Allah is such that He and His angels send blessings to you, so that He brings you out from all sorts of darkness into Light; and He is Very Merciful to the believers. Their greeting, on the Day when they will meet Him, will be ‘Salaam’. [Qur'an 33:44-45]
Categories: x::Posts with pictures::x
Tagged: Islam, Nikon D40, photos, Qur'an
“And the pains of childbirth drove her to the trunk of a palm tree; she cried (in her anguish) “Ah! Would that I had died before this! Would that I been a thing forgotten and out of sight.” But (a voice) cried to her from beneath the (palm-tree): Grieve not! for thy Lord hath provided a rivulet beneath thee; and shake towards thyself the trunk of the palm-tree: it will let fall fresh ripe dates upon thee. So eat and drink and cool (thine) eye.” (Qur’an 19:23-26, on Maryam, known to non-Muslims as Mary)
It is that time of the year again when the date palm becomes laden with clusters of dates. The date palms are said to produce up to 200 dates in one cluster and are one of the sweetest and most prized fruits in the Islamic world.
Palm dates are believed to have originated around the Persian Gulf, and have been cultivated since ancient times from Mesopotamia to prehistoric Egypt, possibly as early as 4000 B.C.
Date palms also served as a means for preserving passages of the Quran. During the life of Prophet Muhammed (PBUH), the Quran was recorded by some scribes on leafstalks of date palms.
The potentialities of a commercial date production industry in U.A.E. were realized many years ago.
The annual date production in U.A.E. has jumped from less than 8,000 metric tones (MT) in 1971 to more than 240,000 MT in 1995, an increase of about 30 fold.
The date fruit import had consequently dropped from 100,000 MT (1989) to 12,000 MT (1994).
The export of dates had also jumped from zero (0) in 1971 to above 50,000 MT in 1998 with a value of US$ 15 million.
The U.A.E. date harvested area has increased from less than 60 hectares (ha) in 1971 to 31,005 ha in 1996. This increase in area is about 48 times and allowed the country to be internationally classified as the Seventh major producing country with six percent of the world date production.
(source)
“Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky.” - Rabindranath Tagore
“Every cloud engenders not a storm” - William Shakespeare
“There are no rules of architecture for a castle in the clouds.” - G. K. Chesterton
"Have you not seen how God makes the clouds move gently, then joins them together, then makes them into a stack, and then you see the rain come out of it..." Quran 24:43
Looking out from the aircraft window, I watched the clouds for the longest time until I felt as if I was floating on them. There’s this feeling I can’t quite put into words. I suppose it’s a combination of feeling the greatness of our Creator and realizing how insignificant I am.
Categories: x::Posts with pictures::x
Tagged: photos, Qur'an, thoughts
“The first House (of worship) appointed for men was that at Bakka: Full of blessing and of guidance for all kinds of beings. In it are clear signs: the station of Ibrahim. Anyone who enters it shall be granted safe passage. The people owe it to God that they shall observe Hajj to this shrine, when they can afford it. As for those who disbelieve, God does not need anyone.” [al Qur’an 3: 96-97]
3:30 am. I entered Masjid al Haram for the first time, from Bab al Fath. I consciously took the first step in with my right foot, while reciting the du’a. I didn’t want to look up and see the Ka’aba from the distance, but few steps later I couldn’t resist the urge as I heard Masood say SubhanAllah, and I looked up.
There it stood – right in the middle of Masjid al Haram, at the center of the Earth, and in front of me – the Ka’aba. I took a deep breath and felt the calmness and serenity seep into the very recesses of my soul. My heart started to beat faster, and for a few seconds, I momentarily forgot all those around me, even myself. I am in Allah’s house!
This is where I had been facing all my life while to offer prayers.
Tears veiled my view of the Ka’aba, as I followed Masood and walked closer towards it. “Is this for real?” I asked myself. “Has Allah really deemed me worthy to be standing here in His house?” I felt so small. There is a distinct green light opposite to the Black Stone, where the tawaaf is to be started. We stood at the opposide side, so we walked all the way towards it. Masood bared his right shoulder, held my hand and we started our tawaaf, with our left shoulders towards the Ka’aba and walking anti-clockwise.
There wasn’t much crowd. This meant that we were very close to Hajar al Aswad or the Black Stone and had touched the Station of Ibraheem. This also meant we weren’t pushed around and were able to concentrate on the tawaaf itself. The weather was very pleasant and the coolness of the marble floor made it even better. On the first round, I sought forgiveness for all the sins I had committed. On the second round, I prayed for my family, including those who have already left this dunya. On the third round, I prayed for all my friends and the people I know. On the fourth round, I prayed for the Muslim ummah. On the fifth and sixth rounds, I recited all the surahs and dhik’r I knew by heart. On the last round, I prayed for myself.
After completing the tawaaf, we walked towards the Zam Zam taps and drank the cool water. Then we offered 2 raka’at nafl. By the time we finished the prayer, the adhaan for Fajr echoed throughout the masjid. We found our way and walked towards Safa. We had enough time to rent a wheelchair for Mom, her feet swollen and aching. We didn’t know that there were free wheelchairs available and moreover, we didn’t know that passport is required to borrow one. Since we didn’t bring our passports, we had to pay for the wheelchair.
Faj’r prayer was one of the best prayers I had ever had the opportunity to pray. It was my first Fardh prayer in Masjid al Haram, and though I don’t recall who lead the prayers, I was deeply moved by the verses he recited. The Imam took his time, reading out each verse with immense clarity. I wanted him to go on and on. I didn’t want this prayer to end. There I was, offering my salah with thousands of others, with the Ka’aba right in front of me!
It got crowded just after Fajr prayers.
Immediately after the prayer, we proceeded towards Safa to start Sa’ee. We had to walk from Safa towards Marwa and vice versa, completing seven laps. I found this even tougher than the tawaaf. But I shrugged off that thought, feeling all guilty, when I tried to visualize Haajar and her little baby, the prophet Ismael, alaihis salaam, in this same place thousands of years ago. I was with my family, she had been alone with her infant. I was walking on a smooth marble floor, she walked on the rocky ground of the desert hills. I have been provided with an air-conditioned environment, she had to endure the hostile weather of Makkah. I was able to stop twice and drink Zam Zam conveniently from the coolers, she must’ve been dizzy with thirst, her parched lips praying for Allah to help her and her infant survive. How ungrateful I am. How ungrateful have I always been.
Allah loved this act of hers so much that He ordained it compulsory among all the Muslims performing Umrah and Haj.
‘Behold! Safa and Marwa are among the Symbols of Allah.” Al Qur’an 2:158
Ending up in Marwa, us ladies proceeded to the hotel where we cut about an inch from our hair, while the men went to the barber’s. We had now completed our Umrah and prayed that Allah accept our deeds and forgive our sins.
Paid lockers outside the masjid - though I didn't see anyone use them.
Masjid al Haram is the only mosque in the world, in my opinion, where men and women mingle all the time, hence the need for women to be with their mahram. There is no separate women’s section within the mosque – only bookshelves, about 4 feet high, serve as boundaries. So Masood was always close by, even during prayers.
Tips:
“A person who recites the Qur’an and reads it fluently will be in the company of obedient and noble angels, and a person who reads the Qur’an haltingly and with difficulty will have double recompense.” Bukhari:4937
“If the person who passes in front of another person in Salah knew the magnitude of his sin, he would prefer to wait for 40 (days, months or years) rather than to pass in front of him. Abu An Nadr said, ‘I donot remember exactly whether he said 40 days, months or years’.” Bukhari:510
Our last prayer at the Masjid al Haram was that of Fajr, where we remain seated until 10 am reciting the Qur’an. We somehow ended up on the second floor with a very good view of the Ka’aba. Those few hours were the most peaceful and calm time of my time. I didn’t want to leave this place nor wanted this time to pass.
We then went downstairs to make our farewell tawaaf. Ihram isn’t necessary for this, nor is the need to recite the niyah out loud. There is no need to do raml, or brisk walking. During the last tawaaf around the Ka’aba, I started crying. “Please don’t send me back out there!” I pleaded to Allah silently. I felt so shielded, so protected within the walls of His house that the thought of leaving this place frightened me. It felt like there are a million vultures outside, waiting to tear me into a million pieces. But most importantly, I feared losing this feeling of extreme closeness to Him and of getting lost in the world outside.
But life is a test, I tried to explain to myself. And Him sending me back out there is a test.
Reluctantly, with tears in my eyes and a very heavy heart, I walked out of Allah’s House. “Please invite us again soon,” I prayed sincerely, “And please keep this memory of love and fear of You fresh in our hearts always.”
Categories: Makkah
Tagged: Islam, Me, Muslim, people, personal, photos, Places, Qur'an, thoughts, travel, Umrah
The people of Makkah were asleep when our bus entered its borders. I checked the time: 1 am. I thought, still drowsy from sleep, of having read a sign that said non-Muslims are forbidden to enter from this point onwards. I must have dozed off for a couple of hours in the bus, and when I looked out of the window, I saw mountains – right next to me! I once read that Makkah city is built in a narrow valley, surrounded by mountains, and is 910 feet above sea level. So they carved the mountains and built this highway, which by this time has considerably narrowed down in size and has bright street lights. I tried to imagine how this must have all been during the Prophet’s, sallalahu alayhi wassalam, time. How difficult and life threatening it must have been for him and his companions to cross the hostile desert weather and rough mountains, and make it to Madinah.
Thirty minutes later, after driving up and down the road (we so got used to the leveled roads here in the U.A.E., so I was actually enjoying this ride), I can finally see the minarets! By then, everyone in the bus had awaken. We had stopped reciting the talbiyah and I thought, “Oh Allah, please grant me the opportunity to recite these words again soon.”
My first glimpse of the Masjid al Haram was from inside the bus, across the street. It seemed like a dream and I rubbed my eyes, “It is the Grand Mosque! We’re finally here!” The masjid glowed in the dark, sparkling in all its grandeur. The bus continued past the masjid, on the two-way street and made a U-turn. The street is lined with hotels, restaurants and shops. The place was abuzz like it’s 2 pm and not 2 am!
SAPTCO bus terminal is right in front of the masjid. We got off and gathered at the steps of the masjid with our luggage. Masood left to search for the hotel. Mom sat on her folding chair, while Mushtaq and I waited for Masood’s return. He had called up the hotel while we were in Madinah and informed them of our arrival. The payment has already been made in Dubai.
I looked up at Masjid al Haram in awe. Its white marble walls stood out against the black sky, its minarets kissing the stars. There wasn’t much crowd either; I had imagined the place to be packed. I looked around. Men walked pass in their white Ihraam clothes, some exposing their right shoulders. Hadn’t they read that the right shoulder is to be exposed only during tawaaf? There was constant movement of people in and out of the masjid, mostly in groups.
A lot of women, in niqaab, sold scarves, slippers, and prayer rugs along the footpath in front of the masjid. Their children running around in the massive courtyard of the masjid. It was disappointing to see the garbage and plastic bags lying around the area. I thought of Madinah at that moment, of how clean it has been maintained anytime of the day or night.
I checked my watch: 2:30 am. “Where is Masood? He should’ve been back by now,” I thought aloud. Mom told me to call him, but when I dialed his Etisalat number, a woman’s voice answered instead, very obvious that I had awaken her from her deep sleep. I apologized, disconnected the call and sent a text message asking Masood to call me. Fifteen minutes later and still no response.
3 am. We all started to worry. I felt people were already looking at us. We had planned to start the tawaaf at 3 am, yet here we stood, in front of the masjid with our luggage. Ten minutes later, Masood came running towards us and suitcases in hand, we strode towards the taxi behind him. We drove past the masjid, through a tunnel, arrived behind the masjid, then took a left turn. A couple of minutes later, we were standing in front of a hotel - the hotel that we didn’t book.
What happened was that when Masood arrived at the hotel – the one we had booked and paid for in Dubai – he was told up front that our rooms have given to someone else. This was after he was asked to wait in the lobby for 30 minutes! Trying his best to control his temper, Masood tried to show the receipt and explained that his mother and wife are out there with the luggage and that we had intended to perform the tawaaf in 30 minutes. The guy at the reception calmly told him not to worry. He made a phone call, ordered another employee to hail a cab and asked Masood to follow that guy. “I’ve arranged for rooms in another hotel for you,” he said, “and it’s walking distance from Haram.”
What he didn’t mention was that on the way back from the haram, we would have to climb a hill to get to the road that leads to our hotel. We ended up taking a cab on our way to and from the masjid each time. I don’t have anything good to say about our rooms. Mom’s cough got worse.
Construction work right in front of Masjid al Haram
Men in Makkah, the ones we have had the pleasure to interact with at least, had short temper. The locals drive private taxis, charging us SR10-15 for a 2 minute ride. One of them took off while Mom was still getting in the car, resulting in muscle pain in her left arm and shoulder. Another one picked us up from the main entrance of haram, drove all the way around and stopped at the back entrance of the masjid. “Dar al salaam,” Masood told him again. “Bab al Salaam,” the driver gestured towards the back entrance of the masjid. “No, not Bab al Salaam. Dar al Salaam,” said Masood. Both men communicated in sign language with lots of Dar al salaams and Bab al salaams in between, until the driver finally announced that he didn’t know where dar al salaam was. Masood explained the way.
A five-star hotel and shopping center right across Masjid al Haram
Shops and food court
A hotel facing Masjid al Haram
Hotels everywhere!
Given the limited time that we had in Makkah and Mom’s poor health, we had decided to postpone seeing other places in the city and focused on spending most of our time in Haram.
Categories: Makkah
Tagged: Islam, Me, Muslim, people, personal, photos, Places, Qur'an, thoughts, travel, Umrah
RSS - Posts