Day 17 – Cheapskate

I’m Desi, it’s hard not to be cheap. Help me yall.”

11/7/11Hajj, Day 4

I woke up this morning and just wanted to stay asleep. It was so loud though, the camp just stays obnoxiously loud at night, with everyone around constantly talking all the time. I just wanted to stay in my dream world, even that was a relief. A mental escape from the realities we face.

My current test is a recurring one. My thobe is almost in shreds practically. I bought some super cheap ones – 10 riyals ($3) each – and just got 4 of them. Every single one has ripped and gotten torn up. The one I’m wearing now is the worst, and I’ve barely even worn it. It’s also the only thing I brought along to Mina to wear. I didn’t realize we would be here so long after being out of our ihrams. There’s two huge slits on both thighs, where the pockets are, and the left side is torn open from the knee down.

The lesson: quality over quantity. This is what I get for my habit of spending money on cheap stuff. An investment into some more decent quality clothing would’ve been worth the extra cost. Now, I have to go out and try to buy something in the street in the camp to get by for the next 2 days. There’s no way I’m just wearing this tattered thobe.

I’ll try…I’m Desi, it’s hard not to be cheap. Help me yall. In the meantime, gotta figure out how to get around without being a harami and showing off my ‘aura.

——————–

Today was real. So intense, subhanAllah. The condition of this journal is proof. I had a feeling I’d get tested with the journal, it was just a matter of time, Alhamdulillah.

Soaked Pages

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Day 16 – Path to Purity

“Maybe when we remove the dirty ihram, Allah removes with it the impurities in our hearts.”

11/6/11Hajj, Day 3

While we were coming back, I felt like we were on the path back to purity. I got my head shaved on the walk back, I went to a legit barber, who used a fresh new blade and just shaved my hair straight off. Didn’t trim it first or anything, worked out perfectly. It feels so incredibly refreshing, Alhamdulillah. I look so boss with a bald head and the beard :P. I might rock this look more, who knows.

—————

Finally showered, changed, prayed, ate a little. I can rest now, iA.

Coming back, I saw some men in ihram that had been to the slaughterhouse apparently. Their clothing was covered in blood splatter. The bottom of their ihrams were totally soaked red with blood. It was such a violent image, I actually cringed at the sight – white sheets, soiled with dark, dried blood. Then, I realized, if we follow the rituals as they’re prescribed, there’s no way the ihram would stay clean. You stand in the sun all day in Arafah, so you sweat, and it bakes into your clothing. You spend the night in Muzdalifah, out in the open, on the sand – so you’re exposed to dirt and dust all over. You walk more the next day and travel to the Jamarat and throw stones that you pick up along the way. Then, you go to the slaughterhouse and sacrifice animals and get their blood all over you. It’s actually not required for people to go slaughter their own animals now, you can have it arranged to be done on your behalf and you get a phone call when it’s complete, but traditionally, people would do it on their own.

Then, you cut your hair or shave your head, so you get hair all over your ihram. By the time you’re done, you’re bound to be filthy and disgusting. Thankfully, you’re supposed to take a shower and change, what a relief that brings. Maybe that’s part of the metaphor? You obey His demands for this pilgrimage, bear the toil on your body and clothing, and ultimately shed it all as a renewal and ‘rebirth’. Maybe when we remove the dirty ihram, Allah removes with it the impurities in our hearts. Maybe when we shower and cleanse our exterior, Allah polishes our hearts and purifies our interior. I wanted to be in such a state when I return to Mecca to make tawaf. I preferred to be in a pure state when visiting The Sacred House, ready to receive from the Lord of All, directly to the heart. That is the bounty I desire, and it is a state better befitting His Majesty. I do not regret today’s hardships. Ya Rabb, You alone are sufficient for me.

One of my dad’s friends, Tahir, has been puttin out some truly thoughtful insights this entire time. While I’m in the corner writing, they’re on the other side of the tent, in the midst of this deep conversation about raising kids as good Muslims and decent human beings in America. Seems to be a recurring concern/issue for the uncles in our group.

It started when my dad was complaining about how whack Saudi is compared to America, exclaiming, “America is the greatest country in the world!” He sincerely meant it. I agree with him. There’s just nothing that compares to the infrastructure, cleanliness and overall order in society. We honestly take for granted how civilized our environment is. In other parts of the world, even basic rules don’t apply. Traffic patterns, litter, pollution, personal space/boundaries, civility – it’s like nothing is as it’s “supposed” to be. Basic example, NO one stands in line. Ever. If you wait in line, you’re telling everyone around you that you do not want whatever the hell you’re standing in line for, and they can jump in front of you and shove you out of the way. That must be what it means, because that’s exactly what happens when I try waiting in line. I ain’t no fool though, I learned lines are for suckers. Even at restaurants! You order food, you have a number, you’re not going to be served until it’s your turn. Doesn’t matter, push, shove, fight to the counter, every time the attendant turns towards you, throw your receipt up into his face. That’s the only way you get what you want, it’s ridiculous. Adapt or starve.

They started talking about raising kids. I guess that’s one area in which they find America to be a problematic environment. Tahir said, parents, especially Desi’s, keep their eyes closed to their kids’ lives. He said, “Good parenting isn’t just making sure your kids pray when they’re at home, but raising them so when they’re out all day, they do what’s right.” I think he hit it right on the head. Too many Desi parents try to force religiosity on their kids, and not actual morality. Many times, it seems they lack the morals themselves to even be able to impart them upon their offspring. He made a dope comment about how Allah didn’t send this many prophets for no reason. Heavy. We are indeed a rebellious creation, wanting to transgress for personal convenience and gain.

——————–

It’s funny, I’ve been encouraged by so many of my group members to publish a book of my journey. The old Iranian man I sat next to on the bus has been really supportive & sweet. I had a feeling that would happen when I was writing about him at the time. His name’s Zakaria. His cousin, Nabi, also in our group, is a really nice guy too mA. He wanted to take a picture with me yesterday, it was also the first time we spoke. I was like, um…ok. He said he had a brother-in-law that looked like me. Compliment for him, right? ;)

In general, my group has grown on me. Even some of the Desi uncles I was hating on are turning out to be real solid dudes mA. There’s Fiyyaz, who’s a G, from Hydro-bad, and his buddy Saleem, who’s also such a great man. Then, there’s the other Saleem, who’s been super considerate, taking care of me like family. He’s always asking if I need anything and offering to share in his meals whenever he sees me. Our group leader, though he’s good at getting things that he wants, usually serves himself, making him a d-bag. Sorry, not traveling with you again. The Somali crew are also good folk, great fun, but here for the right reasons. Alhamdulillah, they have a good time and manage to get focused when the time is right.

We got skipped when meals were being handed out at lunch and dinner. Either because everyone and their mom hates our trip leader, or cuz the workers keep asking for tips and we just dont care anymore. Seriously, do yall not get paid? Or you just hustlin right now cuz your in the American tents? Whatevs, I already ate – had my leftover Turkish joint. Time for bed, I’m beat…I don’t care if it’s only 8:30pm and it’s Eid [Eid Mubarak!].

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Day 16 – Seeing Clearly

“All you hear is trash being kicked and crushed as people move along in the streets.”

11/6/11 Hajj, Day 3

My feet are gone. I can’t find them. They’ve been replaced by swollen, blistered globs of flesh. Today’s been rough, and it’s only 4:30pm. This morning, we got back to our camp from Muzdalifah, took 2 breaths – shallow ones, not deep ones – then we went to the Jamarat to do our Rami’ (stoning). There were millions of people there, for sure, all in the same place, subhanAllah. It was a terribly long walk from our camp though, like 2 miles, it took about an hour to get there. Seeing the Jamarat was interesting. While you’re throwing stones, on some level, you feel like you’re actually attacking Shaitan, even though they’re just giant stone walls. Feels good.

One of Three Jamarat Walls

Afterwards, our group was like ok, let’s go to the Haram and do our tawaf! I was like, um…what, how about no. I was already tired and filthy, I definitely didn’t want to go to the Haram in this condition. Going to the Haram would’ve meant getting pushed, shoved, stepped on, coughed on, and worn down even more. Not to mention the extensive walking it would’ve taken to get there, to do the tawaf (circling the Ka’aba) and the sai’y (going between Safa & Marwa), and to make the way back to the camp. We easily wouldn’t be back to Mina until like 11pm, given everything goes smoothly, which of course it never does on Hajj.

Based on that, I was seriously resisting going with the group to the Haram at that time, but my parents insisted, just to get the rituals done and over with. In reality, you do have to perform tawaf and sai’y as part of your Hajj, but it can be done in any of the last 3 days of Hajj. We still had 2 whole days to make it happen, there really was no need to rush. I wanted to go back and clean up first, then go to the Haram maybe later today or tomorrow. I ended up getting caught up with the group and continued walking with them towards Mecca. Everyone was so tired, walking in the sun and the heat, wanting to rest so badly. Our group leader kept pushing on, out of his own hastiness, but no one wanted to say anything or protest and just kept slaving on. I got fed up and just sat down on the curb, like “Screw it, y’all keep walkin if you want, I’m resting.” Immediately, everyone around me also stopped, my parents too. People were hesitant to just rest, saying we should inform the rest of the group, which had walked so far ahead, that we were stopping. I was like whatever, go ahead, I’m not budging though. It didn’t take more than a few minutes for everyone to stop and rest too. We desperately needed it.

It was close to Dhuhr time, so after a few minutes of rest, we walked towards an adjacent neighborhood to pray and get some food. We found a pretty awesome Turkish spot just up the street and prayed Dhuhr afterwards at the masjid across from  it. I swear that place stressed me out. There were so many people packed together, in some ways it was worse than the Haram, and it was just some random street mosque. The bathrooms were just gross and muddy – puddles and thrown ihrams all over. People would literally just discard their sheets anywhere and everywhere, after being able to change out of them, even just dropping them into the water drains in the public wudhu areas. I had to navigate a massive crowd the entire time, just to make wudhu, walk to the musallah and pray. I honestly haven’t had that much difficulty doing those simple things at any other place here thus far.

When we got out, everyone started looking for a bus to Mecca. I was like “Nah, I really don’t wanna go.” My parents freakedd out, especially my dad, who was getting upset and paranoid that I’d get lost. I tried reassuring him I would be alright and that they should still go if they wanted to finish their tawaf today. Deep inside my core, I earnestly felt that the last thing I wanted to do at the time was to travel to the Haram. I decided I was going to head back to Mina and split off from my parents and the rest of my group. I was that adamant. Luckily, my parents jumped ship too, to stay together. It was great in theory, but then we had to actually make the walk back, having already gone another 2 miles in the opposite direction, along with the group. That trip was difficult for me, I know my parents must’ve been feelin it. The worst part is, there was absolutely nothing I could do to make it easier for them, apart from insisting on taking breaks periodically. We all had to endure the hardship together, but still each on his/her own. It took us probably like 3-4 hours to walk back from where we prayed Dhuhr, all the way to our tents in Mina.

We saw the realness. Straight up realness, subhanAllah. We walked back through the camps for other parts of the world, specifically Bangladesh, Pakistan, India, and West Africa. It’s interesting though, this place has legit 3rd world filth, straight up. I’m so grimy myself right now, it barely even phases me anymore. I’m so desensitized now that something really has to be extreme to get to me at this point, even then it’s not for sure that it’ll illicit a reaction. For example, walking back through Mina, we’d pass by sewage drains that smelled like death and I’d gag, but that was about it. Towards the end of our walk back, I saw a dead body, just lying in the street. I didn’t even blink. Yeah, we saw a dead body, a man laid down, covered in his own ihram towel, subhanAllah. It was right outside one of the information offices for the camp. An ambulance came and picked up the body and drove off, barely anyone even noticed. I’m not even really sure anyone was with him, he may very well have been all alone. My dad actually walked right past the body, coming out of the info office, without even seeing him. This was right after I was telling my mom how Mina is exactly like what a refugee camp must be like – with the transitional housing and all the people packed in, it’s insane.

It was so sad though, going through the other countries’ camps. People don’t live in a way that’s clean or healthy…or safe. And they’re completely comfortable. They carry their customs and habits with them even to the Holy Land. The streets look like a landfill exploded, not just in the camps, but in the areas around the Jamarat as well. All you see when you walk in the streets is empty water bottles, crushed juice boxes, broken paper cups, and discarded flip-flops, littered across the pavement. If you’re lucky, you can actually see the color of the street beneath, when people kick trash out of the way as they trudge along. Outside of the Jamarat, people are just marching along, in droves, huge numbers. All you hear is trash being kicked and crushed as people move along in the streets.

Men were also able to shave their heads now, but to save money on going to barbers, many would shave their own heads, in the streets. Now, not only did you have garbage, you had thick carpets of cut hair strewn across the streets and sidewalks. I’m not exaggerating, it was disgusting. I was sincerely ashamed and disgraced to be a part of this community when I experienced these things. I know I’m not the only one, based on conversations with others around us. Unfortunately, this is a reality, maybe not one we accept, but for many, it’s what they’re used to. I have major problems with that.

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Day 16 – A Night In Muzdalifah

“With Allah’s Help, I think I’ve been protected. That’s what I’m telling myself to keep the paranoia away.”

11/6/11Hajj, Day 3

It’s Eid! Hajji’s don’t really do nothin with it though. We have more rituals to complete today, it’s not over yet.

We spent the night, last night, in Muzdalifah. It was out in the open, on a paved lot, under the street lights. It basically felt like being around millions, trying to sleep on a dusty Wal-Mart parking lot, with buses zooming past all night. I was out cold with some earplugs, a breathing mask and an eye shade. People around me were loud though, seemed like they talked all night. I kept waking up, didn’t sleep well at all. I also had a really freaky dream – I think some jinn was trying to mess with me, honestly.

I dreamt that I felt someone touch my lips, as I was laying in my place, asleep. They put their fingertips on my lips and then pulled out a few strands of hair from the front of my head, then I heard them walk away. So, still in my dream, thinking I’m awake now, I immediately thought there was some witchcraft goin on, so I touched my hair to feel if there were any knots. I found some of my hair tied in a knot on the back side of my head, on the left side. I untied the knot and looked around to see if I could find who had done it. Still dreaming, I talk to my mom, who was laying near me. I asked her if she saw anyone come near me while I was sleeping and she acted really weird. She responded, “Well, what about your wife?” I was like, “What?? What about my wife?!?!” and I got really, really pissed, and she backed off.

I woke up freaked out, not knowing how real it was. In my dream, I started reciting Ayatul Kursi and Surah Al-Falaq for protection, Alhamdulillah. Once awake, I started looking around, scouring the area around me for anything suspicious. When I went to sleep, I was completely surrounded by only my group members. When I woke up, there were two complete strangers lying right next to me, to my left. I eyed them suspiciously for a while, looking for any unusual activity. Never really found anything wrong. I tried to figure out if anyone had been messing with me, so I asked my mom if everyone had slept at the same time. I was trying to see if anyone would have been awake to see if anything happened to me. Seemed like there were a few people awake the whole night, with nothing to report.

I think, if it was real, there was a jinn that tried messing with me, maybe trying to put a spell on me involving a spouse. I think my untying the knot and resisting when they talked to me as my mom to find out about a wife, in addition to reciting the verses, may have helped to ward off any danger. With Allah’s Help, I think I’ve been protected. That’s what I’m telling myself to keep the paranoia away.

We’ll go to do Rami’ soon, where we’ll be stoning the Jamarat, the structures representing Satan. We got on a bus, which we waited an hour for. It took us another hour to get to Mina on the bus, due to all of the traffic. Some of our group, including my mom, chose not to wait for the bus and just walk, and their trip took them an hour. My dad and I were like nah, we’ll wait. Took us 2 hours to get back to our tent.

I feel grimy. My ihram is dirty, I need a shower, my hair needs shaving, and I got a vicious Arafah tan. Soon, habibi, soon, we’ll be done. Sabr, Hajji, sabr.

By the way, the bus was packedd! Fights almost broke out amongst all of us trying to get on. I had to force my way through to get on with my dad, I barely made it. We definitely couldn’t get seats, so we stood the whole way back. I had some dudes armpit in my face the whole time. Nice. Felt like catchin a ride in Pakistan. The bus ride was long, hot, sweaty, sticky. Yum…

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Day 15 – To My Heart’s Content

“Even if none of my du’as are answered, the blessing of hope is generous enough.”

11/5/11Hajj, Day 2

Arafah At Dawn

From 1pm until Maghrib (5:45pm), I did my best to continuously make du’a. For like, 2 ½ hours, I went non-stop, Alhamdulillah – making sure to stand in the sun for as long as I was making du’a. I walked out of our camp, wandered about a mile away, trying to find a secluded area to make du’a, but didn’t have much luck. I ended up standing on the side of one of the streets, where at least no one from my group would see me, so I could be more engulfed in my supplications without any distractions or judgments. Even then, people were continuously walking past and would stop and try talking to me, I guess seeing me standing there with my eyes closed and hands raised wasn’t enough of a sign. I’m finding it’s surprisingly difficult to find the solitude I’ve been yearning for while here.

There were some nice little interactions though. One guy saw me and gave me a bottle of water. Later, a woman walked up to me, carrying 3 cases of water and juice on her head. She was out of breath, speaking to me in Arabic. I froze, not knowing what she wanted, but luckily another man came and helped her get the cases off of her head. Ahh…oops… :/. She rested for a few minutes, then when she went to put the cases back on her head, I helped her prop them back up. She smiled and said, “Thank you”, in English, and walked off. Another guy walked up and stood like 5 or 6 paces away from me and stared at me while I was making du’a. I just ignored him, closed my eyes and kept going. After a little bit, I hear him talking really loud, I look and see him on his cell phone. There was space all around us…but he chose to stand right in front of me and have his conversation. Thankfully, he didn’t stick around long.

I went through my entire 6 page du’a list. Each name. Before I left for this trip, I emailed the majority of my contacts and asked them to send me any du’as they had. I copied and pasted them all into one document and just printed that out, along with the names of everyone that hadn’t sent me anything, so I could still remember to make du’a for them. Going through it, I would read each name, close my eyes, think of the person and try to ask from my heart for whatever good I wanted for them. I would get tired and want to stop, but trudged through, out of the love I have for these wonderful people, mA.

I’m pretty beat right now, even though I ain’t do nuffin else all day. I heard that it was best to be in the sun when making du’a on the Day of Arafah, to feel that heat and intensity, and to remember the Day of Judgment and the Hereafter. Standing out in the sun for that long was especially exhausting, but at least I got a little Arafah tan afterwards :P.

It was a huge blessing to be able to witness this day, Alhamdulillah. Even if none of my du’as are answered, the blessing of hope is generous enough. Allah owes us nothing, but Him giving us the opportunity to ask for whatever we want is truly Majestic. My Lord is Most Bountiful, Allahu Akbar.

Pilgrims Plead For Their Salvation At Arafah

We’re currently in Muzdalifah, it’s about 9:15pm. You’re supposed to delay Maghrib on the Day of Arafah until you get to Muzdalifah. I’m not sure how long you’re allowed to delay it for though, I feel like we waited way too long. Our bus took a while to show up at Arafah, so we didn’t get to Muzdalifah until like 9pm. I’m about to straight knock out though in a few minutes. We’re basically on a parking lot on the side of a street. It legit feels like a highway rest stop, with millions of people all around and buses constantly roaring past. There’s actually alot of pollution here, it’s not the open-air, fresh weather I was expecting when I first heard about Muzdalifah.

I’m gonna slam in my earplugs and drop on this eye shade and get me some good sleep iA. Tomorrow is Eid, it’s also going to be our longest day. We have to stone the Shaitan after Fajr, then wait for our qurbani’s, then we get to shave our heads- woop woop! We can change out of our ihrams too, but we still have to do one more tawaf and sa’iy in the Haram before we’re all clear. That’s alot for one day, but then we’re pretty much chillin. The last 2 days after that are much simpler, just stoning both days.

That’s all for now. Just pray my du’as are accepted. They’re good ones, I promise ;).

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Day 15 – Well, This Is Awkward…

“The first thoughts that came to mind were, “Crap! I’m in my ihram too…and it’s the Day of Arafah!”

11/5/11Hajj, Day 2

The tests have not stopped, they’ve only just started hitting much closer to home. I just got hit with a very personal test. It’s kinda funny really, though totally embarassing.

 So, I took a nap in our tent after sunrise, trying to kill time til Dhuhr, and get some rest. After Dhuhr is when I wanted to focus on making all of my du’as. It was a pretty good nap – restful, comfortable, peaceful. I started to dream. How do I say this…? The dream turned…saucy. That’s hilarious, I didn’t plan on using that word, but it works, I’m stickin with it.

The details of this saucy dream are a bit too personal even for this journal, though it wasn’t graphic or obscene. Ok, enough about that. I immediately woke myself up as soon as it was “happening”. The first thoughts that came to mind were, “Crap! I’m in my ihram too…and it’s the Day of Arafah!” The only day that really matters. So, I recoup, having also just woken up – rude awakening status. I went to the bathroom, trying not to walk awkwardly.

The plan I came up with on the spot was: get into a stall, make ghusl, switch my top ihram sheet to the bottom, wash the bottom sheet, and be out without anyone noticing what happened. Problem was, there were no showers in Arafah, those are only in Mina. Also, everything had to be done in this small toilet stall, where there’s also the infamous hole in the ground. Staying clean was a top priority.

Alhamdulillah, I got through it just fine, no worries. Allah makes it easy when you reach out to Him for help. I got lucky and had a clean stall, with no lines waiting to get in after me. There was also an unusually long water hose in the stall, normally they’re only half that length. There were no hooks though, so I took off my top sheet and slung it over the door, hung my money belt on the door knob, took off my bottom sheet and folded it up loosely. I didn’t have anywhere to set down my bottom sheet, so I took off my flip-flops and sat it on top. I used the super long hose to make ghusl, took my time and cleaned up. Worked out really well actually. I cleaned off the bottom sheet, draped it over my shoulders, wrapped my other sheet around my waist and walked out. Ten minutes tops. Now, I’m sitting in the sun to dry off. Not a single suspecting soul, Alhamdulillah.

Question: If I’m in ihram and there’s an ant crawling on me and I flick it to get it off and end up killing it, do I have to pay a penalty? That just happened…

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Day 15 – Arafah

“The hardships must always accompany the ease, such is the nature of our existence.”

11/5/11 – Hajj, Day 2

The Day of Arafah. Finally, we are here. It is a beautiful morning, maybe 65 deg, light breeze, clear skies. It’s 6:30am. After Fajr, I was planning on sleeping, but I stayed up to watch the sun rise over the mountains. It’s not as delicious as the sunsets, but it has its own majesty about it.

Minute by minute, the world around me is coming to life as the sky fades from dark to light, blue & black to orange & white. I’m sitting with my mother now. Hugs, kisses, asking about our night’s sleep. Waiting for the sun to break from behind the mountain – just a few more minutes now, iA. There’s sakinah (tranquility) and peace here. It’s so thick in the air, you can feel it in your bones. The Day of Mercy has begun.

Last night was more of a mess, none seemingly worth mentioning anymore – though I will briefly, for the sake of this journal. The hardships must always accompany the ease, such is the nature of our existence. My shoes were stolen, from inside the tent. Someone probably took them by accident and left theirs, which looked similar, but I can’t take those when they’re not mine. I’ve resorted to my backup flip-flops, no harm done. They’re terribly uncomfortable though, I don’t think they’ll be very useful if I walk alot.

We slept, packed in our tent, practically pressed against one another – 15 men in one small tent. We got dinner at least, Alhamdulillah. I took the HajjCoach’s advice and used earplugs and an eye shade to sleep and it worked beautifully, Alhamdulillah. I knocked out around 10pm and didn’t wake up until someone shook me at 3am to wake me. I took off my mask and it felt like I just entered the land of the living for the first time – sensory overload. Right back in the thick of it all over again. At least I got some rest, some time away Alhamdulillah, before everything came rushing back.

This morning, we had to leave before Fajr, which is against the sunnah of Mina, but we had to in order to catch our bus to Arafah. With millions of pilgrims traveling in such a short distance with limited resources, we don’t have much control over our situations. They said there were fatwas saying it’s ok to go to Arafah before Fajr, because of the sheer volume of people traveling at the same time. We were already going anyways, but that made the pill easier to swallow.

I got upset with my dad too, sort of lost my cool for a sec. He kept telling me to “stay together”, said it like 6 times. I would be standing no more than 5 or 6 paces away the entire time. I sort of snapped, and was like, “what are you talking about? I’m right here, where am I gonna go??” This was while we were gathering to board onto the bus to leave Mina this morning. I felt bad afterwards, he was trying to make sure everything would go smoothly, in his own way. So much virtue in keeping your mouth shut. I think I’ve saved myself alot of headaches on this trip by staying aloof and staying quiet. Yesterday was the first time I got involved in the drama – out of sheer curiosity and I regret it. It brought no benefit and just gave me a crucial migraine.

Alhamdulillah, it’s behind us now. We have finally been blessed with Arafah. After all of the tests, hardships and setbacks, Allah has allowed us this magnificent day. May He accept our prayers and make us amongst those whose prayers are answered. Ameen.

Here comes the sun…

Sun Rising Over Arafah

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