I am on the bus to Petra traversing the Kings Highway; it is also called Tareeq al Mulook. It is the hike taken by Musa (AS), his wife from Midyan and his brother Haroon (AS).
The Wadi Musa is wild, harsh and unforgiving in its terrain and the upward slope makes you catch your breath making it difficult to breathe sometimes with the altitude rarefaction of air.
Musa (AS) is described by Prophet Muhammad pbuh as tall, and lank with dark straight hair. I feel his energy in the sprawling vista of the Wadi as we ascend (in the bus) towards Petra. The ruins of which are those of Thamud or some such civilization that disobeyed Allah Subhanawataala consistently and continuously despite warnings.
I look down at the narrow ribbons of the paths meandering through the mountains and I remember that his gentle brother Haroon beside him is ailing, or exhausted there is no indication in history as to which. However we know that Haroon (AS) journey with Musa (AS) came to an end somewhere here.
Far away in the lap of the mountains is a small white cap of a building. The guide points out the last resting place of Haroon (AS) where a white domed mosque has been built. I ask if we can go there. “It is difficult to get to,” replies the guide.
I envision Musa (AS) left without the spiritual and emotional support of his gentle brother, but trudges on towards Palestine,……………………. never to enter it.
It is truly hard to be a Prophet. Perhaps Allah Subhanawataala chooses people based on their strength both spiritual and physical.
I recall the manner in which Musa (AS) asks Allah Subhanawataala to send his brother with him………..pouring out of the pages of the Quran and Allah Subhanawataala’s words; I feel the love, affection and brotherly support of one for the other reciprocated both ways.
As I think of Musa (AS) request to Allah Subhanawataala about Haroon………. I miss Haroon my brother who left us too, buried in the hubbub of Karachi instead of on the top of a peaceful mountain.
Though I have not been back to Pakistan since his passing away, I at times intensely miss his gentleness. Sometimes I feel it like a cool hand on my fevered forehead like a passing breeze.
May Allah Subhanawataala give him peace and salvation.