Journey to Hajj
The date is June 15, 2024; it is the ninth day of the Islamic month of Dhu al-Hijjah, also known as the Day of 'Arafah after the mountain itself. The temperature is recorded at 49 degrees Celsius. Men and women, dressed in white unwoven robes and white Abayas, respectively, are following the rules and dressing symbolically for ritual pilgrim sanctity (iḥrâm). They have gathered at the Plain of 'Arafât and have taken their stand (wuqûf) of faith before God, pleading for His mercy and forgiveness. This event occurs from slightly before noon until sunset.
Nearly 2.5 million pilgrims are crammed into a 35 km (22 mi) broad space at ground base, where a stream of tents representing every continent, some of which are tentless and armed with white umbrellas, and a line of enormous fans that shoot water, all of whom are shouting in unison, "We are all summoned for Him [Allah]." The only one who is deserving of adoration is Allah, by Himself, and in isolation. He is supreme above all things, deserving of all honor and power.
It has been 20 years since I have first made the journey to Hajj. I must acknowledge that the first travel has a particular emotional and spiritual impact than the second one. If pressed to sum up the journey, I would say that it is an exercise in humanity, love, patience, and perseverance.
If not faith and answering Allah's call to perform the Hajj, then what makes a person endure and endure all the heat, bus overcrowding, people, sleepless hours, walks, and the ability to push past any imagined comfort zone?
The moment you extend your arms wide, look up with an open heart and a crying prayer, repentance, and request, all of your troubles disappear. As you circle the Kabaa to perform the rites, you are pushed aside by large and gentle waves of people attempting to enter and exit the Kabaa. You observe individuals of various colors, races, and backgrounds chanting, humming, and praying.
You can't help but chuckle when you hear the woman behind me muttering a wish list: "cure me God, make my daughter happy and provide her with a good husband, etc." Millions of people are fervently hoping for good health, abundant prosperity, and happiness.
Blessed are those who come to merely worship without asking, declaring that Allah deserves to be worshipped for no useful purpose, even though God has requested us to pray and He will undoubtedly answer.
Struck in awe of the beauty and tranquility of the Kaaba, and I wished I could capture the sound of pilgrimage and use it as white noise because of how peaceful it was, with the humming of the worshipper and the tweeting of the hovering birds completing the symphony.
The Hajj is a pilgrimage of introspection and submission. It is a collective proclamation to Allah that only He is worthy of worship. Gathering my thoughts after the Hajj, it feels like a wonderful dream whose details are still clear in my mind. A significant portion of the mind and soul are dominated by the journey around the Holy Kaabaa, the night spent in Arafa, the tents in Mina, the ascending of Nour mountain, visiting the Prophet Mohammad (PBUH), and all of the conversations, smiles, and tears we shared with our fellow brothers and sisters.
May we embody the genuine significance of the Hajj, adorned with humility and love for humanity.