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Concluding Post

Sunday in Al Quds. Fajr Athan beckons us to prayer. A rooster crows somewhere in the city at the exact same time and sounds very much like it is saying Allahu Akbar. Athan-adoodle-doo. Now, at 9am the sound of church bells fill the city, beautifully echoing across the small valley between Al Quds and Jab Al Zaitoon. I see the cross above the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, and the minaret of Umar ibn Khattab mosque right next to it. I see a multitude of domes everywhere, calling everyone in the walls of the old city to pray wherever they are. It is so beautiful here. I wonder if any of us deserve this place. I wonder if any of us deserve to set foot in it. The Prophet Suleiman AS once asked God to grant entrance to heaven to everyone who prays in Aqsa. God rejected this request, and it isn't hard to see why. We (people of all faiths) pray on these lands, but are our hearts pure? Are the AK47s in the hands of soldiers (often trigger ready) who guard every entrance to Aqsa for protection or for instilling fear? Do we have love for our brothers and sisters of other faiths, or just those similar to us? Do we love the people in our lives? Do we bear ill feelings for a single soul? How dare we walk these blessed stone streets (or trip down them in my case) and kneel before God on these blessed carpets when we are such sinners? All of the favours we've been given. The good health, the wealth, the love that we are capable of. We've sold them all for cheap thrills. We squabble over silly things like money and opinions when the stranger sitting next to you in the mosque hasn't a cent to his/her name. Today a lady sitting beside me sobbed silently from Tahajjud (night prayer) right through to Fajr (dawn prayer), and I wondered what might be the matter. I realised that she had the right idea with regard to her problems: Take it up with God, silently in prayer. He is the Provider, The Sustainer, The Protector, The Guide, The Loving. He is the disposer of affairs, because we humans have no idea how to take care of ourselves. We build walls around ourselves, we build walls around each other. We keep things in, we let too much out. We want to walk these holy lands, but we don't want to emulate the holy people who once walked them as well. We want to help the dying people of Gaza and the orphans in refugee camps, but we don't have kind words for those closest to us. We want so many things from God, but we seldom enter a masjid or sit on a musallah and give thanks for what we have. I mentioned in an earlier post that hardship and ease go hand in hand, because the presence of one defines or magnifies the other. The same applies to happiness and sadness, gratefulness and dire need, life and death. Without one we wouldn't recognise the other. I say this because I realised that while in Al Quds, I rarely asked Allah for anything tangible or material that I needed in my life, as opposed to during Hajj. I was often deeply just grateful for the present moment in all my duaas. Grateful to be alive, grateful for the opportunity of Hajj, grateful to be in relatively good health and good spirits, grateful to be in His holy city, and grateful to be with my parents and sister. Grateful that I don't live behind a concrete wall. Grateful that my identity isn't checked by armed soldiers several times a day. Grateful that security cameras don't watch my every move. Grateful that I don't have to stand in line at soup kitchens. I find myself wondering if things will change for the destitute of this world. I find myself wondering if the youth have it in themselves to change things. I wonder if the youth are ashamed enough of us that they intend to right the wrongs we have created. I sincerely hope they are ashamed of their predecessors. I hope they look back at us and find our ways of living prehistoric and unprogressive, so that they may change the world. Freedom from oppression for the people of Palestine, Syria, Yemen, the Rohingya, the entire bleeding African continent. Healing for our beautiful country South Africa as it navigates so much ugliness, bigotry, poverty and lack of empathy. All this I pray for in God's name, but hoping that human hearts get inspired to take action which is the essential element. We all have to find something worth dying for, because clinging to our mortal comforts won't appease out aching souls. We know what needs to be done, but don't know how to do it. I suppose the trick is to start small. Starting within our own communities causes boundless ripple effects. As Allah says in Surah Ar Rahman, “Can the reward for good be anything but good?” so what do we have to lose? I don't know, I suppose this city and this journey inspires one to do more, and be more. As my journey comes to an end I would just like to thank everyone who has been following these posts for their kind messages of encouragement. I hope it made you feel like you were with me on my journey. I hope you will forgive me if I portrayed any part of it in a negative light. Every single experience was exactly what was intended for me, and at the very least a lesson was learnt from my personal low points. So to conclude I suppose I will add my little concise list of suggestions to get the best out of your own journeys in the future Insha Allah: Be on your best behaviour in every one of the Holy cities. Know that Allah is All Knowing and All Seeing and poor manners and language are poor form for such blessed lands. Remember that the biggest component to an accepted Hajj is good manners at all times. Give charity all the time! Whether it is food, sweets, spare change, clothing or shoes you intend to ditch. Your reward is multiplied for such small acts. Remember that simply greeting someone, or smiling at them is charity! Whenever you say Assalaamualaykum to someone you are telling them that no harm will come to them from you. How beautiful. Make peace with cramped conditions and less than sanitary ablution facilities. You can't escape it, so prepare for it. Ladies, please choose loose, airy and breathable material for your cloaks and ihram. Summer in the desert will not be kind to you. I found something called Arthru-derm lotion, which is fragrance free anti inflammatory cream. I didn't suffer a single muscle ache while in ihram. Take your time during salaah in the 3 Haram, tawaaf and Sa'ee. You literally don't know if you will ever be able to be there again. Master Fardh wudhu, because it often isn't safe to put the water in your mouth in some places. Please eat figs from Palestine, while you're in Palestine (which by extension also means: Please go to Palestine. Eating them was the closest to heaven that I've ever been. If you know you're a queezy person who is prone to claustrophobia please extricate yourself from crowded situations. The Harams quieten down between salaahs, and your sanity is more important than praying up front and centre. Trust me, this was my biggest challenge and my biggest hindrance. Put a lot of effort and emotion into your Labaik. This is you declaring to Allah that you are present to bear witness to the blessings He has bestowed upon you. Don't worry about whether you're the only one doing it, or if you're off pitch. Do it silently if you have to. Just do it. You are 95% guaranteed to catch some kind of virus or cold from an infection. Boost your immune system before you leave. If you're South African, the food they serve you is highly heart burn inducing. Stock up on the antacids. Despite some people discouraging you from relaying the duaas of your dear one's on Arafat (it being difficult and time consuming), please do it! This is a once in a lifetime opportunity not just for yourself, but for you to represent your family, community, country, continent and planet even. Moulana Laily told us to make duaa for the creatures of the land, water and sky as well. I had an entire page dedicated to endangered animals and dying ecosystems, and making duaa for humans to stop demanding rhino horn, elephant tusks, rare exotic pets and the like. Do it! Wuqoof in Arafat is 6 hours long. Abu Darda reported: The Messenger of Allah, peace and blessings be upon him, said, “There is no Muslim servant who supplicates for his brother/sister behind his back but that the angels say: And for you the same.” How amazing? Go to Palestine. Have I said this already? Well, one more for the road: Go to Palestine. Not only is Palestine far more than bucket-list worthy, it is incumbent upon every believer to go. Drink lots of Laban if you aren't dairy intolerant. It's good. Talk to your fellow pilgrims. Learn new things. Remember their faces and their voices. I loved the way the Phillipinos recited their group Labaik. Stay in touch with the pilgrims you connected with. Not for WhatsApp group chats that involve funeral announcements and weekly Jumuah Mubarak messages, but a continuation of communication of experiences after pilgrimage. Just be kind, in general. All the time. Wherever you are in the world. May Allah, God, The Forces of the Universe be kind to you in return. Peace be with you all. Peace out.

[diariesofahajji]

Al Quds

One has so many ideas of what a trip to Bait al Maqdis would be like. There is so much rich history and architecture here. There are so many Aqsa Ziyarah guides to read, but so little time. There are so many references to the Holy City in the Quraan and hadith. The same can be said about Makkah and Madina. When people get to these places, many become flustered about which building is which, which parts are holier than the others (which part of the Raudah tul Jannah is the most rewarding for me, must I read Salaatul Tawaaf in front of the Maqam e Ibrahim???, is it better to read salaah in Masjid e Qibly or Qubbatul Saqarat - Dome of the Rock???). In truth, Allah selected Makkah for the building of Baitullah because it is directly under His ‘Arsh (Throne) and He picked Aqsa as the Holy City because it is directly under Sidratul Muntahaa. The Aqsa compound and Haram boundary are literally holy areas of land. One may pray anywhere within the boundaries and receive abundant reward for it. There is no need to worry about which gate one should enter from, or which section of the masjid is the holiest. One needn't worry about which supplication was read by a particular prophet in a particular Haram. The anxiety tends to be distracting. Yes, the supplications are truly beautiful and very fitting, but God knows our hearts better than we do. You do not need to ask God to forgive you in the exact words that Prophet Aadam (AS) used when he was cast away from Paradise. You don't need to memorise the supplication of the youth in the Cave of the Sleepers when making ziyarah there. One need only search one's own hearts, rest one's face down in honest and sincere sujood (bowing), facing Makkah in any of these holy cities, and all barriers between God and His servants dissappear. However, this is just my humble opinion. Now on to the reason you're reading this post: Al Quds, and more importantly Masjid Al Aqsa. After a delayed flight and negligible amount of sleep, we arrived at the Jordan-Israel border. Many in the group were tense, having shared stories from people who've been, about how they were treated at the border. It was slightly confusing, as there was one Israeli border agent who wished us all Hajj Mabroor with a big smile on his face, and then there were others who gave us steely looks and avoid any unnecessary contact. After some unnecessary waiting in a room (for about 2 or 3 hours) we were given our visas and ‘allowed’ to enter Israel. As we drove through a tunnel our Imam told us to keep our eyes peeled to the left of the bus as we exited it, and there it was in all its splendour, like a giant nugget of gold in a sand-heap: Qubbatus Saqqara (Dome of the Rock). I must give a huge shout out to the Umayyid Khaliph, Abdul Malik bin Marwan, for being so extra when he commissioned the building of the Dome of the Rock in 691 AD. It is truly breath-taking, at all times of the day and from every angle. Completely over the top, because its sole purpose is to enclose the rock formation which is most likely the location from which Prophet Muhammad ascended to the heavens for Mehraj. Nonetheless, beautiful it is and quite inviting for someone looking for a pretty spot to pray in. Directly across from it is Masjid e Qibly which was originally commissed by Umar ibn Khattab as a wooden structure that could house 3,000 congregants, but which was destroyed by earthquakes. Masjid e Qibly in its current form was built by the Umayyad Khalif Abdul Malik’s son Walid. A much more humble-looking mosque, but still there is an aire of peacefulness in its simplicity, with less for the eye to be distracted by. Our tour guide told us that building masjids around historically significant sites or around empty structures which commemorate dead Prophets, Sahaabas and saints, are all innovations and can lead people down paths very dangerously close to shirk (worshipping others besides Allah). It is so easy to walk into a masjid here and immediately feel tempted to whip out your phone and snap away at rock formations, or names of dead prophets on plaques. The tour guide said that prayer should be the first thing you do in a mosque, directed to God alone, and I fully agree. As beautiful as it all is, the supposed location where Mehraj happened does not matter. What matters is that Mehraj happened. Whether or not the Buraq was tied to a ring on a wall, the way a mortal animal gets tied up, is not important. What is important was that the other-worldly creature bore the Prophet of God beyond all the known physical layers of space and time, to a realm that no creature has entered before. The true essence of Aqsa is the imagery conjured up by its history. The imagery of the Jinns building mosques under the orders of Prophet Suleyman AS. The imagery of the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ being transported from Masjid al Haram to Al Aqsa (the journey of Isra’) and then up to the heavens for a direct discussion with God (mehraj). The imagery of the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ returning to Aqsa (once bare and mountainous lands, with none of the current mosques yet built) and leading 124,000 prophets in prayer as Imaam. When I contemplate this number of blessed congregants, it is hard not to imagine that a Prophet of God once stood where I am sitting right this moment, in Masjid e Qibly. The imagery of Umar ibn Khattab RA entering Baitul Maqdis with the Muslim army and the Mu'athin of Masjid e Nabawi, Bilal, to claim the city, years after Prophet Muhammad ﷺ had died. The imagery of Bilal being asked to recite the call to prayer and the tears that flowed from the entire army when he began, as all the men remembered the sight of their beloved Prophet Muhammad ﷺ leaving his home to walk to his mehrab for prayer during the recitation of athaan, a sight they will never see again. The imagery of the Christian soldiers looking on at this sight, and wondering what kind of man could stir such emotions in his followers. The imagery of the 2nd Khaliph of Islam signing a declaration offering safety and freedom of religious expression to all citizens within the city (this was long before the Declaration of Independence, mind you, and was the first document of its kind). The imagery of the slaughter of the Muslims, Christians and Jews living within the city at the hands of the Templar Knights many years later. The imagery of Salahuddin Ayoobi and his army recapturing Al Quds from the Templar Knights, offering the same terms of safety and religious freedoms as Umar ibn Khattab RA did. This is what brings tears to the eyes of those who visit Aqsa. The notion of what this blessed land means to so many people from so many faiths. The notion (as my family and I have been told by several Palestinians) that this land belongs to all Muslims, not just those born within its borders. All have claim to pray here, by the commandment of God, which is much stronger than those of any politician. This makes coming here so much more imperative. The things I feel cannot be adequately described in words. They have to be felt.

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The 6 days of Hajj

Day 1 - Yaumul Tarwiyah

Most of us set off from Aziziyah to Mina on foot. Genius over here decided to stop to tie her shoe laces with her heavy backpack on. When I stood up a very audible and tangible snap was felt in my ankle. I bit my lip to hide the tears and soldiered on chanting that God was sufficient for me, and the best disposer of my affairs, and furiously begging “save this ankle” the entire time, because the ankle is a particularly important part of the body required for pilgrimage. By the time I got to my tent and checked it to assess the damage, the ankle was completely healed, which astonished me because I know how much pain I was in not much earlier. It was like I was the opposite of Achilles, because every other part of my body, besides my ankle, was in intense pain. Worth noting that maybe very specific supplications aren't always the best idea.

On the first day of Hajj there are no prescribed forms of ibaadah, so the day is spent in contemplation of the days to come (Yaumul Arafat and eid) and also contemplating the requests you have for God and the misdeeds you seek forgiveness for. It was also a day for engaging with your fellow pilgrims and discussing your experiences up to now. I happened to meet some fellow cat lovers, which was great because nothing draws me out of myself more than talking about Pippin. I'm not a mother, and haven't left human babies behind, but i do miss my kitty. He's my friend, who purrs my troubles away. Anyway, in the evening a storm hit Makkah and shook our humble tents in Mina rather violently. As I mentioned before, our Sheikh recited Ar Rahmaan in the middle of the storm and urged us to be more in awe of God's power than afraid. There was no point being afraid, because no matter what we did to hold the tent together, if God wanted to level it with all of us in it, He could've. Was God flexing a proverbial muscle to remind us of His Majesty? Was God sweeping our sins to Arafat a day ahead of us? Maybe the winds simply swept through to purify us for our departure to the holy centre of this planet, where Adam and Eve met after being cast out of Paradise, and where the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ delivered his last sermon, Arafat.

Day 2 - Yaumul Arafat

The typical story: Busses are delayed, poor communication results in people standing in exposed sunlight for extended periods of time. We were mostly dehydrated before we got to Arafat. An old lady saw me crouched on the floor and offered me her toasted almonds and apple juice. Her kindness revived me more than her food. Due to the temperature teetering close to 50 degrees Celsius when wuqoof started, we confined ourselves to the hot and overcrowded tent. It was hard to form a spiritual connection in these conditions. I remember crying back in Joburg when I put together my duaa book. I felt a spiritual connection then. I remember sitting in the Raudah in Madina and feeling the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ gazing at me with love and acknowledgement. I remember looking at the Kaba and feeling that there were no barriers between God and me. However in Arafat, all I could see when I looked up was a dusty tent wall. Reading through my prayer book felt like I was reading a shopping list. So I mustered up as much sincerity as I could and remembered that just physically being in this holy place helped, I remembered that the fact that I was a guest of God personally called to complete my Hajj helped, I remembered that as long as I am here (no matter what state I am in) my prayers will be answered. I've heard that with every tread of the camel that brings you to pilgrimage, a sin is wiped away. I've come from the other end on the world oh Lord, to bear witness to the favours You have bestowed upon me my whole life, and to ask that You continue to provide for me for my remaining days. Please forgive me fatigue. See that I come to you now in humbleness, clinging to my waning attention span, trying to remain awake throughout wuqoof so that i may praise you the best way I know how. Please Allah, even if my humble little duaa book did little justice, please search my heart, Oh All Seeing, All Knowing, The Omnipotent, find my deepest desires and grant those which You believe are best for me.

Once wuqoof ended we began our 14km trek to Muzdalifa to spend the night sleeping on the ground under the stars (which were completely hidden due to light pollution). As we passed Jab Al Rahmah I read the Nabi ﷺ ‘s last sermon out loud for my mother:

O People, lend me an attentive ear, for I know not whether after this year, I shall ever be amongst you again.  Therefore, listen to what I am saying to you very carefully and take these words to those who could not be present here today.

O People, just as you regard this month, this day, this city as Sacred, so regard the life and property of every Muslim as a sacred trust.  Return the goods entrusted to you to their rightful owners. Hurt no one so that no one may hurt you. Remember that you will indeed meet your Lord, and that He will indeed reckon your deeds.  God has forbidden you to take usury (interest), therefore all interest obligation shall henceforth be waived. Your capital, however, is yours to keep. You will neither inflict nor suffer any inequity.

Beware of Satan, for the safety of your religion.  He has lost all hope that he will ever be able to lead you astray in big things, so beware of following him in small things.

O People, it is true that you have certain rights with regard to your women, but they also have rights over you.  Remember that you have taken them as your wives only under a trust from God and with His permission. If they abide by your right then to them belongs the right to be fed and clothed in kindness.  Do treat your women well and be kind to them for they are your partners and committed helpers. And it is your right that they do not make friends with any one of whom you do not approve, as well as never to be unchaste.

O People, listen to me in earnest, worship God, perform your five daily prayers, fast during the month of Ramadan, and offer Zakat.  Perform Hajj if you have the means.

All mankind is from Adam and Eve.  An Arab has no superiority over a non-Arab, nor does a non-Arab have any superiority over an Arab; a white has no superiority over a black, nor does a black have any superiority over a white; [none have superiority over another] except by piety and good action.  Learn that every Muslim is a brother to every Muslim and that the Muslims constitute one brotherhood. Nothing shall be legitimate to a Muslim which belongs to a fellow Muslim unless it was given freely and willingly. Do not, therefore, do injustice to yourselves.

Remember, one day you will appear before God and answer for your deeds.  So beware, do not stray from the path of righteousness after I am gone.

O People, no prophet or apostle will come after me, and no new faith will be born.  Reason well, therefore, O people, and understand words which I convey to you. I leave behind me two things, the Quran and my example, the Sunnah, and if you follow these you will never go astray.

All those who listen to me shall pass on my words to others and those to others again; and it may be that the last ones understand my words better than those who listen to me directly.  Be my witness, O God, that I have conveyed your message to your people.”

It was at this point, in Arafat, that the following revelation was sent down to Nabi ﷺ: "…This day have I perfected your religion for you, completed My Grace upon you, and have chosen Islam for you as your religion…" (Quran 5:3)

It looked to me like 70% of all the pilgrims were making this trip on foot. The people on busses on the Bridges above us said we look like flowing water, all walking in the same direction. Almost floating. We took our sweet time, because there was literally nowhere else we had to be in the world. Some chanted Labaik in solemn and uniform minor chords which punctuated their reverence and struggle. As if in marching formation, they proclaimed to God that they were present for service. Others chanted Labaik in perfect harmonies of major chords, and it was as if the sound fluttered around your ears like tiny butterflies. It lifted the spirit and urged me on. I suppose some find Imaan in the solemnity and humility of prayer, and others find Imaan in the colour, music and harmony of this life. It wasn't difficult for me to decide which group I belonged to. We Labaiked our way to our resting place for the night, Muzdalifa. Ahead of us we saw the clock tower, sparkling like the Eiffel Tower, in celebration of Eid. It beckoned to us for Tawaaf e Ziyarah/Ifaadha, but it was just out of reach for the present moment. So we collected some pebbles, took selfies with Palestinians and rested our tired bones for the night.

Day 3 - Eid Ul Adha

At around 10am we walked to the Jamarat Complex to pelt the biggest Jamarah, Aqabah. There are three stone pillars which are pelted 7 times. The biggest of them, Aqabah, commemorates Abraham’s stoning of the devil when he tried to convince Abraham not to sacrifice his son, Ishmael. The second biggest, Wusta, commemorates Hajira’s stoning of the devil when he tried to convince her to stop the sacrificing of her son, Ishmael. The smallest, Oola, commemorates Ishmael’s stoning of the devil when he tried to convince Ishmael to put an end to his own sacrificing. Such was the firmness of their faith. From a less literal perspective, the stoning is symbolic of the pilgrim casting off their lower selves and more baser desires/needs. One also casts off a major sin with each stone throw. We were told that the devil is as close to us all as the blood in our veins. Although the evil forces of this universe were dealt a humiliating blow on Arafat, with the sins of the pilgrims being forgiven, the work of misleading Believers doesn't stop. It was hard to imagine that the devil was absent at “his” own stoning. There was violence in the eyes of people casting stones. One man charged straight through the crowd with a menacing smile on his face, which didn't look normal to me. Thousands have died in the Jamarat Complex because people lose all sense of reserve and decorum. Some primal force takes over their minds. Thereafter we waited for confirmation that our animal sacrifice had been done, cut our hair, and were officially out of the condition of Ihram. After resting for the afternoon we decided to make our way to Masjid al Haram at about 9pm for Tawaaf e Ziyarah which is a compulsory act of Hajj, and the Sa'ee which is waajib (not compulsory, but if excluded without a valid reason requires a sacrifice/charitable offering). Road Travel during the 5 days of Hajj is a nightmare! It seems that only official taxi drivers and SAPTCO busses are allowed anywhere near the Haram, and you often spend an entire week's salary on a one way trip (slight exaggeration). However, we've been told that God in His infinite Bounty and Mercy will return every cent to us which was spent during pilgrimage, so we quietly allowed them to extort us. Being drivers in Johannesburg, my mother and I happily navigated (I mean pushed our way) through the crowded Tawaaf and Sa'ee. By the time we returned to our camp, the Athan for Tahajjud began (3:30am), which meant we were gone for a full 6 hours!! So we soldiered on through our camp’s fajr salaah in congregation. Thereafter our Sheikh, who is a convert, decided to tell us his entire journey to Islam, which although interesting, could've been kept for a more reasonable hour in the day. My mother, sister and I nodded deeply off somewhere in the autobiography around the time he had to be circumcised before he could take his Shahaadah (pledge of Imaan).

Day 4, 5 and 6- 3 Days of Yaumul Tashreeq:

The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ said concerning the days of Tashreeq: “They are days of eating, drinking and remembering Allah.” Which is basically all that we did. More enlightening discussions were had, and more socialising was done. People shared what little provisions they had left, shared stories, hopes and dreams. I had a fantastic discussion with a fellow Hujaaj after pelting the Jamarat at night on one of the days of Tashreeq. We talked about everything from Oedipus Rex to Catherine de Medici, Machiavelli, to the meaning of dreams and Plato and our recognition of the form of things from our time in the spiritual realms. She comforted me immensely regarding my primitive notions of what a sin is. She told me that unless I had murdered/harmed someone without cause, or stolen the property of another, any other action in itself is not a sinful thing. It is the intention behind it, and the end (which the action is a means to) which causes the rifts between humans and God. It makes sense that God doesn't forbid certain acts and behaviours for what they are. They are forbidden because of what they draw out of us. They are forbidden because we are weak creatures with very little self control and often very little accountability. There are some questionable acts that unravel the very fabric of our societies and beings. Many may claim that they are highly functional (and often highly spiritual) alcohol drinkers, or drug users. However, as our Sheikh told us, we have a very finely tuned sin-detector inside of us, our hearts. Our hearts feel very uneasy when we partake in things that we wouldn't want anyone to know about firstly, and secondly that causel a feeling of unease inside us. Possessing taqwa requires us to ask ourselves the following question before every action, even before every thought: Would Allah be happy with me if I did/thought this?

Would I be happy with me if I did/thought this?

Armed with my new outlook on action vs intention I now have a more healthy outlook on halaal vs haraam. The lady I spoke to also told me that I was immensely fortunate to have made this journey as a 29 year old unmarried and childless woman, because I'm young enough to reinvent myself without major repurcussions and old enough to have the mental capacity to appreciate this journey. I am starting a new book of life from this day onwards, the same as the day that I was born. A second chance at life. Any Believer would tell you that Paradise is the ultimate attainment, and that it is within reach after pilgrimage, but i am excited for this life! I am excited to approach it with fresh eyes. I am excited to partake in all the halaal enjoyment that this world has to offer me, and I am excited to do my bit to leave this world just a little bit better than I found it.

The three days of Tashreeq passed as such, pelting, eating heartburn-inducing curries, sharing advice on how best to survive the toilets of Mina and remembering God. By the morning of the 6th day of Hajj we were happily on our way back to Aziziyah, which had beds and showers that were completely separate from the toilet :)

[diariesofahajji]

فَبِأَيِّ آلاءِ رَبِّكُمَا تُكَذِّبَانِ

Sheikh Irshaad just gave us a fitting analogy about a wooden stick. If you saw a stick that you needed to use you would first test its strength. You would bend, twist and manipulate it right to the brink of its breaking point, without actually breaking it. This is not only how we test the stick's physical strength, but also its ability to serve/support us. Likewise this is how God tests us. If you cruise through life, you're doing life wrong. If you've never been completely shattered, then God has not selected you for spiritual fitness assessment. Like the kid who never gets picked by either soccer team.

Let's be straight: Hajj is not physically or emotionally easy, but the hardship not only highlights the beauty of the journey, it enhances it a million times over. There is a great attainment at the end of an accepted Hajj, in the form of acceptance of your prayers and your repentance, and in order to deserve rewards that lofty you have to go through some hardship. There have been several times when my family and I have reached our respective breaking points, but have found that for some reason we always had another 2km or 2 rakaahs of Tahajjud left in us.

You read books written about Hajj in which people say that you can hear, feel, taste, smell the divinity during the 5 days. Apparently at sunset on Yaumul Arafat people have felt God's mercy descending onto them. In Muzdalifa the only thing I saw, heard and smelt was the toilet we decided to set up base camp in front of. You can't see my facial expression, but i relay this bit of info with a big smile on my face. This is the joke that my family and I share, that our spiritual experience of Muzdalifa involved a toilet! For me, the spiritual experience was a lot less poetic and a lot more internally meaningful. For me, at several points over the last few days, God touched my soul, comforted me and gave me redemption through the quran. One evening the Imaam read Surah Ash Sharh (The Relief):

In the name of Allah, the Beneficent, the Merciful:

“Did We not expand for you, oh Muhammad, your breast?

And we removed from you your burden,

Which had weighed upon your back,

And raised high for you your repute.

For indeed with hardship will be ease.

Indeed, with hardship will be ease.

So when you have finished your duties, stand up for worship,

And to your Lord direct your longing.”

When I was shattered on physical and emotional plains, these verses became God's direct communication with me.

INDEED WITH HARDSHIP WILL BE EASE..

Hand in hand, side by side. Not one preceding the other. Humans just choose to fixate on the hardship alone.

On another occasion in the midst of a storm which shook our humble tents, the Imaam fulfilled my longing to hear Surah Ar Rahmaan (The Merciful) read aloud in congregation. I had previously asked one of the moulanas to recite it in Jamaat as if it was a 5FM song request. He smiled and never did, but on the day of the storm, when God showed us an inkling of His Might and Dominion over this earth, the recitation was perfectly timed.

In the name of Allah, the Beneficent, the Merciful:

“He is the Lord of the two sunrises and two sunsets.

So which of your Lord's favours would you deny?

He released the two seas meeting side by side, between them is a barrier which neither of them transgressed.

So which of your Lord's favours would you deny?

EVERYONE UPON THIS EARTH WILL PERISH.

And there will remain the Face of your Lord, owner of Majesty and Honour.

So which of your Lord's favours would you deny?”

Everyone upon this earth will perish….. Whether or not you believe in God, this statement is a universal truth. Accept it for what it is: not a slogan for the defeatists or nihilists, but a statement which should make you re-evaluate your life. Everyone upon this earth will perish, so why are you living as if you won't? Why are you acting like you have so much time?

Put your hands on your chest, feel the rhythm. So which of your Lord's favours would you deny? Your tent is crap, but people are sleeping on each other in the pedestrian walkways. So which of your Lord's favours would you deny? Your toilet smells bad, but whether you're the princess of Sweden or penniless you both have to use the same one. So which of your Lord's favours would you deny? Your bus to Muzdalifa is in standstill traffic for 4 hours to a destination that is 8km away. You look out of the window and see a woman walking with a baby in one hand and all her possessions in the other. Your heart is heavy with impatience, but she has no burden because she left it in Arafat. So which of your Lord's favours would you deny? When my diabetic mother is about to collapse, and a dry, stale waffle revives her. So which of your Lord's favours would you deny? When you abstractly pray for Palestinian people daily, then meet one who embraces you and tells you that you are his people. So which of your Lord's favours would you deny? When you turn to your left in tawaaf to frown at the person pushing their way out, then glimpse the Kaaba and forget your annoyance, forget your thoughts, time stands still, hours pass but you still don't feel quite ready to leave. So which of your Lord's favours would you deny? When you put your hands on the Kaaba wall and can't tell where the kiswa ends and the night sky starts, and you stray from the physical realm briefly. So which of your Lord's favours would you deny? When the pain in your limbs is a reminder that you have limbs. So which of your Lord's favours would you deny? Seriously, which? I'll wait.

[diariesofahajji]

Reflections of Aziziyah

I am so thankful for the ability to rest! I am so thankful for the short respite from the crowds, and a version of me that I dislike: One who is easily annoyed and inflexible. I am thankful for the calmness of Aziziyah which allows me to reflect on the gloriousness of the past 2 weeks, but also introspect on how I can be better.

An accepted Hajj is one in which I spend the 5 or 6 days of pilgrimage performing the rituals with good manners, patience, a soft temperament and helpfulness towards others. The next element to an accepted Hajj is how my life changes when I get home. Does it need to change? Who doesn't need change in their lives?

There are people who weigh my spirit down with defeatism, nihilism and pessimism. I need to cast them off. There are people who could help my spirit soar weightlessly because of their faith and optimism for the future - I need to seek them out.

I will soon repent for my major sins, already having regretted them bitterly, and must remain steadfast in avoidance of such things from here onwards. When in Arafat and when pelting the Jamarat in Mina one must visualise each sin, seek repentance for it and cast them off. As I sit here in Aziziyah, having been afforded some spare time, I tearfully make a list of misdeeds. It is a sobering experience, but also very encouraging knowing that I will leave them all behind (symbolically) on the plains of Arafat and in Mina, with 110% conviction that my Lord is ready to forgive me. Any doubt regarding His ability to forgive is a sin that can't be pelted away or shirked off.

I put my name on the list to go for Hajj in June 2014, one month after my angel of a nephew was born. I remember feeling at the time that my family and I were being called by God to embark on pilgrimage, but feeling sad that the wait would be 4 years. I had no idea back then, that 4 months after putting my name on the SAHUC list my 6 month old nephew would die and my world as I knew it would change. I had no idea that I would spend the next 4 years questioning and reshaping my previous notions of what faith was. I had no idea that I could be so distanced from God and feel so desolate. I had no idea that the world and the inside of my mind could feel so dark at times. I had no idea that human beings could be so destructive by nature (myself included). I only recently realised that people and things will never fill the gaping hole that now resides where my bright and bubbly personality once was.

When I found out in January this year that after 4 years my time had come for Hajj, I marvelled at God's wisdom behind the 4 year wait. If I had embarked on Hajj at any point prior to this year I might've scorned the entire process or found little meaning in it for me (given the mental space I was in). All praise to God, with anti - anxiety medication and some therapy I recently found my footing again; and through highly inspirational Hajj prep classes with Dr Mahmood Kola I finally started to reconnect with my creator. I spent entire nights crying and sobbing while talking to Him, I would spend hours reading thikr (which my cat seemed to enjoy), I rediscovered His Majesty through reading the Quran and seeing the positive changes that remembrance of God brought to my life.

This is probably quite a deep post for sleepy Aziziyah, but it is a point of reflection and inflection for me. The gaping hole is still there, but is slowly filling up with light. I will never be the same person I used to be 4 years ago when I put my name on the list thinking that I had everything that I needed in this life, but then life check-mated me and brought me to my knees. I broke open and God's light glued the broken pieces like the Japanese art of Kinstugi. Now there is beauty in my cracks. My cracks have made me more whole than I've ever been. I go now to pilgrimage clinging to all my pieces for dear life eager and excited to meet the woman who comes out on the other end!

[diariesofahajji]

Makkah - Day 7-11

Makkah was a mixed bag of emotions and experiences for me. Madina was blissful when compared to Makkah, but as Skeikh Walls told us, according to Chaos Theory, if you add even a single new variable to a predictable pattern you may get chaos. Even the fluttering of a butterfly’s wings might alter the weather. Imagine 100,000s (if not already millions) of individuals in the same place at the same time, doing the same things. Varying levels of cleanliness, manners, patience, body diameters and vocal volumes all thrown into one masjid. The variables have been thrown into the cauldron, the Athan (call to prayer) is the catalyst. The resultant chemical reaction is not what you think. Not the chaos I've been talking about. As soon as the Imaam asks us to pack in, and says Allahu Akbar, the variables all become static and silent, even though we were all frantically pacing about seconds before that. Why? Because the refrain “Allahu Akbar” (God is great) which is repeated throughout the salaah, is meant to humble us immediately! Immediately we are called to attention by our Captain for our reason for being there! All that can be heard throughout the masjid compound is the imam’s voice, the chirping birds and some Indonesian aunty’s electro-pop ringtone. Even the guards will temporarily stop violently yelling at women for existing near men, for those brief moments during Fardh salaah. But once you greet the angel on your left shoulder, reality kicks back in and you're sure to be kicked in the head by the ou who's rushing to tawaaf, have your bag thrown at you by a guard to get you to move to an area where you won't be able to tempt a member of the opposite sex, you'll find that two new people have squeezed themselves into the space next to you and avert eye contact with you lest they should glimpse your disapproving glare. When the siff (formation line for prayer) is created, you'll find yourself shifting and kneeling onto someone else’s prayer mat. You'll find that another has knelt on yours, and has left their snot, tears, weight of their sins, some spilt orange juice, pistachio shells and blessings behind on it as well. There is no sense being angry about it for too long. Yes it does hurt one's feelings to be yelled at aggressively, fall prey to perverted individuals as you circuit the kaba along with 1000s and have plastic barriers forced on your head while in sujood, eyes on the ground humbling yourself at your lowest point before God: who wouldn't feel hurt? We're not all Gandhi. The trick is not to retaliate harshly. Every person is responsible for his or her actions only. I couldn't turn around and scream at the old lady who incessantly poked me in my back (while I was praying) to get me to voetsek. All I did was calmly voetsek and then laugh to my heart’s content when I later found out from my mother that she fell off her chair shortly after I left. God hears and sees all! My point is not to complain, but to tell the prospective Hujaaj and Umrah-goers to be mentally prepared for the intensity of Makkah. God sends down 120 blessings on every individual in the Haram: 60 for those who make tawaaf (circumambulate), 40 for those who offer prayer and 20 for those who simply stare at the kaba. Important to note: Although it is nice to pray on the mataaf and thereby accumulate 60 of those blessings by being in one spot, you have to contend with limited space, lack of tolerance for women being present there, and BUSTLE! so by all means, pray there, but expect to be packed in like sardines in a can of germs. If this is not for you, then don't be disheartened. There is ample room to pray on the rooftop or in the newly constructed King Fahd Expansion area. Even though you can't see the kaaba from there, you have significantly more room to breathe. Get 40 blessings just for praying and then make your way to the mataaf later to stare at Baitullah to your heart’s content.

If you're the type of person who thrives on predictability then adjust your expectations, is all I'm saying. Make room for the unpredictable. This is Hajj. All knowledge of the future rests with God. Rest assured that even with limited comfort and maximum intensity, you are having the exact experience that God wants you to have, for your own personal growth. Perhaps I am a little arrogant and prissy. Perhaps there is still room for growth in this mind of mine.

On my last day of Makkah I gave up on trying to pray on the mataaf (ground floor) as my mother and sister often did, and prayed under the twilight sky on the rooftop with enough space and ease. Once done, I walked down to the ground floor to gaze at the kaba one last time before leaving, and then felt inspired to join the post-fajr tawaaf. It was almost as if God was telling me: Come, my servant. Reconnect with the reason you're here: to worship me! Ask my forgiveness for your feelings of annoyance towards those who stole your comfort from you, because this is My house (not yours) and all are welcome. And let Me embrace you before Hajj.

So one arm out to my side to stop pushing, and the other arm behind my back to ward off perverts, I made my way around the kaba 7 times alternating between the following supplications:

Oh God, grant me good in this world, good in the afterlife and protection from the punishment of Hell fire.

There is no God but Allah.

Glory and Praise be to God. There is none worthy of worship besides God, and He is the greatest! There is no might and power except with God, the Exalted One, The Great.

Sufficient for me is God, and He is the best disposer of affairs.

There was a man with no legs dragging himself across the mataaf with his arms to complete his tawaaf!!!!! Who am I to be sad about petty things? God is the disposer of affairs, and in God's hands is the ability to judge those who wrong themselves and others. Remember that all those who have hurt you will fall off their chairs, figuratively speaking, whether in front of you or not, whether now or in the future.

Just do yourself a favour, if you are fortunate enough to join the throng of tawaafis one day, block out the crowd of millions, block out the demons without and within, stare up at the cube covered in its glorious Kiswah (Black sheet), Remember God, and He will remember you, and be grateful to God and do not deny Him. Surah Baqarah: 152

[diariesofahajji]

Ya Wida'a Al Madina

Today we make our way to Makkah. It was a sad parting with the beautiful city, but as the farewell durood to our Nabi ﷺ goes: Ya Wida’a Ya Rasoolullah (This is farewell Oh Prophet of God), Ya Firawqu Ya Rasoolullah (This is separation, Oh Prophet of God), Ya Feesawla Ya Rasoolullah (May God perpetuate our meeting Oh Prophet of God). This is just a farewell until the next time. Not goodbye.

So until the next time (that I rest my forehead on the rose scented red carpets of the masjid, roll my eyes at the Mursheeda who lovingly yell “Hajja! Hajja!”, or playfully chuckle every time the imam says “Istooooow”) I am deeply grateful to God for the opportunity to visit Madina, and grateful to the Nabi ﷺ for hosting me.

So I put on my ihram (garment for umrah - which is a lesser/minor pilgrimage to Makkah) and stopped for the ihram prayer at Masjid Miqat Dhul Hulifa in Bir Ali. It is customary to stop here to pray and make one's intention for umrah when approaching Makkah from Madina.

I was “challenged” or “tested” by the flat toilets there. So with pants, dress, headscarf and underwear flung over my shoulder and feet searching for a dry spot on the floor wet with who knows what, I relieved myself and made my ablutions for prayer. When I got back on the bus I watched Moulana Abdurrahman’s video clip asking us to remember the spiritual tranquility we felt in Madina, telling us that God will love us if we love his Nabi ﷺ, live with his qualities and act on his sunnahs… So I decided that this was an opportunity to be thankful for how rich my life is, that I can afford the luxuries that I have, and be thankful that this was just a temporary stop to the ultimate destination: MAKKAH!

The highway to Makkah is lined with small ‘Thikr Street signs’ which include Allahu akbar, Alhamdulillah, Thikrullah and Subhaanallah. I suppose they fulfil more purpose than ‘STOP’, ‘CONSTRUCTION AHEAD’ or ‘YIELD’, because remembering the One in whose hands your protection ultimately lies is the most important thing.

[diariesofahajji]

Madina Day 3

It feels like we've been in Madina for so much longer than 2.5 days. Maybe that's because the Nabi ﷺ has made his home my home too during my stay. He has made me feel like a local. At just past midnight this morning I had the privilege of bowing on the sliver of green carpet which demarcates the Raudahtul Jannah (garden of paradise). Abu Hurairah (literally translates to Father of kittens, which I just love) spent a lot of time with the beloved Prophet ﷺ, and narrated that on one occasion the Prophet said:

“Between my house and my pulpit lays a garden from the gardens of Paradise, and my pulpit is upon my fountain, Al-Kauthar.” [Bukhari]. It is also said that one who sets foot in paradise will never enter hell, so naturally I not only wanted to set foot in it, but wanted to firmly plant my entire body on it for as long as possible, but that was not to be, because 100s of women wanted to set foot in paradise at the same time. There was a tense atmosphere of people waiting impatiently for their turn as we were herded by the Mursheeda (female scholars/ushers) covered from head to toe black and standing with a firm authoritative stance maintaining order, yelling in multiple languages for women to be calm and have patience. I read once that upon entering the Raudah one should behave as if one was meeting the Nabi ﷺ in person. I know that if I was to meet him I would hang back, lower my gaze and tone, and wait for him to approach and engage me. It is said that one should approach the resting place of the Nabi ﷺ with total composure. A woman may express her emotions with her face and heart, but not her tongue, hands and feet. Yet there was shoving, pushing, aggression, wailing. None of the behaviours fitting of a visit to such a noble man… but I digress…

I know that billions of people have visited the Raudah, but how can that normalise the experience for a first-timer whose life has just changed forever? As I mentioned in a previous post, the Nabi ﷺ responded to MY salutation! He said: I see you there. I acknowledge your salutation and I return it one better. To have your greeting returned by the master of the Muslim nation? Are there words for that? The tears that flowed were a release of all the feelings I used to have that Allah and the Nabi ﷺ had better things to do than listen to my prayers. I'm done with that way of thinking, because of all the small miracles I have experienced in my time here in Madina. For example, everytime I enter the masjid, fill my bottle with zamzam water, read Bismillah and take a sip, I ask for certain physical cures (Oh God with this water cure my sore throat, cure the headache that's brewing, cure my heartburn, please lower my body temperature, and most significantly Please help me sleep tonight without the use of sleeping pills). I kid you not, within minutes my ailments disappear. I have been an insomniac dependent on sleeping pills for over a year now. In Madina I had my first pill-free sleep in ages. Placebo effect the sceptics will say. Taqwa effect I say.

I think the Imaan of the modern Muslim is a beautiful thing, because some 1400 years ago when Nabi ﷺ lived, people were inspired to islam by the mere presence of him, and those who needed a little (or alot) more persuasion were given miracles from Allah (be it the splitting of the moon, Allah revealing secret conversations of the enemies of Islam to the Nabi ﷺ, or the angels making themselves visible to the on-the-fencers. Some of those who reluctantly accepted Islam, and even the enemies of Islam at their deaths, then gave birth to generations of devout Muslims. This is indicated in Surah Al Kauthar where God tells Muhammad ﷺ that his enemies will have no posterity. The modern Muslim relies on these secret everyday miracles to bring them closer to God. There are no burning bushes or booming voices in the sky for us, but a quiet reassurance that we are all being protected and that our Nabi ﷺ will intercede on our behalf to protect us from punishment. This is the beauty I speak of. The only tangible evidence a believer has of their faith is the Quran and the first hand accounts from the Prophet's companions about his guidance. Almost 1500 years have passed since his birth, but we continue to believe not because anyone has forced us to believe, but often in spite of the fact. May God cast a gaze of love, mercy and gratefulness on all the people of the book who hold fast in their beliefs despite their natural inclination to find substance in every feeling and proof for every opinion or notion. May God also be accepting of the good deeds and righteous acts of the ones who waiver when it comes to their belief in a higher power and lead them to a better understanding of how the universe works.

After visiting the Raudah I went to Jab Al Uhud (the battle of the pit, and the soldiers who disobeyed the Nabi ﷺ ‘s orders. May God forgive us for our sins as he forgave the archers for abandoning their posts thereby turning the tide in favour of the enemies of Islam. May God bless the martyrs of the battle of Uhud who fought fiercely to protect the fledgling Islamic faith, so that it wasn't struck down before it could dig its roots deep into the ground, or spread its wings and fly.

“Verily Mount Uhud loves us and we love it.”- Muhammad ﷺ. I lost my footing on the hill of the archers and stained my cream coloured dress with sand from the hill. Yet within minutes the sand wiped away without the use of a single drop of water. Clearly this isn't any normal mountain. May God bless your every grain of sand, stone and plant Jab Al Uhud, for defending the people of faith.

May God bless the inhabitants of Quba’a for their purity, for the fact that they gave Muhammad ﷺ refuge and provision for a short time on his way to Madina, and for the provision of the location of the very first mosque in history. Interestingly, a property must fulfill certain requirements before it can be called a mosque:

It must be a place of prayer

It must be a place where Islam is taught and learned

It must be a place where charity is disbursed; and

The property must be provided in waqf (trust) meaning that it cant have an owner and therefore be sold.

When Masjid e Quba’a was built, Masjid ul Haram in Makkah still housed pagan idols, and therefore is not technically the first Islamic masjid ever built in the lifetime of Muhammad ﷺ.

The last stop today was Masjid e Qiblatain (the mosque of two Qiblas). Muslims used to pray towards Masjid ul Aqsa in Jerusalem, until God revealed instruction to Muhammad ﷺ telling him to turn towards Makkah during prayer, as God sees that the Nabi often turned towards Makkah after prayer out offondness and yearning for the city. When this revelation came, the men in this masjid were halfway through Asr salaah, and when they were told of it, they turned 180 degrees and faced Makkah for the rest of the prayer.

[diariesofahajji]

Madina

During their perilous journey from Makkah to Madina, the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ (Peace and blessings be upon him) and his companion Abu Bakr Siddique had to hide in a cave which shielded them from their enemies with a tree that sprang up over night at the mouth of the cave, a fresh spider web and a sparrow that appeared to be nesting an egg there for some time. Like there probably wasn't even an egg under her. Some of the Muhaajireen (Immigrants) were prevented from making the journey to Madina under the threat of imprisonment by the Quraysh tribe of Makkah, who wanted to put an end to Islam. Knowing this, I contemplated the high degree of ease with which I entered Madina (insomnia, turbulence and crying babies aside) and thought that it was not the actual land that the Muhaajireen were willing to die to reach, the same as Moses's followers, but rather the idea of freedom and the willingness to be near to their enigmatic leader. The type of human being who inspired a nation and continues to inspire billions today, is one who cried for us, fought for us, bled for us, and will continue to plead for our salvation until the moment that out true purpose is finally illuminated.

How fitting then that my journey begins by paying a visit / paying respect / paying homage to the man who envisioned a better world for us all. May he accept my visit to his city and may my name be spoken of favourably by him, as his is spoken by my lips and heart every single day. May I earn his love before I take my leave of Madina.

They say he is alive in his grave, returning every salutation which is dedicated to him there, on the sliver of green carpet in front of his resting place. The Beloved Prophet ﷺ is returning my greeting! This is how fortunate and special I am. This is also how special the woman fast asleep across two prayer spaces in the mosque is, and the woman who smells like she hasn't had a bath in days. He welcomes us all to his city, with equal amounts of courteousness, so my judgement is wholly unnecessary. It is true what everyone says about Madina: Yes there is peace here, but not the kind of peace where everything is calm and orderly, but the type of peace that is inspired, where women who have never met before (because they are separated by continents) would offer you their prayer mat so that you don't have to pray on the hard marble floor. The kind of insane bustle that brings you peace by distracting you from the inane BS that keeps you up at night in your normal life. The kind of peace in the Imam's voice that causes every cell in the bodies of 100,000s of congregants to vibrate in unison. But this is what Hajj and Umrah are, not a couple million separate individuals (as diverse as their faces, clothes, races and manners of worship are), but rather one homogenous Ummah, united in a common cause. I haven't fathomed yet, just how beautiful that is. I haven't yet immersed myself in the masses, or gotten lost in it, out of fear of injury or losing my individuality maybe. If God wills it, in the days to come, I will find my place in the line of pilgrims making their way on the road to fulfilling the biggest oath we'll ever pledge in our lives.