusuf stared at the glowing screen. It looked sterile. Gone were the personal flourishes, the slight tremble in the ink that betrayed a heavy heart, the elaborate hand-drawn borders that took an hour to complete. It was a form. A standardized, Times New Roman form.
"It lacks warmth," Yusuf muttered, pushing the tablet away. "It feels like filing a tax return, not asking for the Shahzada’s grace."
"It’s faster," Huzaifa countered gently. "It translates everything automatically. And see here—the new format has a section for specific file attachments. Medical reports, travel documents. It streamlines the process so the office can process thousands of requests faster."
Yusuf sighed, looking at his blank sheet of paper. He felt a sudden, heavy pang of obsolescence. He was the designated writer for half the elders in his building. They came to him because they trusted his hand to carry their words. If a machine could do it, what was his place?
"Try it, Nana," Huzaifa urged. "Just once. For Uncle Farid. He needs a health arzi urgently. If we send it tonight, they see it tomorrow morning. The paper mail takes a week."
Yusuf looked at the photo of Farid on the shelf—a man who had been by his side since childhood, now frail and ailing. The thought of a week’s delay stung his conscience.
"Show me," Yusuf conceded gruffly.
Huzaifa opened the portal. He typed in the details. Name, Address, Age. The cursor blinked with rhythmic impatience. Then came the main body.
"You type the message here," Huzaifa said.
Yusuf hesitated. He didn't know how to type fast. He felt clumsy, his fingers hovering over the keys like strangers in a new land. "I..." He faltered. "I cannot write like this. My thoughts do not flow through plastic keys."
Huzaifa had a solution. "Dictate it to me, Nana. Tell me what to say."
Yusuf closed his eyes. He thought of Farid. He thought of their youth, their shared struggles, and the peace they sought in their twilight years. He ignored the technology and spoke from the heart.
"Mention that he is the son of Bhaijan," Yusuf began, his voice gaining strength. "Tell the Moula that he has served the community with a smile for decades. Tell him that his legs have grown weak, but his faith stands tall. Ask for the Nazarat... ask for the healing gaze."
Huzaifa typed furiously, transcribing the words. But the software was smart. It auto-corrected. It aligned the text into the 'Updated Format.' It centered the title. It bolded the salutations.
When Huzaifa turned the screen back around, Yusuf stared.
It wasn't the same. It didn't have the smell of paper or the scratch of the nib. But on the screen, in a clean, elegant Arabic script font, was his message. It looked official. It looked like it belonged in the grand halls of the administration.
"It looks... proper," Yusuf admitted, a hint of surprise in his voice.
"Ready to send?" Huzaifa asked.
Yusuf looked at his fountain pen, resting in its case. Then he looked at the screen, where the 'Submit' button glowed like a beacon.
"Send it," Yusuf said.
Huzaifa tapped the screen. A small animation played—a checkmark in a circle. "Arzi Submitted Successfully."
Three days later, a reply came. It wasn't a letter in the post. It was a notification on the app, followed by a phone call from a local Amil. The news was good. The Arzi had been seen, and the blessings had been granted. Farid was overcome with joy, clutching the phone as if it were gold.
That Sunday, Yusuf sat at his desk again. He took out his pen and paper. He began to draw a border. But halfway through, he stopped.
He pulled the tablet toward him. He opened the new format.
"Humanity updates its tools," he whispered to himself, "but the intent remains."
He clicked 'New Arzi.' He didn't need to write a petition today, but he wanted to practice. He wanted to master this new vessel, so that he could fill it with the same old spirit. The format had changed, the ink had turned to pixels, but the prayer, he realized, was eternal.
Before we look at the template, let’s dissect what has changed compared to the traditional format.
