By: May Kosba
Throughout the year, Muslims are always busy; they work for their worldly life as though they are going to live forever and work for their hereafter as though they will die tomorrow, according to Prophetic hadith — each in their own way.
Equally, majority of Muslims around the world enjoy sheer preparedness for the streak of spiritual events majorly marked by Ramadan —the month of rejuvenation of faith. Muslims are zealous for improving and creating ways through which they express their gratitude and thanks to Allah, as well as yielding to His Grace and Mercifulness.
Thus, the year is divided into pre- and post-Ramadan. The fun part throughout is looking forward to the feasts; `Eid-ul-Fitr and `Eid-ul-Adha. Perhaps it is sad to know that Muslims can only celebrate twice a year; however, one of the values of the scarcity of Islamic festivities lies in breeding Muslims to appreciate opportunities when they come together and try to make the best of the occasion according to the teachings of Islam.
This is the core of unification: fasting the same month, celebrating the same feasts, etc., just as Muslims unite in practicing the other rituals of Islam like Prayers, which they all abide by wherever they are, as it says in the Qur’an:
(And wheresoever you people are, turn your faces (in Prayer) in that direction (i.e., al-Masjid Al-Haram orMakkah) [2:144]. The verse strictly and clearly unifies Muslims and creates the most sacred cornerstone on earth, not just for remote Prayer, but also for marking Makkah and the Kaaba as the house of unconditional support and tranquility.
It is the House of Allah; open at all times, spacious, luminous, and, most importantly comforting. How generous it is to be called upon by the Creator and invited to His magnanimous space all the time to enjoy the blessings of sacrifice and repentance to win forgiveness.
The thought beyond doubt is overwhelming. This place can never be anything else but the House of the Creator.
I love the chills of remembering the first time I set foot in A- Masjid Al-Haram and my eyes beheld the Kaaba — I was 10 at that time. I thought if the Kaaba were a person, it must have the most attractive yet peaceful aura.
It is the feeling that strikes you immediately and you know this place can never be anything else but the House of the Creator.
It is the peace that finally lands in your chest, knowing that being here equals safety except from death, which will be most likely the safest predestined life-ending situation Allah has chosen for you. It is the kind of place where boredom is misplaced; preparation is highly required, both physically and spiritually.
Preparation begins with washing up and vowing not to seek trouble, whether verbal or physical, against any other soul in the Al-Masjid. You walk into the gargantuan hall and begin to send your greetings of peace to the Lord.
The act of circumambulating the Kaaba seven times is the warmest greeting ever witnessed between the guest and the Landlord.
Whenever I am languorous and haplessly thinking of meditation and tranquility, I have to remind myself of the feeling I get after praying, and that as much as praying and Ramadan rituals carry ample zeal, what about being at this scared spot?
Think of the amount of the kinetic energy generated once you are there doing what pilgrims do during `Umrah and Hajj.
In Hajj, we visit the Sacred House to say Salam before we embark on a long, daunting journey in Mena, Arafat, and Muzdalefa, where our patience and tolerance are constantly put to the test. Then, you are back to put a closure to your spiritual trip, wishing that, despite your fatigue, you are accepted and your sins are down to zero and that all of a sudden, you are like a newborn baby, but with much bigger responsibility to keep your new slate clean for as long as you can.
Published on Onislam.net