Hajj - how it differed from my expectations
But that’s not what I got.
There was hardship. Every experienced ‘Hajji’ warns beforehand of the difficulties but the enthusiasm of performing the pilgrimage pushed those concerns to the back of my mind… until, of course, I landed on the tarmac in Jeddah.
Sabr (patience); it’s a word you hear a lot during Hajj!
Every experienced ‘Hajji’ warns beforehand of the difficulties |
Problems at the airport, transportation issues, the cacophony of noise on the road and check-in complications at the hotel all impeded the zen-like state I thought I’d be experiencing.
It was stopping me from establishing a connection with Allah – the very job I was here to do.
During the Hajj rites, pilgrims are stationed in camps in Mina. Sleeping in a medium-sized tent with 100 other men, cheek by jowl, required patience and understanding.
Again, finding solitude and a bit of one-to-one worship time with the Almighty was difficult. But, amongst the melee, there was friendship and camaraderie with the fellow pilgrims – and that felt spiritual.
On the second day, the pilgrims left for Mount Arafah to spend the afternoon in prayer. The Day of Arafah is known for the expiation of sins for the past year and the coming year.
Again it was difficult to find a spot for quiet contemplation amongst the two million clad in white. The searing heat didn’t help either. Eventually, I managed to find a sparse patch of dust to sit on, away from the crowds. And for the first time, I felt that spiritual connection I yearned. Raising my hands, eyes closed – I let my heart go.
When I opened my eyes half-an-hour later I realised someone had found my quiet corner – a banana and carton of juice was left beside me. It was a heartening gesture from a stranger – and I didn’t mind the person puncturing my quiet moment either. It too felt spiritual.
Finding solitude and a bit of one-to-one worship time with the Almighty was difficult. But, amongst the melee, there was friendship and camaraderie with the fellow pilgrims – and that felt spiritual |
After sunset, we left for Muzdalifah, an overcrowded area where pilgrims collect pebbles for the Stoning of the Devil ritual and spend the night in the open air. Despite the chaos of sleeping under the stars with a couple of million people, it was relaxing after such a tiring journey.
But the shut-eye lasted only for a few hours. All pilgrims leave Muzdalifah before sunrise. Our coach was leaving in two hours – enough time, I assumed, to use the toilet.
The queues were long despite thousands of portacabins. I waited nearly two hours. But as I was about to enter the toilet, an elderly gentleman cut through the queue and slipped in before me. It was one of those laugh or despair moments, especially as the coach was threatening to leave without me.
A chap in the queue put his hand on my shoulder and said, “It’s okay… sabr.” I concurred, and we both burst out laughing – resigned to, and accepting of, fate. The c'est la vie moment felt spiritual too.
As the days wore on, the difficulties continued. But by undertaking the various rituals – the Stoning of the Devil, the Tawaf (circumambulation of the Kaaba), the Sae’ee (running between two hills) – I realised finally that dealing with hardship was part of spirituality too.
The Hajj rites replicate the problems faced by Prophet Abraham and his family. These were issues bestowed on them to increase their connection with Allah |
The Hajj rites replicate the problems faced by Prophet Abraham and his family. These were issues bestowed on them to increase their connection with Allah.
So in answer to my question, was the Hajj experience what I expected? No. I was expecting two weeks of interruption free spirituality. But Hajj taught me there is no such thing.
Spirituality is not just about grabbing moments to pray and supplicate. It’s also about the interruptions. It’s about dealing with problems, difficulties and responsibilities with acceptance, grace and above all sabr.