29th December, 2005
The Re-birth – Part IV
“و أذن في الناس بالحج يأتوك رجالا…”
3arafa:
I have never in my life felt as safe as I did as when I was at 3arafa. There are no words that I can put together that would truly be reflective of my feelings then. 3arafa, the day you feel all your sins are washed off; you are reborn.You literally feel the presence of Angels around you. No one will be able to truly appreciate what I mean other than those who have actually been there. Had I not already put on the 7ejab prior to leaving home, there was no way I was going to walk out of 3arafa not met7ajba.
“God is so merciful that He is willing to forgive me for ALL my sins, and I can’t put a piece of cloth on my head? I can’t cover my hair? 3aib 3lay ibsara7a.”
There will never be another wagfa ib 3arafa again where I will not recall all the feelings of that day and lower my head thanking Allah for His Greatness.
“اللهم اعوذ بك من الفقر و من شتات الامر و من شر ما يحدث بالليل و النهار أمسي ظلمي مستجيرا بعفوك و أمسي خوفي مستجيرا بأمانك ..”
Mozdalefa:
This is where a huge dose of reality was handed to me. Looking around, you see many different people from all parts of the world and all parts of life. You see poverty in its rawest form, yet poverty moved by faith! Simply unreal.
This is where I felt how weak I was as a mortal. This is where it became clear that at the end, it doesn’t matter what educational degree I hold, what job title I carry, how much money I make.. it doesn’t matter what country I was born in and if I can speak languages or not. What matters is how my actions will have earned me a place in Heaven or not. Looking around, I realize those who have lived much more humble lives were on the same level as me standing there, possibly even higher when it came to what really matters!
Road to Mina:
Heading to Mina, anything that can go wrong went wrong. Our bus got lost in the midst of the human oceans of people walking around. It was barely moving as a result and what should’ve taken us 1 hour, at most, took us 9 hours! During that ride some people started to whine and complain that we were late, that we were on the bus too long, etc.
Somehow, I felt completely calm and serene. My mother looked at me and asked if I was ok. I replied, “Never been better. We’re going to narjim el shay6an. He’s trying to mess things up for us. La etkhaloneh yaghlebkom. Don’t sit here and whine. Read Quran, read du3a2, do anything constructive. Complaining will just give el shay6an what he wants.”
So we, as a group, started reading Du3a2 and the more we read, the faster the bus was able to move. The minute we all said out loud “Allahuma Salleee wa Sallim 3ala Mohammed, wa 2al Mohammed”, the bus moved and kept on moving. Sub7anak ya Rab!
Ramee El-Jamarat:
So many people gathered around, throwing pebbles (rajm el shay6an.) We decided to split up. Three of my aunts and I decided to battle this together. We held on to each other like a train. I lead the pack and walked into the crowd. Again, sub7an Allah, somehow the path opens up and we find ourselves against the railing, right in front of the wall. I grabbed my seven pebbles. As I looked up and aimed to throw, I saw many other pebbles flying in the same direction.
Somehow, as the pebble leaves your hand, your eyes follow it and you know EXACTLY which one your’s is and you see where it hits. You know right there and then whether you’ve hit it right or not. As each pebble leaves your hand you get more and more upset with el shay6an and you throw the next one even harder. You realize all those times el shay6an managed to convince you to sleep a little longer till salat el fajr passed you. You remember all those times el shay6an waswas lek and you realize how silly it was to not see it and stop el shay6an from having an effect on you!
Final 6awaf:
Right before we began our final 6awaf, it started to drizzle lightly. Smiling, we all looked up to the sky. El mo6ar khair, abwab el sama maftoo7ah! Then, it poured down!! Rain completely washed us. But that didn’t bother us, on the contrary, we were smiling like we’d never smiled before! Does this mean that Allah teqabal minna and is washing our sins?
Although we were worn out by all the events over the past few days, the harder it rained the more energy we had. We finished el 6awaf with greater ease than our first 6awaf when we arrived. Then, it happened. During our 7th and final sho6 around el Ka3ba, the rain stopped. I looked up and there it was. The most beautiful, huge, colorful rainbow right above el Ka3ba and the sky was orange.
Aneh 7ajjiya. How great it feels to actually BE one. It’s not just a word people use anymore. It’s a title I have earned proudly.
“لا اله الا أنت سبحانك اني كنت من الظالمين”
Posted at 11:59 pm | Comments (6)
24th December, 2005
Gather Ye Rosebuds…
she’s gone. he wished that he could take it back. he wasn’t sure why, but sometimes words came out of his mouth which sounded perfect at the time, but later on he realized that they were poisonous darts flying out, not words.he cared for her deeply. he knew she was a good person. he knew that she wasn’t like other girls. with her, there was no drama. she respected him as an individual, accepted their differences, and didn’t seem to make the demands most girls these days make.
he tried to keep himself busy to stop his thoughts, but it didn’t work. there she was again. when he’s awake, he sees her in front of him, remembers her voice, her smile. when he tries to escape and sleep, she’s there in is dreams. this is getting annoying. he’s not the romantic type, he doesn’t believe in any of this.
she was always there. whenever he wanted to share parts of his day, his frustrations, his dreams, his thoughts; she was always there to listen and try to comfort him. looking back now, he realized that there were many times when she’d come to him for solace and all he did was add to her pain. why? what made him do that? was he subconsciously trying to push her away? has he gotten so used to being alone that her taking over a part of his life was a threat he wasn’t willing to succumb to? or was he so afraid of loss that he refused to commit?
doesn’t matter now. she’s gone. it’s over. he had his chance. he blew it. “khalha etwalee, wana shako? alf bent bil 3alam.”
his mind drifted again.. “bs mako methelha.”
he picks up the phone. stares at it. it’s too late. she’s gone. he puts the phone back down and walks away.
not knowing what she meant to him, she died last week.
Posted at 10:04 pm | Comments (19)
24th December, 2005
Compromise
Mother Courage, a few weeks ago, wrote about Compromise, which is something I’ve been meaning to write about for a long time, but never got around to it. While each person will naturally relate this to whatever experiences they’ve gone through or are currently experiencing, please note that I’m talking about relationships in general and not just the ‘male/female’ relationship.
Once people surpass the ‘getting to know you’ stage, they move on to categorizing. You have those who fall under ‘family’, ‘close friends – almost family’, ‘semi-friends’, ‘acquaintances’, ‘never want to see/talk to them’, etc. With some people, it’s easy to fit them into the appropriate slot. Others, though, it seems very difficult; they teeter-totter on the borderline and you never know when to make a final decision or where to place them.
There are people who enter our lives, people whose thought process we find admirable, whom we feel that we connect with, whose company we enjoy. Yet, as we get to know them better, as the novelty starts to subside, and we see more and more of the ‘full picture’ of that person’s personality, we find ourselves struggling. “Does this person add value to my life, or suck the energy out?”
It’s not easy to find people you connect or relate to. So, once you do, you hesitate to walk away. Human nature reminds us of the good times and we somehow sweep the bad under the rug and convince ourselves that there’s more ‘good’ than ‘bad’. Yet at the same time, with age and experience, tolerance levels get reduced greatly and priorities start shifting.
When do you stop compromising? When do you decide that enough is enough? There is no perfect person, so when do you decide whether their imperfection is something you can tolerate or not? Life has no guarantees. Life has no black or white answers. Life is too short to be wasted on the wrong people.
The dictionary says that compromise is: “a settlement of differences in which each side makes concessions.” The operative word here is ‘EACH’. I don’t think making the decision is the difficult part. If we dig deep down inside, we know whether the person in front of us is someone who is a good addition to our life or not. However, for some reason, once we make what we think is a ‘solid’ connection, it’s tough to break it off. We keep making up excuses and giving second, third, and twenty seventh chances; never quite realizing that if it was truly solid, no chances would be needed (at least not that many)!
When someone comes to us for advice, it’s so easy for us to give it; just like it’ll be easy for any of you to write a comment about this. But when it comes to your own life and the friends who cross your path, is it easy for you? Is it easy to draw the line and walk away once someone crosses it? Knowing the withdrawal symptoms you will face, how do you surpass that and move on? Just how much of yourself do you give up when you compromise?
Posted at 12:07 am | Comments (7)
22nd December, 2005
Where there’s a will, there’s a way..
So I’ve finally been tagged.. and of all things to be tagged on, my ROOM!!!!! 
Well Doc, I’m not one to back down now.. you said room, you showed us one side of your room, now I get to pick my side to show:
I have officially fulfilled the tag! 
Posted at 11:53 pm | Comments (6)
19th December, 2005
The Pilgrimage - Part III
El-6awaf:
We started our 6awaf around el Ka3ba and it was not an easy task. Thousands of people all in one small location, all trying to perform the same duties. Somehow, sub7an Allah, we managed to find a slot and squeezed into the 6awaf ring. Once we reached the line where the 7ajjar aswad begins, we started our seven ashwa6:
« اللهم امانتي اديتها ، وميثاقي تعاهدته ، لتشهد لي بالموافاة ، اللهم تصديقا بكتابك ، وعلى سنة نبيك ،صلواتك عليه و اله اشهد ان لا إله إلا الله وحده لا شريك له ، وان محمدا عبده ورسوله.. »
At first, it was tough to see where the black line by el7ajar elaswad starts. If you look down, you risk tripping, falling down and getting trampled on. Then we discovered that there’s a green light on top. If you just keep your eye on it, then you know where to begin each sho6.
We struggled to maintain our formation; people pushing from each direction. It was a raging sea of people. It wasn’t easy to keep your feet grounded as you felt a tide come in and lift you literally off your feet; you felt yourself somehow being pulled away from your group. The harder the forces against you, the harder you concentrated on keeping pace and keeping your ground. At first, I lost sight of what I was doing; I was too busy trying to not fall down. Fear took over for a few minutes, but then I remembered what I was there for. I’m in bait Allah; He’s protecting me and watching over me. What more could I ask for? What is there to fear? Nothing!
I lifted my head up high, held on strong, and raised my left arm forward to protect the women in our group from getting pulled away:
الشوط الأول: “اللهم اني اسألك باسمك الذي يمشي به على ظلل الماء كما يمشي به على جدد الأرض…”
الشوط الثاني: “اللهم اني اليك فقير و اني خائف مستجير..”
الشوط الثالث: “اللهم ادخلني الجنة و اجرني من النار برحمتك..”
الشوط الرابع: “يا الله يا ولي العافية و خالق العافية…”
الشوط الخامس: “الحمدلله الذي شرفك و عظمك..”
الشوط السادس: “اللهم البيت بيتك و العبد عبدك و هذا مقام العائذ بك من النار…”
الشوط السابع: “اللهم إن عندي أفواجا من ذنوب…”
I have no idea how, but the seven ashwa6 were done before we knew it. I have no idea how we managed to stay solid in our 6awaf and finish so quickly. We walked sideways and got out and dropped to pray rak3atay el 6awaf:
“اصلي ركعتي الطواف لعمرة التمتع لحج التمتع حج الإسلام لوجوبه قربة إلى الله تعالى”
The minute my forehead touched the cold ground, I didn’t want to raise my head. I was too ashamed, too embarrassed, too weak. Here I have over the past x number of years of my life taken so many things for granted, and now here I drop my head to Rab el 3almeen asking him to forgive everything. How can I dare lift my head? How can I dare even beg for forgiveness when I don’t even feel that I’m worthy of it? I felt all the burdens of my sins weigh heavily on my shoulders, forcing my head to remain down, while my tears dropped in repentance.
After I got done with the prayer, I went and drank from Zamzam water. As silly as this may sound, you feel the cold water going through your body as if it too wants to help in your cleansing.
El-Sa3ee:
The Sa3ee between Al-Safa wil Marwa was another task within itself. Don’t look around you, focus straight ahead, read the ad3eya, and walk the seven ashwa6. When you get to the area between the two green lights and men start to jog, at first this catches your attention and you wonder what it going on. Then you remember that this is where Hajjar ran when she was looking for water for her son.
Then it all hits you. Mentally, you remove the nice building structure, you remove the fans and the lighting, you remove every man made form of convenience and you try to think back of how 7ajj/6awaf was back then. Your mind takes you back to Hajjar and her struggle when her infant son was screaming for water. When, helpless, she ran between the Safa and Marwa looking for any sign of water, any sign of help. That is, until God’s mercy let the waters of Zamzam flow from right beneath her son Ismael’s feet.
Remembering her, her braveness and faith, and how she told her husband, Sayedna Ebrahim as he walked away from her and their son:
“آلله أمرك بهذا؟ قال: نعم. قالت: إذا لا يضيعنا”
Who am I compared to her? No one. What have I done compared to her? Nothing. What is my faith measured against her? Non-existent!! Everything about this place screams of God’s greatness and the miracles he has bestowed upon us; it screams of the greatness of the Prophets and el-mo2mneen; it’s a reminder for all of us that we are mere molecules of dust when our faith is measured against their’s.
That is the real lesson. Who cares about all the other things we complain about during our daily life? Who cares that my dad yelled at me, that my sister annoyed me, or that my friend didn’t return my call? Who cares that my boss doesn’t give me full credit, that my coworker doesn’t carry his/her weight? When it all comes down to it, none of that matters. We’re living a daily test from God. Are we prepared to see the results?
to be continued…
Posted at 8:24 pm | Comments (5)