UMRAH PART 1 (MADINAH)

So, let's start.

When my Dad told me the good news that he've booked the tickets for Umrah this year, I didn't know how to react. The 'Angel' part of me was jumping up and down in happiness at the thought that I would finally be able to see Ka'bah again and my 'Devil' part just could not stop listing out all the reason why I shouldn't go.

For one, the guy from IDP just called, insisting that I proceed with the VISA for Australia a.s.a.p (which I'm sure he didn't mean 2 weeks later) and I wanted to settle my shopping list and medical check up and everything which will take up quite a lot of time so I'm not sure if getting them settled after I'm back on January would be such a good idea considering we're thinking of pressing MARA for an early flight to settle accommodation matters.

So, I wasn't exactly ready to go.

Which was ridiculous.

Writing this and thinking back of how absurd I was is just plain embarrassing.

I mean, what was I thinking? That all these worldly matters are within my control.

And that this Umrah thing, it can wait.

Please, someone, give me a hammer and allow me to knock my head off.

There is no way, no no no way in the future (insyaAllah)  that I'm gonna think twice again.

And people, please, if you have the chance to do Umrah, go.

Makkah and Madinah are two holy cities that I can't fully describe how amazing they are. You feel like crying all the time, you meet incredible people with different backgrounds and you just, you feel belonged.

It's not like a visit to some foreign land.

It's like going back home.

And everybody acknowledges that. They know that you too, even if you're not from Saudi Arabia, that this is your place. Just as well.

This year, our route was a little different than last time. We spend around 7 days at Madinah first, then we proceeded with the UMRAH at Makkah.

When we arrived at Madinah, it was around 3 am and it was freeezing. My sweater was in the luggage and I only had my black jubah on, so we had to do an immediate check in or I'll die. Not. Lol. The lobby was well heated thank God. (We stayed at a simple 3 star hotel that is within a walking distance from the Women's Door (Babunnisa') of Masjidin Nabawi. The good thing about staying nearby the masjid is that you can go back and forth easily without trouble. And the calling for prayer, the azan, is always loud and clear so you can't miss it. (Not that anybody will, I think, considering the hadith,

Abu Ad-Dardaa’  reported on the authority of the Prophet , 

that the reward for praying at the Sacred Mosque (in Makkah)

 is equal to the reward for one hundred thousand regular prayers; 

the reward for praying at the Prophet’s Mosque (in Madeenah) 

is equal to the reward for one thousand regular prayers; 

and the reward for praying at the Al-’Aqsa Mosque (in Jerusalem) 

is equal to the reward for five hundred regular prayers. 

[Al-Bazzaar] This is an authentic narration.

(source here)

Here's some pics I took the next day once I was all sober from the long journey of more than 9 hours flight and 5 hours bus ride. The weather was beautiful and the masjid was beyond perfection. Hence, no filter; since I'm too lazy to photoshop anyway.

The pathway to women's entrance. 

 Clean shot with Mr. Ipod. Yes, he came along. Of course.

The umbrella roof closes at night (a genius invention)

The crowd, after isya' prayer on Friday's night

Madinah, is the city founded by Rasulullah   and I couldn't imagine what it must have been like back then 14 hundred years ago when it happened. The people must have been so happy. Their life must have meant more than anything. To be able to walk side by side with the Prophet, to listen to his talks and ask his opinion. To witness the arrival of wahyu and listening to it on the spot. To be known by him. And his family. And his companions.

Walking alone around the masjid area, I came to the green dome where below, was the place where Rasulullah  was burried and as I was saying my saalam to him, it got me thinking. It must have been hard for the Muslims then to lose him. Such a noble leader unlike other. The Last Messenger of mankind. The man who have inspired the world. The chosen one.

I grow up learning about him but I have never such deep feeling of loss than looking at Maqam (the grave) with my own eyes.

I wonder if he knows me.

And I wonder what he thinks of me.

Or the kind of life I've led.

We had a tour around madinah a few days before our journey to Makkah. Among the places were the Quba' mosque, the Qiblatain mosque, the Jabal Uhud (where the second war in the history of Islam, 'Battle of Uhud ',took place), and the Kurma Plantation.

The battle ground.

Jabal Uhud

Quba' mosque

Qiblatain Mosque

Kurma tree =D

After 7 days, we bid goodbye to Madinah and prepared ourselves for Umrah in Makkah. Which was around 5 hours driving distance away. The journey was...long. Particularly because there was nothing except desert and rocky mountains, sands after sands for view. I kept looking out for camels or goats or I dunno, some trees, perhaps, but there was nothing. Just a long road that stretch endlessly. The guys took turns leading the talbiyah on the bus microphone and about 2 and a half hours later, everybody in the bus started to doze off as dusk approached and veiled the sky. And really, it was veiled.

The sky was pitch black. 

Really, really black.

I don't know how the Prophet and Abu Bakr did it. Walking through the desert in pitch black, with limited food and water supply, with no living creatures around, at the state of being chased, all the way from Makkah. They must have had total devotion, their belief and dependence towards Allah must have been throughout that no doubt was crossing their hearts to give up.

I was on a bus, and even that I complained I couldn't sleep properly and that the journey was too long.

If somebody would have told me that I was to walk; or ride a camel, I'd flip.

Before long, we reached Makkah and at the sound of busy honkings everywhere, we know we've reached the city.

The Holy City where stood Ka'bah and Masjidil Haram.

Where Rasulullah was born. Where he grew up.

Makkah.