Part 3 (Aziziyah compartments)

Day 9 (15 August 2018)

Off we set to Aziziyah. We prayed and showered quickly whilst also completing our usual last-minute skirmishes in the room, in the hope that we have not forgotten anything. Thankfully, the breakfast banquet was open and was still made available to us. The window for eating our breakfast was half hour, we had to be at the basement of the hotel at 07:30 am sharp, for us catch our coach.

09:45 am in the morning and we are still at the basement. I think me and mum started getting used to this. To be fair, I was always patient during matters like this. Mum was good for the most part, however, she did grow a bit impatient, every so often. She was not to blame. I texted one of the other guys in another group who were also on the same package as us, and they had informed me that they reached the reception at 9:30am, so that did slightly bother me. But not enough to trigger any annoyance.

Bus was finally here, HOWEVER, the communications leader, informed us that our coach would not be arriving at the anticipated place of pick up, due to traffic. We were now required to go on a detour for us to board our coach. I was helping Q, so I had taken the unconventional route of using the lifts. Surprisingly we were left behind by the Travel Express Team. We were told to wait. Mum quietly had a go at me for helping Q. The guy had 25 bottles, a folded-up wheel-chair and three hand luggage’s, how could I not help!!!

I couldn’t really fault mum for her slight annoyance. So, I had taken on board what she said.

One Call to the rescue…

All in all, my observation of Travel Express so far, is that the Bashir family and the group leaders were super friendly. Travel Express stuck to their word in most matters and somethings were just not in their control, so they should be not held to ransom in those particulars However, the team had communication issues and quite often we all fell victim to this. This particular situation that I will discus (briefly) demonstrates my observation very clearly.

As we were waiting for Travel Express to collect us, I bumped in to Yasin Bhai (One Call leader), he enquired what we were doing. When I explained the situation, he confidently asked me to follow him and he assured me that he would get me on the coach, as he was staying in the same compartment as us (which was re-assuring).

Yasin Bhai was right. We were now on the coach to Azziziyah. Yasin Bhai, won a place in my heart, at that particular moment. On top of helping me, he had an embracing smile and a warming character. May Allah reward him abundantly.

We arrived at the compartment and were welcomed with roses, a red carpet and a grand entrance at the reception (for the first time in Saudi I felt like a Hajji). We had drinks as we entered, local coffee, chocolates, cakes and other celebratory finger foods. Whilst basking in the aura of celebration for a good 20 minutes. I noticed a very angry looking Yasin Bhai storming up the compartment to confront Bashir Snr. A few heated words were exchanged. The crux of the argument was that, Yasin Bhai was annoyed that his group were left in the coach, whilst we were enjoying all the luxuries of VIP guests. I totally understood where Yasin Bhai was coming from. His pilgrims should not settle for second best and they should have had the luxury to settle in to the compartment just as we did.

For the first time me and mum would be separated from our usual arrangements. I was over the moon that I was getting my own space. She didn’t massively irritate me up until this point, however, I needed to have my own breathing time. Now the only issue that I faced, is being with roomed with a boring and reserved bunch. A few faces came to mind.

Luckily, I was blessed with three other guys who didn’t fit the ‘miserable git’ criteria that I was anticipating. We went up to our rooms and were blessed to find a nice and cosey room with three pin plugs ports. The shower was decent as well (nothing like Swiss Hotel), but thumbs up all around.

Sunnah Police and my hair….

After connecting with Amin (room-mate), we covered a whole host of topics; football, his life experience and his path to religion. Amin, asked me about my hair and why I didn’t shave it, and then went on to mentioned how I disrespected the prophet (PBUH). I gave him a subtle but sharp response that I was aware with what I was doing and that people need not spend too much time worrying about my hair rather they should focus their own time on ibadah

What really triggered his response, was that Amin asked me whether I had chance to kiss the Hajj-e-Aswad (Stone from heaven). Very innocently I responded that I avoided kissing the stone as you would be required to perform a high degree of sin to kiss the stone. He had told me that he had kissed it and helped others. He was a bit embarrassed telling me considering the information that I had disclosed. But who was I to judge but his alternate response would suggest otherwise!!

At around 4pm Yasin Bhai did a quick tour guide for his group of the local area. I found this extremely beneficial. Once again, One call was winning more brownie points and Travel Express reputation was slowly dropping in my view. Yassin Bhai invited me to his Hajj seminars that he was holding leading up to Hajj.

An Ummah divided?

Three groups in one compartment with one Musallah, yet all three groups did not pray behind one Imam. Am hoping that this is an one-off incident. Considering we are all from the doctrine of the Sunnah, I was shocked how divided the three groups were over basic prayers.

Sheikh’s lecture will be taking place tomorrow at 4 after Asr.

Dinner Time:

The Buffet lunch was not considering the luxuries that were afforded to us in the grandeurs of the Swissotel. We were with Q and his family. Today was pretty chilled out. Mum was ill the whole day, so she was under strict instructions to relax until the next two days, so that she can recover for Jummah.

Very quickly, I found myself a safe-haven, in the compartment’s reception. This place was my get-a-way for a number of reasons. One, I was not stuck in the confinements of my room and most importantly, the Wi-Fi reception only worked down stair in the reception area.

Me and Q chilled late in to the evening. I stayed a bit longer to ensure that my blogging was coming along in accordance to my daily schedule and I was still scribbling away with my dua book too.

Thought of the day:

Worry about your own Ibadah- Mohammed Ali

Day 10 (16 August 2018)

Fajr was prayed in the confines of my room after suffering from the sheer exhaustion from Makkah to Aziziyah. I think the exhaustion was a concoction of mum being ill and all the moving around since we arrived in the country.

Breakfast in the morning as usual. However, Q’s wife is nowhere to be seen. I kind of realized that there was an issue. Worry and exhaustion was written all over his face. His mother always looked lost all the time, bless her.

Mum came down and she looked like she went 12 rounds with Mike Tyson. I attempted to get her to eat much as possible. I realized that a visit to the pharmacy was high on my to-do list.

Very quiet day, other than a quick venture out to the pharmacy after Zuhr, to get mother on the mend. In all honestly I was slightly worried. I would rather her do my head in than be bugged down with this flue and plus I didn’t want her struggling for Hajj.

An expert of the Urdu language? or what pressure can make you speak

Whilst everyone else was feasting with KFC, Burger and McDonald’s. I was eating the local cuisines. Unfortunately, I was not spoiled for choice, so the afghan food around the corner would do just fine. Also mums illness confined me, to not wanting to go, plus my Hajj experience was to abstain from worldly stuff. So, I guess this was good prep.

I went to the Afghan shop which had a surprisingly orderly cue. A lot of the customers were from the Mother/father land. Where our compartment was based, there were a lot of pilgrimers from India/Pakistan. Both governments had worked together to buy compartments in the whole area to ensure their pilgrims had a set location in Azizyah. This is about the only time I have ever heard of Indo-Pak Unity.

As my turn came to order, I realized that English was totally foreign to this guy. So, I was left with no option, except for speaking Urdu. To be fair, it was extremely coherent and understandable to the Afghan brother, so I guess my spoken Urdu is not bad at all. To be fair, all those years of Star Plus and Indian movies, one should have mastered the language. But in all honesty linguistics have never been my plus point.

I also dropped my clothes to the launderettes in that time. Price was 8 pounds which was not too bad. However, as a western foreigner, I always knew the prices were bumped up a bit. So, negotiating with my Bengali brother came to no avail.

I had food with mother in her room. All the women she was sharing her room with were out. Mum had looked so much better after taking her anti-biotic’s. We had food and somehow, I was content and now I could focus on going to the mall this evening. Even though there was not a plan to do so.

Sheikh’s lecture:

We all made our way down to the prayer area in the compartment. Sheikh gave an extreme and thorough account of what to expect from the hajj experience and how to make this process as spiritually engaging as possible. Am someone that learns through demonstrations, Sheikh’s oral delivery was first class, considering how quiet he was.

All in all. The lecture was amazing. As each day past in Saudi, the more increasingly I looked forward to Hajj.

The Beast in Carnate?

Q was having a terrible day with his wife. She refused to meet him and stayed in the room the whole day. I proposed that we should have our late night-tea once everyone was asleep just to get his mind of things.

Tea time at 12am. As we made our way to the café (which oversaw the reception on the ground floor), we realized that brother Wahid was sitting there, he looked very depressed, so I stupidly brought it to Q’s attention. Q decided to invite him. Wahid did not refuse the invitation.

Am going to cut this story short. This guy turned out to be a pretty horrid individual. He was unhappy with the compartment and everything within its surroundings. Both, myself and Q, regretted the moment we had even prompted him about his issues. He was willing to throw the kitchen sink if he had the chance. The language which was used and the threats which were proposed, were very explicit and one’s that I wish not to disclose, for this blog. Considering, where we were, and the purpose of our visit, I really could not sympathies with him. May Allah have mercy on hi

Goodnight

Thought of the day:

‘Nothing teaches us about the preciousness of the Creator as much as when we learn the emptiness of everything else’, Charles Spurgeon.

Day 11 (17 August 2018)

After breakfast, I gave it a couple of hours before applying my facial. Brother Hussain-al Azhari, was looking in shock/ amusement whilst I was applying the dark red, strawberry flavoured mixture across my face. He jolted a few steps back when I offered him the pot. One would have assumed that I was offering him drugs. I laughed at his reaction and so did he.

*Hussain Al-Azhari, was a very knowledgeable man. After all he was a student from the famous Al-Azhar institute in Egypt. I would often spend the evenings picking his brain in terms of Islam and the current political situation in Egypt. It was most beneficial being around Sheikh Hussain.

Great news…endemic issues with the showers in our compartment. After hearing the guys mentioning the issue, I quickly decided that I would see if Q’s showers were working, so that I could make full use of washing off the face mask and ultimately being ready for Jummah. Luckily, Q had knocked on my door to inform me that I should use his shower. The shpwer stopped working after I used it. SODS LAW!!!

Taken Part 3, Saudi Arabia?

After completing my shower. I made my way to the reception, in the hope that I would be able meet some brother’s so that I could go to the local mosque for Jummah. However, the brothers at reception, notified me that the local mosque would be packed and that are only option would be, to pray outside. With the current level of heat, jummah was not an option, plus I would probably not be fit enough for hajj, in terms of sun-burn.

I met brother Q. He told me that he was going to pray Jummah with his wife. I left him to it, I don’t think his wife would have believed me even if I did tell her.

Luckily, I met a couple of the One Call boys. They made plans to pray Jummah at the Al-Rajhi mosque (second biggest Mosque in Makkah), I kindly asked if I could join them. The brothers were kind enough to take me along with them. The One Call boys were extremely kind and a heart-warming bunch. They were all Bengali and this just re-enforced everything that I have always known about the Bengali community at large.

Ranjhi Mosque was lovely. The sermon was in Arabic so it was difficult to grasp. However, I knew the Sheikhs dua was revolved around the Hajj and it was moving, this really touched me, and it really made me feel extremely lucky that I was one of the chosen ones to undertake such a beautiful journey amongst a religion of 1.8 billion followers.

As we left the mosque. Shumon and Abdul Hannan decided that we should grab a bite to eat at Makkah Mall. We made our way to Makkah Mall and ate till our hearts were content. I got to know Shumon and Abdul Hannan a bit better during the next couple of hours which was good.

*Abdul Hannan, was my sister-in-law’s, younger brothers best mate and Shumon was someone I met in Hajj. Very nice brother who had the unfortunate illness of constantly spewing verbal diarrhea. But in all honesty, from what I gathered, he was a lovely guy. A bit of a diva like-myself in terms of making sure we were looking prim and proper but you cant shoot someone down for wanting to look the part.

Shumon met my mother one breakfast. I Introduced him to my Mother and the first thing he said was, I don’t like Paki’s. Luckily my mother was not well and her hearing impacted because of it. Nevertheless, I knew he was not being malicious and I saw the humor in his reckless humor.

At 2:30pm we decided to leave the Mall. As per the usual routine, we looked for a cab and it was bizarrely unusual not to find someone at this time. *In the middle-east, people tend to avoid shopping during the day due to the heat, a so the locals tend to prefer come out in the evening. Eventually, we found a cab driver (not licensed) but everyone seemed content to jump in, after all, he was only charging 15 Riyals for the journey. Which was a total bargain on our side.

The driver was an Arab and that too, a super friendly one. Something was not sitting right with this guy. He was a chatter box, but a chatter box in all the right ways. We ended up talking about religion and politics and this brother had a very unorthodox view compared to most Arabs that lived here. He was against MBS (Mohammed Bin Salman-Crown Prince) and he was not too fond of Ibn Tayimmah’s doctrine of Islam which is being practiced in his country. Strangest thing he was not as Shia. He was clearly discontent and extremely unhappy with current situation in the country.

One thing lead to another, the driver, literally decided to give us a tour of the whole of Makkah. He covered the mountain that Ibrahim once used to sacrifice his son, Mina, Muzdalifah, Sheikh Sudais’s and Shuraim’s house, mount Hira and Thur, where Khadija (r.a) was buried and where the Ethiopians were defeated when they attempted to conquer Makkah. With things like this you can only take with a pinch of salt. What is real and what is not? Only god knows, nevertheless, it was interesting.

With that being said. I was slightly worried by this mans over hospitality and that I was going to run late for Sheikh’s Hajj seminar. The ever joking Shumon echoed the same feelings, a couple of times he grew concerned about our conversations with the taxi driver and gave me an anxious tap on my leg. To some degree I shared his concern, I wanted to complete my hajj and see my family again. On the other hand, I was laughing as worry was struck all over his face.

We all stood resolute and firm in that we wanted to go back to the compartment. He drove us back without charging us a Riyal. As we were leaving he offered to take us to a Spa. I was not sure what to make of my one and half hour car journey? Fear, humour, love, respect or awkwardness. Maybe all five feelings were right?

I return back to the compartment and am greeted with groups of people frantically telling me that my mum was looking for me and apparently she was none too impressed. Q was laughing. I think he got a kick out of my mum’s reaction and my irritation.

I looked for mum and reversed the whole situation. I demanded that people should feel sorry for me, as I went through hell and back, after my strange cab journey. My mum and others could not stop laughing. So, I successfully won.

Sheikh’s lecture went as planned. Nothing went wrong and I was more motivated about Hajj.

Hair Episode, Missing Dua book and Clothes Pandemonium:

After the lecture. I couldn’t find my book. In search of my dua book, I became a frantic. Two months of writing duas and preparing myself for the day Arafat, all for it to go missing. I felt extremely numb and lost. I spoke to my mother about my misfortune. She was no use and clearly did not find the right words to cheer me up. The feeling of being numb and sad quickly escalated to anger.

To let of some steam. Me and Q went to the laundry service to collect my clothes. Q, had never seen me angry. Five minutes later, we are at the laundrette, and they have given me only half my clothes. Considering how resistant he was to reduce his inflated price, I expected a bit more in terms of service. So, I literally hounded him in my father tongue. Luckily, I located my clothes in other people’s laundry. I felt better now since I managed to get my clothes back.

Dinner in the camps was going to be served in 10 minutes so we rushed our way to the lifts so that I could put my clothes away. As I was making my way to the lift, a brother stopped me in the reception area and sent me his greetings, which I replied with a huge smile. He was insistent in stopping me so I gathered it was of importance. Without introducing himself, he went straight for the jugular ‘Brother you hair, why is it like that?’

I turned around and gave him my nonchalant look. His lips creased and an awkward smile appeared on his face. I asked him, what Islamic institute did he study in? What degree of scholarly work is he involved in? The last question I asked was, whether he was interested in learning my name? Obviously, there was no response. A couple of people started sniggering from my response. I felt sorry for him but today was not the right day for a lecture.

I explained to him, that I was frustrated with people being more concerned about my hair then their own hajj?

I went to my room and found the book waiting on my bed for me.

The dynamics of the day changed. I was now happy Alhamdulillah. Tomorrow is another day!!!!

Day 12 (18 August 2018)

Breakfast with the usual suspects.

The mixture of happiness, excitement and tenseness. I could not really fathom the feeling. But in every which way you look at it, I considered it a good thing.

I was super calm. Myself and mum decided that we should go Makkah Mall and Souk Salam for the last bits for our Hajj trip.

We went Souk Salam to have a quick look around the markets. Both me and mum were shocked at the huge price comparison between Makkah and Souk Salam. Another a couple of visits would be required after Hajj.

We then went to Makkah Mall. We picked up small bits and pieces and went to the food hall. Mum saw the old Mauritian couple so we sat with them. I was joking about with mum on the table and uncle politely got up and left. When he was a safe distance from the table she burst in to tears. Her husband was upset when he saw the relationship between me and my Mother. Two of his three children have left Islam and he was clearly cut up as it opened wounds.

It made me wonder. How much of a great relationship me and Mother have? Granted we are always bickering like an old married couple but we have such a great relationship (Allhumdulilah). Am not sure who should take credit? My Mother nurturing us or my ability to maintain the relationship as an adult? Allah knows best. But am grateful for this blessed relationship. I think, one day when she goes, a huge part of me will go too.

The rest of the day was spent packing our necessities. I was slightly nervous but the big day was fast approaching in six hours or so.

Hajj Part 2: Ummrah and Makkah

Day 5 (11 August 2018)

Labyk-allah-huma-labayk (am here my lord am here)

We are preparing for our Ummrah so I changed in to my Ehram (Two un-stitched garments).

The first trip of our eternal journey starts today. We leave for Makkah at 7:30 am in the morning and we should arrive at 4:30pm. Throughout this trip, me and my mother have been extremely punctual when instructed by our group leaders.

We managed to have breakfast and arrived at the foyer at 7:10am (irritatingly). Only to be told by the travel coordinator (Mohammed Bashir jnr) that we would be travelling by cab. *We were non- the wiser, that there was a problem. So, at this stage, I was kind of glad that I would be travelling by car, as we would be facilitated with more leg space and would also have the privilege to arrive in Makkah before the rest of our group.

Unfortunately, this privilege of travelling by car would be short lived. We learnt that The Ministry of Hajj had rejected our visas to Makkah, and therefore we would have to visit the Ministry of Hajj office (opposite Dajjal palace) to have our visas approved. Nine others shared the same fate, however, a couple of the Hujjaj reacted to the news in a negative way. Long story short we eventually had our visas approved at 10:30am and set off for Makkah.

Patience are a virtue, otherwise the Shaytaan will destroy you?

The virtues of this holy pilgrimage are heavily based on patience. Having patience is the foundation of conquering all spiritual conquest. The sahabas and the prophets’ struggles were heavily based on subscribing themselves to a high degree of patience.

We eventually arrived at 6pm. However, the 9-hour journey was turmoiled with struggle and obstacles. Firstly, we had three stops and each stop lasted approximately 25 minutes. The Meccan securities were being total ass-holes and they were disrespecting the pilgrims with non-sensicle questions about our visas. Secondly, the two pilgrims who were in the car, did not really master the art of listening and I felt like my English was poor as they never understood anything I said and they would always talk over me. They also had the gall to blame us for not having our visas even though we were all in the same boat. Thirdly, my Mother decided to patronize my ability to stay organized and finally I almost got in to fight outside the haram as we were going to perform our Umrah. This was the cherry on top of the icing. I wanted to really blow up there and then.

Just for the record, I embraced all the obstacles and overcame all the challenges, to the best of my ability. I did get annoyed towards the end, but the essential thing is that I never lost temper and never acted in a manner which would void my umrah. May Allah (SWT) accept all my struggles and also accept my umrah.

We finally arrived at our hotel. I quickly left the cab and zoomed for the hotel room. This was due to a number of reasons which I have stated above. Allhumudulilah, what a site I was gifted with. 17 floors up and we had an uninterrupted window view of the Haram. Myself and mum must have done something very virtuous in life, for us to be blessed with such a view. I don’t think in our wildest dreams did we envisage that we would have such a breath-taking view. Am not the most comfortable with heights, however, those fears were in the back of my mind.

Our Hajj Umrah (The first real test)

After tearing ourselves away from our room view. Myself and mum made our way to the haram. We were swallowed by the swarm of pilgrims that had arrived at the haram. Magribh, was always the busiest time for prayer. There must have been at least 1 million pilgrims in the Haram at one go.

Going back to the Umrah. Like a bunch of chicken locked up in a cage, we managed to labour through or way in to the entrance. Getting in to the Haram was never easy. An altercation had taken place between me and this man. Typical, it had to be a Pakistani; him and his wife were pushing through a crowd in which there was no space to maneuver. I saw him first, trying to push through on my right side, when he had no luck, he tried to push through me until I reminded him that he should show some sabr. After failing to push through me. He then went to the left and decided to push through my mum. Naturally being protective and fearful of losing my mum before the start of our Umrah, I put my arm in front of the women. Her husband reaction was to push me with all his might; at that particular moment I saw the red mist and stepped towards him but luckily I moved as quick as I stepped forwards. The fear of my Umrah not being accepted weighed heavily upon me and that’s why I voided any further altercation.

Mum was proud that I refrained from any altercations. On my way down to the haram area, to my surprise, I bumped in to Imran Scars (A Tooting lad). I shouted out to him, we quickly embraced and we were quickly separated by the Haram security. A certain level of excitement and happiness had been infused since meeting Scars. There is also something when you meet one of your own in foreign lands.

We made our way through our tawaf (Seven rounds around the Kabah). That was physically demanding and soul torturing. Getting through the tawaf and looking after mum was my main objective.

Allhumdulilah, we finished our tawaf and it was time for Esha. Soon as the Kiyaam was made, like a tidal wave, both of us were pushed in to Marwa and Safwah section of the Haram. Me and mum quickly made a point of access for after Esha. This was our only chance of meeting. The sheer volume of people and the way things move in Salah is quite incredible. Imagine being in Westfield for new-years sales, times it by 50, that’s the nearest I can get to describe the scene.

We were advised by some very kind brothers from Sheffield that we should use the second floor for Sai but mum was insistent to complete the Sai in its origins. Although this irritated me, I did understand. After the first turn, I managed to lose mum at the green lights (Brisk walking for men only), a group of Indonesians swarmed the green light area and I lost sight of mum. I frantically looked for her to no avail. I eventually found her on her third round. I was ecstatic to find her and we then completed our Umrah.

*Looking for someone in the Haram without a mobile phone, is like looking for a needle in a haystack. Impossible!!!!

I had taken her back to the hotel and cut my hair (Not shaved my hair). After showering and changing my clothes. We went to get some food from the old place that we used to eat from. We made our way back to the hotel for some much-needed sleep.

Day 5 finally over.

Thought of the day

Whatever you pray for the Most, Allah (SWT) will bring in front of you as your test. In my case, emotional intelligence and patience.

Day 6 (12 August 2018)

Both myself and mum woke up at 6:30am, we both missed Fajr, due to the physical and emotional strains of the previous day. We happily prayed our salah in front of our window view of the Haram. By Allah (SWT), some of the sweetest moments in my life have already been taken, overlooking the Holy Haram.

After praying salah, I went to sleep for an hour or two, and then woke up for 8:30am. After I woke up, I still did not feel as spiritually engaged, as one should feel when preparing for such an important journey. Something was missing and I really needed to trigger the fire of spirituality in to me.

The magic Mufti!!

After pondering for a couple of hours. I decided that a Mufti Menk YouTube video would do the trick. I watched a video which basically covered the reasons for Hajj and the spirituality of the Hajj journey. The video was an hour and half and it was extremely beneficial for me as it detailed how and what I should do to fine-tune myself for the journey of a lifetime. For the first time in the trip, I felt like the journey had a purpose, and that purpose would drive me to work with a spiritual momentum.

We had breakfast at the hotel. The hotel buffet was super amazing and I was taken back by the wide variety of food which was at our peril. The presentation was world-class, with foods from all across the continent, a vast array of colours, with carefully decorated pieces of fruits and vegetables, scored carefully in to an image of a flower or an animal. Obviously, I held myself back from gawping with my mouth wide open, rather I had adopted the nonchalant approach, which enabled me to act as normal as possible.

We both ate conservatively but nonetheless we did eat comfortably allhumdulilah. We were held in good company by uncle from Nottingham and Q’s family. Plan of action was to spend most of our time in the Haram.

*Uncle was an elderly gentleman of South African- Indian descent. A very warming man standing 6ft 4, with a huge heart, and a man who only spoke kind words. He was accompanied by his wife.

Q, Qadeer

Over the last few days I have spent lot of time with Q. We have the same kind of humor and we were both extremely laid back. Q is a good 12 year older than me but that did not stop the growth of our friendship

I have felt very sorry for him (not like I was taking pity). He has disclosed his life to me and it was difficult holding back tears . Q’s father suffered from mental health and was extremely abusive towards his mother, two of his sisters suffered from both physical and mental health issues. He is currently living in Cardiff with his two children and wife, whilst his mum lives with the other two in London.

What I have observed so far from this trip. Q is stuck between two women and is finding difficult to find middle ground between the two. On the dinner table his wife has thrown several comments about her mother-in-law. It’s not too difficult to realise that she clearly does not get along with her It’s not my place to judgement so I will comment no further but It was uncomfortable.

The reality of marriage has dawned on me. Both Q and his wife have given me their opinions on marriage and nothing seems to be tickling my fancy. Nevertheless, their views are clearly based on their own marriage issues. They both make some valid points in their own perspectives.

Myself, mum and Q’s family spent time strolling the shopping center within the hotel. Loads of the best branded shops with the top fast-food chains. Myself and mum had the grilled chicken and rice, something we had previously enjoyed on our previous trip to Makkah. The local restaurants in the malls are far much cheaper and provide better value for money. It would be wise if you are looking to travel to Makkah.

Thought of the day

The Hajj journey is done purely for the sake of Allah (SWT), the Hajj which is accepted by Allah (SWT), is the one which is supplicated in his name first. Try to spend enough time doing Ibadah rather than engaging in the market environments, which is seemingly unavoidable in Makkah.

Day 7 (13 August 2018)

Mum wakes up at 3:00am to get up for Fajr. She was adamant that we pray in the Haram and more important get a decent praying spot. Mum was panicking (for no reason) and threatened to leave me. So, I quickly wore whatever I found and ran out to the mosque. The heat was still so intense at 3am in the morning. I felt like I was coming down with a fever so I quickly found a spot and calmed myself down. We spent a good hour an half before Fajr salah making whatever supplication we could. The fever managed to ease.

Breakfast in the morning. The usual indulgence without over indulging (If you pardon the pun). I told mum that we should get the shopping out of the way so that we can focus our time as much on Ibadah as possible. Mum was of the same view.

We set off after Zuhr salah. Mum made her way through every jewellery shop in the hotel complexes. The heels of my feet were becoming heavy and I felt like I was losing a centre meter of my height with each step I was taking. Finally, I found an Islamic book-shop, so, I told mum that I would be sitting in there till she needed me. I finally found a book on Imam Ghazali, a very thought provoking book that I would invest in before I leave Makkah.

The majority of her shopping was done so we decided to grab some food. We went to the old food mall that we usually visited and shared a half chicken with rice. We made our way back, mum was really happy, she was ecstatic that I supported her throughout her shopping experience.

I was happy that she was happy. But it’s funny, you go shopping with a woman without complaining, all of a sudden you become the best son in the world.

I think Q was missing my company or he was looking for a break, maybe a bit both. So, he dropped me a call and requested that we pay a visit to the haram together to pray Magribh and Esha. We met with his family and we left for the haram. As usual, there was a lot of tension between his mother and wife.

A chord was struck in my heart

Somehow, I lost Q and everyone else. I met one of the One Call boys, brother Samaad. In between prayers and reading Quran. Brother Samaad, explained how he got in to the deen. His experience was after his father passed away, he became very strict with his prayers. One story that stuck with me, was how he attempts to be the best muslim possible in order for him to take his parents to Jannah. I pondered all night on this matter and wished to do the same for both my parents. You never know what Allah (SWT) has planned for you or your parents, so it’s crucial that we uphold ourselves in the best possible way in front our maker

*Brother Samaad was an endearing brother. Something drew me towards him and I was blessed to have this conversation with him. May Allah (SWT) reward the brother, make him successful in the hereafter.

A Pakistani brother was watching me during my time with Samaad. Curiosity got the better of him (as is the case). He decided to ask me where am from, so I politely answered that am from the UK, I knew where this conversation was going, so a smile crept up on my face. The brother poked on the question further about my ethnicity, till he was satisfied with my response, am of Bangldeshi/Pakistani origins. The brother was amazed and enquired further which town/village she was from. Upon my response, things quickly escalated, he wanted to meet my mother, and he wouldn’t stop bothering me about it. Considering the fruitful conversation that I was engaged in, it was evident to Samaad that I was visibly irritated by the brother’s harassment. He politely intervened and the brother got the message. The question is, why on earth why would I introduce my mother to a total of stranger?

Day 8 (14 August 2018)

Our last full day at the Swissotel. Myself and mum were discussing how sad it was going to be knowing that we were going to be losing one of the most breath-taking views in the world. After mulling over our sadness, we decided to get ready for Fajr. Fajr, completed as usual with another wave of people joining the millions that were already here.

Breakfast- me and mum have decided our plan of action. Buy quick so we have as much time as possible for Ibadah. Between Zuhr and Asr we shopped. I bought a couple of prayer mats and a couple of gifts from the mall.

I realized street shops we charging extortionate prices for basic items so I decided that it was better to get extorted by the malls within the hotel. We bought loads of prayer mats and gifts. Only the Ouds left now.

Maneuvering around the Haram had become increasingly difficult by each given day since we arrived. We made our way back to the hotel after a spot a of lunch at Mcdonald’s. Considering the fascination of the Big Mac in the U.K, it only made sense to order one. We struggled to find any seats so we were content with the floor. Good thing about mum, she’s not your typical women in that sense, she is happy to sit anywhere.

Finally, we made our way to the hotel and at the reception, where there was a swarm of people gathered around a table. From far, two Pakistani flags were being waved around. As I approached the crowd, people were gathered around two massive cakes canvassed with the Pakistan flags printed on the white smooth Icing layer. The cake was huge a huge square, am sure it could have fed 300 to 400 people.

I was shocked that a country that has a total disregard for its Pakistani migrant workers, are somehow embracing Pakistani independence. Extremely hypocritical in my personal observation.

Magrib and Esha was prayed with the usual suspects. We managed to get a tawaf in between both salah’s. Myself and Q decided that we should go for a night stroll and grab a cup of tea once we packed our luggage. We were knackered but a much-needed tea was required.

How are plans went to flames?

I think women have this intuition that men are up to something. Khalida (Q’s wife) decided that Q’s should fill up at 25 bottles of Zam Zam. Don’t get me wrong. I support the idea that you should drink as much Zam-Zam as possible. But am not sure how much man hours would be spent filling up the bottles, and the thought of carrying them back, lets not start on that. I feel like Q’s wife on a personal retribution mission . To be fair he never complained but torture was written all over his face.

*My respect for Q had scaled to new heights. I respect people who have the ability to recognize their fault’s and act on rectifying them. Am not going bog to you down with his problems. Without the marriage aspect of things there are many similarities between myself and Q. I think that’s why we connected so well.

*At 11:10pm- Q had broken the news to me of his new diverted trip to collect Zam Zam. A What’s App Message was sent on the group that our luggage could be messed up in transit, as there were up to four or five other groups that would be departing at the same time. We changed our plans very quickly and made a dash to find our luggage. My luggage had still not been collected, however, we went on a wild goose chase looking for Q’s luggage for an hour. After frantically looking for his luggage, up and down 17 flights of floors for an hour, we managed to locate his luggage, Khalida had taken them in in to her room.

Day over…..tommorow, Aziziyah.