It was the second most difficult tawaf that I performed in the last ten days of Ramadan. As it was to be a gift it seemed to have been predetermined that I was to work harder to earn the blessings and reward:
I can feel the heat of the sun even though it is around threeish, we just finished asr prayer and I am rushing downstairs to perform tawaf. I am in a state of urgency as I have just discovered that one can perform tawaf and transfer the rewards of the blessings to a loved one who is living. My impression had been that it could only be done for the dead. This spurs me on to perform a tawaf as a gift I have wanted to give to someone for a long time but did not know how to.
As I take the back stairs from the second floor where we are in Itikaaf in the women’s section to the Kaaba, I have the company of a crowd who is going in the same direction. Descending the stairs to the Babe Umrah, we spill out into the courtyard with what seems like a million other people who have the same intention as I. I melt into the crowd going in the direction of the Hajre Aswad where the Tawaf begins and I start preparing my niyyah.
I wonder what am I going to say? It is almost an excruciatingly personal dialogue, both with me, the person I am dedicating this to and to my Lord. I am going to verbalize what I have not even said aloud to myself, it is a moment of submission, the stripping off of another layer of superficialities, of buried grievances, hidden doubts, shrouded desires, and unspoken wants, and wells of regret and resentment which need to be filled with the zam zam of forgiveness. It is going to be a major effort to erase the what ifs….from my vocabulary, and eventually remove the ghosts from the corridors of my mind.
Lost in my thoughts, I move like a musician moves her fingers in a symphony finding her place in the orchestra and the lines on the score. I am now looking down at the marble floor at my feet as I walk. Searching where the tiles become narrow which will indicate that I am at the Hajre Aswad and I can begin my Tawaf. Looking down I approach the tiles as they narrow, I look up, the green light is to my right and the Hajr e Aswad seems far away and to my left, you always keep your heart towards the Kaaba as you perform tawaf to keep it connected with Him. As if in a surreal movie, I see the men in Ihram around me raise their arms to give the salutation, I am ready, I make my niyyah, this is for him I say to my Lord, he knows who I am talking about. I give my salutations and start my glide, through the crowd. This is a sophisticated crowd of worshippers, there feet speak to the pavement, they have a relationship with this courtyard, they have walked this path every Ramadan for the past ten, fifteen and sometimes twenty years, I am the rookie, and yet I feel like a seasoned worshipper, I feel the avenues open, the lines of communication fall in place and the static of the world stops as I connect with my Lord.
I am aware of the intense heat and the rivulets of sweat snaking down my back, “we are sweating our sins off” I recall Victoria remarking and I smile. As I walk my mind and heart focusing on what I need to do and say, the surroundings recede into the mist of the heat, I have all the time in the world. I am in a silent movie, where He is listening to me and me alone, for some reason I have His ear, and his indulgent undivided, unhurried attention.
I organize my prayers for the seven circles. The first of the seven circles of the tawaf is divided in thirds. The first third is my submission to my Lord, I accept his supremacy, His perfection, His power over all things and I praise Him. The second third of the circle is my istighfaar, for all I have done, for all I may do and for all that I have the ability to do and asking Him to prevent my doing so. This follows my plea for forgiveness. I am astounded at my confidence in asking Him to not only forgive all my past mistakes but to prevent any more absolutely no more mistakes! I feel He is looking down on me indulgently, I hesitate, perhaps that is too much to ask on the first go, but I am reminded that He can do anything, anytime and his forgiveness is boundless. All this seems trite in writing, but at this moment the channels are open and I am in conversation with Him, more like a soliloquy, which starts off in earnest after I complete my second third of the circle and my Istighfaar, I then ask and I ask and I ask. For him and for me and for us and for our children both alive and dead. I ask for his happiness, his health, peace and comfort in his heart and emaan.
I have always wondered what do you give a man who has everything in the world and what he really needs you cannot give him. I cannot give him peace in his heart, the love of his dead son, the well spring of emaan that brings sabr and shukr and submission to Allah, and take the tears out of his eyes and give him joy in the Hereafter. How does one give these as a gift? I do not have the power to award these to him.
I start on my second circle I am now even further away from the Kaaba which means the circle is going to be bigger in circumference and the tawaf will be longer, but it does not deter me. It gives me more time to pray, to ask for forgiveness, for love, for peace, for harmony and emaan and so many other things which seem an impossibility in my day to day life and his.
As I ask Him for His bounties, my hesitations and self recriminations fall to the way side, my petty desires, my own wants and needs take a back seat, this tawaf is for him, I focus on his needs, his desires, his armaan, his wants and his prayers………..and while doing so for a split moment the fear of being replaced enters my mind, a waswasa of the shaitan, what if he is happy without you someone whispers in my ear, and I pause, what if……. I think? Only the good Lord knows what will make him happy, if being without me is what will make him happy so be it. I think, it is perhaps the most unselfish prayer I have made for him. I pray for our daughter may she be the coolness of his eyes and mine. I pray that we meet our son in Jannat al Firdous along with our daughter, and I move on to the next circle making my salutations each time I approach the Hajre Aswad.
Thirty years of love, passion, fun and frolic, beautiful children, trials and tribulations, loss and sadness, all fall from my lips as prayers, of thankfulness for his naimah and forgiveness for our mistakes and supplications for the best for our future both in this world and the next.
As the swirls of heated mist rise from the base of the Kaaba and ascend, I feel my prayers being lifted up to His throne by the angels. The heat is like a palpable entity separating me from the other pilgrims, cocooning me in this midday sun, opening up the personal passages of communication with Him, I am now talking to Him, conversing, telling him of our difficulties, our sadnesses, our grief, thanking him for the naimahs the blessings He has continued to give us in this world, asking Him to vouchsafe the best for the Hereafter. The salute to the Hajre Aswad and the rukne Yemeni, are like punctuations in my rambling prayer which go on and on.
In the last circle, after the rukne Yemeni I raise my hand to say Rabana atayne fid dunya…. and suddenly the face of Imran’s father rises in front of me, sad, disheartened, his eyes without hope, I pray for him, for peace in his heart and the best in this world and the Hereafter. I dedicate the rest of the circle to the Augusta community asking Him to give us the best in this world and in the Hereafter.
I am now completing the final circle, the seventh, the sky is pink, which means that Maghrib is close, I have been in tawaf for a long time, and yet I feel light of heart, though drenched in sweat, my tawaf booties which have prevented me from getting blisters feel tight, perhaps my feet have swollen. I think of our Prophet sallallahy alayhe wasallam standing in Qiyam al Layl so long that his feet swelled, I guess I have earned a sunnah. The physical discomforts fade as I give my final dua and ask Allah to give the reward of this tawaf along with all the prayers to the sweet heart of my youth, my companion of thirty years.
I melt out of the crowd as I had melted in, unnoticed and unhampered to pray in front of the Muqaam e Ibrahim, my heart confident that my gift has been accepted by Him to be awarded to my requested recipient when He so deems fit. Ameen.
