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Reflections on Haj

The conditions for an accepted towbah are, remorse, making amends and a sincere intention not to commit the sin again. Back-biting or similar offenses are best amended by making dua for the person, doing/giving sadaqa in their name or the like. Going up to a person and telling them you have been talking or talked behind their back will only make things worse. For those of you leaving to haj soon, I include part of a letter I wrote to someone concerning her trip to haj. May it be helpful and please do remember us in your dua. Two thoughts stay with me from my first haj. One was the shock with which I discovered that I remained very much a mortal there. I was under some impression that as soon as I saw the Kaba it would be pretty much a spiritual experience and nothing less. I found out to my chagrin and great annoyance that one still had to heed such human needs as sleep and looking for a bathroom. I remember once having walked for so many hours (I was afraid of the driving there and declined riding taxis!) that as soon as I prayed Asr in a mosque on our way home, I fell into a deep sleep in sujood. The women there thought I had passed out. So, that was a disappointment that your body still existed and had needs.

Dhul-Hijjah Preparation: amanas and towbah

Our second step in getting ready for Dhul Hijjah is returning all amanas to their owners. In fact it is a good idea to have a place close to the front door where you place all borrowed items that need to be returned, so they do not get mixed up with your things and you forget they were borrowed. Keeping items from their owners through negligence or forgetfulness is a serious matter. Take three days to go through your house for any book, clothing or appliance that is not yours. Rack your brain and go through your papers for any money you owe anyone, or that was given to you to give away as sadaqa that is still sitting around. Sadaqa money that has not been dispensed with on time will bring darkness and heaviness into the home.

The Prerequisite of Towbah: halal money

Soon we conclude the month of Dhul Qi`da and then comes the month of Dhul Hijjah, the month of haj. Before one goes on haj, one must repent from all wrong he has done, reconcile with all people and learn about the rites of haj. For those of us not going on haj, the Prophet SAW says that good deeds are most beloved to God in the first ten days of Dhul Hijjah. May we succeed in taking advantage of these special days. The Prerequisite of Towbah: The path to pleasing our Creator and gaining Allah’s rida has been the preoccupation of humans in general and Muslims in particular throughout the ages. A student once asked his teacher, “What is the first step to pleasing Allah?” His teacher said, “Repentance.” Upon hearing from another sheikh otherwise, he returned to his teacher and said, “You said that the first step was repentance, but Sheikh so-and-so said it was making sure your source of income was halal. Which is right?” His teacher answered, “My son I told you what the first step was, but my brother spoke of the prerequisite to the first step. No repentance is possible if one’s money is not halal.”

The Arrogance of feeling incensed…How difficulties expose the diseases of the heart

Umrah’s Life Lessons #5: The Arrogance of feeling incensed…How difficulties expose the diseases of the heart So everyday I get a little wiser in the dua I make all along the walk to the Haram. I prayed for a space that no one would crowd in on me in, and my spot seemed invisible to those late-comers looking for half a space. The next day I prayed that I would have space and be early enough to be allowed inside, and we prayed in a lovely, albeit hot, place on the second floor (that was the day the young girl from Aleppo accused me of wearing makeup). Tonight I pray for space large enough for the two of us, inside the Haram, peaceful and air-conditioned (ok, so I forgot to say facing the Kaba!). My wish seems almost impossible as we are turned away from door-for-women to door-for-women. Finally we are directed to a mixed entrance and ushered down an escalator. We are going down to the basement. I have a mild case of claustrophobia, but I try not to remember that we are underground. We look around: there isn’t a place for a slip of a child to stand. I turn to the guard, “Please,” I say, “we were directed to come down here and there is no room. Could you possibly find us a place somewhere?” “Follow me,” he says and off he goes. We walk through wide corridors full of men praying, we walk through enormous halls filled with men praying. We walk for maybe twenty minutes going deeper and deeper inside, I get nervous the prayer is going to start and here I am lost in a sea of men. Finally behind the brass book shelves at the far end of a hall is a closed-in area for women. I believe we are now under the Marwa. I thread my way past the first three or four lines of women and then stop. There is nowhere to spread a tissue much less a prayer carpet. The women look me squarely in the face, protective of their spaces. Go to the back, go to the back they motion in a dismissive manner. I almost start to until I realize they just want me out of their way – they haven’t even looked behind them. The few places I find that could fit us, I am waved away. One woman holds up two fingers, for people that are coming, one holds up three. A woman shakes her head and mimes wudu’, she is holding the place for someone making wudu. I send Fatimah three times to comb the lines all the way to the wall at the end and back, with no luck. Two boys push past me to stand with their mother; they are perhaps seven and nine. I begrudge them the place they take from us, but say nothing. More and more women arrive, as I stand clutching my carpet. They ask the guard to push back the bookcase to give us more room, and he objects. I have been standing for close to forty five minutes now and my throat chokes on tears of disappointment, estrangement, and defeat. It will be time to pray soon and I cannot face that long walk through the men’s section again. I feel like a total outcast.

On Three of the Components of Happiness…and making anyplace ‘home’

Umrah’s Life Lessons #4: On Three of the Components of Happiness…and making anyplace ‘home’ The day we performed Umrah was a long day. It started in Medina, walking, walking, walking to visit the Prophet, peace and blessing be upon him, walking back to the hotel elated, packing and taking the trip to Abyar Ali to do Ihram for our Umrah; then the long trip to Mecca. In Mecca too, another two hours of driving during and after Maghrib to reach our hotel, on account of getting lost and traffic, and then the walk to the Haram. By the time we had finished seven times of tawaf and seven times of sa’ee, we were exhausted. The walk back to the hotel must have been the hardest thing I had to do on the whole trip. My feet felt like two stumps of throbbing agony engulfing me in excruciating pain, what with the fact we had not eaten yet and I probably had low blood sugar, it was understandable that visions of foot amputations danced in my head. So was it any wonder that my face did not show any happiness on the long walk back? But that was commented on, too.

The Deprived Citizens of the Land of ‘Good-Enough’

Umrah’s Life Lessons #3: The Deprived Citizens of the Land of ‘Good-Enough’ Did I mention that it was a twenty to thirty minute brisk walk to the outer premises of the Haram from our hotel? Any other month, a car would have taken us along the freeway practically to the door of the Haram. Now all traffic was blocked from the surrounding streets and we had to walk the most direct street down to the Mosque. First we went under several freeways, then there was a souk reminiscent of Middle Eastern souks only it wasn’t covered, this continued to include a few empty lots full of rubble, a small mosque and a few hotels. Then another street merged into this one, turning the two into a wide street with fancy tower hotels and food shops on either side. Halfway down that street was the ‘tent’. Wide swaths of semi sheer cloth were draped from one side of the street to the next creating a delicately shaded area. Now it was a mere ten minutes to the outer vicinity of the Haram. We took this path back and forth at least twice a day.

On Dirty Clothes and the Volume of Sin

Umrah’s Life Lessons #2: On Dirty Clothes and the Volume of Sin No one packs a suitcase like my daughter Ruqaiyah. Ever since she was a child she’s had a knack for folding that renders the item of clothing, towel or sheet to its original store-bought pristine shape. On our previous Umrah she went with us, and when we saw her neat little sandwich-bag packages, each holding a complete set of underwear (undershirt, underpants and long pants), we all wanted her to pack our bags for us. This trip, my husband took a small bag, Fatimah and I shared a medium-sized bag, and we each had a carry-on as well. Inside, thanks to Ruqaiyah, our bags were fit for display!

The Chained Chair…The Blessing of Having a Guide

I would like to share a series of reflections that were written last year after I went on Umrah with my husband and ten year old daughter. Our accommodations were at a good distance from the Haram, we had no one with us to help and the crowds were greater than ever before, a grand seven million! I am not saying I wouldn’t do it again in an eye blink, I am not saying we did not benefit and enjoy our stay. Just that things were more difficult than I expected, and that each situation was laden with myriad pointers. Lesson One: The Chained Chair…..The Blessing of Having a Guide Our last day in Mecca was physically grueling. We were up almost all night, then fajr jama’a, then over an hour’s search for an empty space to pray Eid, then another two hours to get to the Kaba and tawaf of farewell, and then the long walk back to the hotel. After some quick last minute packing, the two hour trip to Jedda is something I am looking forward to. I can’t wait to get into a cool spacious GMC car to catch up on some sleep.

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