After we’re done, it was time for the adieu. For past two days, the pupil of our eyes had been blessed with the dark hue of the Black Ka’aba. Now it was time to nurture that color in our hearts.
Islam admires and reveres the sentiments of humanity. And a woman too is a part of it. Hajra ran between the two Mounts, across sands and rocks, in tear and fear, for her child crying of thirst. And since then, Allah has ordained all the believers to imitate and emulate Ismail’s Mother as an act of worship.
Life is a continuous cycle of meeting and parting. One leads to another. Like spring and winter. Nay, Life and Death. So the bird has to leave the nest. And the fish out of water. Nightingale off the rose. We left by Isha prayer after bidding salaam to the Beloved.
The ‘barakah’ in time of Madina is incredible: it’s long, deep and thick. As if Time is in no hurry to complete its course. As if time follows another Time here.
The Soul whispered: This is the most happening place in the universe. He is the ocean of light. He is my Sidra… I would burn if go further…
From the travel documentation to hotel reservations, this was my arrangement. A humble gift for them. An effort to gain my paradise, which lie under the feet of my mother.
It’s hard to cool the heart when baked with love in the oven of desire. It is not an easy task to define and confine the meaning of our yearning. We hold dear certain persons and places as if they were genetically embedded into the veins of our soul.