The Sheer Humanity in Mecca
It’s indescribable, Dyna. Believe me, you have to go there!”
That’s the words I heard from my best friend in college. She was there sitting on the sofa in my living room, telling me her stories of performing Umrah in Mecca and how it profoundly impacted her life. I listened to her attentively even though I started to feel sleepy. The clock on the cream wall showed it was fifteen past eleven. But I could hold on because her stories captivated me. “You know what? When I saw the Ka’bah, I felt like my life was nothing! All the problems we have in life..really…they don’t mean anything…” she slowly shook her head while staring at me.
Why Mecca?
Since I was in madrasa, I was taught that every Muslim must do the five pillars of Islam. First is the shahadah, second is the five daily prayers, third is the zakat, fourth is the Ramadhan fasting, and fifth is the hajj. I could understand the first four. These are all things every Muslim does every day, every year (for Ramadhan), or sometime in their life. But the fifth one? It was something beyond my understanding. While I know the rational explanations for the other four, I never seriously thought about the fifth. It is an obligatory ritual for Muslims who are able physically and financially. The 8-year-old me thought she would never be able to do that because she thought she would never have enough money to get to Mecca, and if she would, “Why would I circumambulate a stone?”
Also, I considered hajj as something impossible for me. To me, it was a kind of ritual that could only be performed by rich Muslims. I watched the television every year when it was time for the annual hajj. I saw lots of humans in white (millions of humans!) circumambulate the Ka’bah counterclockwise. “Labbaikallahumma labbaik,” was the back sound of the hajj news. Sometimes, I also heard terrifying news from the annual Hajj. In the past two decades, thousands of people were trampled to death during the rituals, most of them were old people, trapped between the crowds. I felt sorry and again I was curious. If there’s a chance for us to die in Mecca during hajj, why would people go there?
“I hope one day I could go there,” my mom told me. She is one of the billions of Muslims dreaming of going to see the Ka’bah. Despite the physical hardship, performing the hajj in Mecca might be the most popular dream in the world. It is shared by billions of people across cultures and generations. Paulo Coelho, in his famous novel, The Alchemist, wrote something about this dream in the setting of medieval Andalusia. This might be the same dream found in the heart of a poor farmer in rural Java, either in the 15th century or even now. Across time and space, people imagine the same thing: seeing the Ka’bah. Becoming the guests of Ar Rahman.
My mom finally went to Mecca in 2013. She recalled the story over and over again because she said: “it was miraculous”. Just like what my best friend said. “Once you’re there, you always want to go back,”
Where Millions of Dreams Come True
There I was, walking around the Ka’bah with hundreds of Muslims from all around the world. Men and women. Adults and children. White, black, brown, yellow. All recited “Bismillahi Allahu Akbar” at the beginning of the tawaf. While walking, we all stared at the majestic black cube veiled by black silk with golden ornaments. It’s the image we only saw in our sajadah (praying mat). It is the image we see five times a day. It’s the image we see when we feel overwhelmed with the burdens of our life. It’s the image we see when we try to connect to the Lord of the Worlds. It’s the image touched by our tears in sujud, seeking our Lord’s love and forgiveness. Now, it’s there. It’s becoming alive in front of our eyes.
Truly, on this specific earth’s coordinate, millions of dreams come true. Millions of hopes and expectations ascend to the sky, including mine. I was finally able to visit the Ka’bah to perform umrah at the age of 37. It was two months since I left America where I spent a year-long fellowship at MIT. After reciting some prayers, I circled the Ka’baah while thinking about all of my sins in the past, all the sweetness I had in life, and where I would go in the future. But sometimes, I got distracted, too. A beautiful little girl was looking at me from down below. She was with her parents. She seemed like a child from the Arab world. Her innocent eyes were so crystal clear, looking so curious about me. Maybe it was her first time seeing another person who looked differently from her parents. I smiled at her and tried to say hi. But suddenly, a barricade of men cut came by. I lost sight of the beautiful girl and now those men from South Asia (I suspected) stopped me from moving on. It seemed they had just gone back from their trial touching the Hajar Aswad, a specific part of Ka’baa known for its sacredness.
In this holy place, you surely need to take care of yourself. You have to be careful because no one there knows you as a person. For them, you are only part of their surrounding world and nothing more. Like you too, they are busy thinking about God and their prayers. No one is there to protect you, except Ar Rahman. That’s why, in my first Umrah, my travel agent’s muthawiff ordered us to line up and make a barricade. I was in Jakarta when I first heard the advice, and I asked my husband,
“Why do we have to do such things like kindergarteners?
“Don’t be too arrogant, you’ll see the situation there,”
And indeed, the Ka’baa is the point of the highest human concentrations on earth. The human circles keep moving in. If there’s a disturbance, there’s a chance of chaos. This was what happened in the Hajj tragedies. The last major one (in 2015) took 2400 death tolls, questioning the hajj management by Saudi Arabia. But politics aside, everyone who comes to the House of Ar Rahman should indeed mind their safety. It is where your physical strength, patience, and concentration are tested.
What I got in Haramain
When I continued my tawaf, the police officers actively called all women in Ka’baah area to go out. It was 30 minutes before Maghrib, so the area had to be cleared. I followed the instructions and sat in a space provided for women. I thought I was safe enough to have some relaxation. But another police officer came and said it wasn’t the time yet to open up that space. I went out and followed other people until I got lost. I wanted to ask, but sadly, they all spoke Arabic. In the third floor, I finally met a nice woman officer who could speak English and asked where I could do the maghrib prayer. When she talked to me, a middle-aged woman came by, intruding on our conversation. I wasn’t sure if she wanted to help or what, but she nastily scolded me. “You FOOL! You don’t understand the instructions!!! What an embarrassment!!!” Her loud condescending words struck me like lightning. I rarely got scolded my whole life, so I went back to the same space I visited and started to cry.
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People say you will get what you did in haramain. Perhaps this is the payback for all the scolding I did to my daughters. I felt humiliated, embarrassed, and sinful at the same time. I stared at the carpet. All I could do was cry and cry, asking for forgiveness, until I saw a hand put some kinds of white nuts in the sight. I turned around, and I saw a different middle-aged lady smiled at me. “Thank you so much,” I said. She nodded. I started a conversation with her in English, and I was so grateful she understood it. She was from a place somewhere north of Baghdad, Iraq. It was her fourth time in Mecca, and she had just given me Iraqi pistachios. For me, who doesn’t like peanuts very much, those tasted really good. When I was disappointed by a person, Allah sent me another person who showed me kindness and sincerity. It felt really good for me that this kindness came to me from a place I never knew of. I said thank you again to her and started reciting my favorite surah, Ar Rahman.
The Guests of Ar Rahman
Ar Rahman is the surah recited by my husband on our wedding day. I heard the recitation while I was looking at the reflection of myself in heavy make-up. “Who is it?,” I asked the make-up stylist. But just like me, she had no idea. The recitation continued while the stylist decorated fresh white roses on my hijab. When she had finished, I went up to the wedding hall. There, my husband just put down the microphone. The akad nikah was about to start.
Since then, I have always considered surah Ar Rahman as the symbol of love. Not a romantic love, but beyond that, it’s a powerful divine love. My wedding day is the symbolism of divine providence. Something that God had written before the universe was created. It’s in there, in Lauhul Mahfudz. Like any other point of time in my life, my wedding day affected my life. A man just promised to protect me in dunya and akhirah, giving me a safe space to explore my life. Then, I gave birth to two beautiful daughters, teaching me what it means to be a mother and, most importantly, to be a human. Our marriage also led us to new places and new people who taught us life lessons and kindness. I am so grateful for what Ar Rahman had given to me.
In Mecca, I recited the Qur’an while recalling all those beautiful moments in life. On my right, a lady came closer. She seemed to be trying to look at the Quran while listening to my recitation. After I finished, I looked at her, and she smiled. She had been listening to me the whole time and she gave me Uzbekistan’s dates (or something that looked like dates, hehe). The lady who came with her friends was an Uzbek. She couldn’t understand English but she was eager to communicate. As I understood, she wanted to learn to recite the Qur’an well. I smiled and thanked her for the dates. How wonderful it was to share the beauty of Ar Rahman with fellow Muslimah. People I wouldn’t have met if I didn’t go to Mecca. Sharing feelings of awe does not require language; you need to adjust your “frequency” in the heart. We, humans, communicate in this same frequency regardless of our race. It is the frequency of love and kindness that emanates from Ar Rahman. And in Mecca, we were honored to be His guests.
Which favor of your Lord would deny?
The other day, alhamdulillah I got a special praying spot in front of Ka’baah. I spread my sajadah which I bought from Istanbul and I started reciting the Qur’an. Besides me, a young lady came in. She was alone and looked confused. Perhaps she was looking for her family member. I took my praying mat and spread it horizontally so I could share it with the young lady. She said thank you and I continued reading the Qur’an. Compared with other Indonesians I know (especially my husband), my Qur’an recitation is just so so. But I don’t know why, it was my recitation who always induced a conversation. “What a beautiful recitation,” said the young lady.
Ka’baa is not only the place for the old. Young minds and hearts are filling up the holy mosque too. As I talked to the beautiful young lady, I learned that she is an 18 years old Muslimah from Pakistan. She came there with her family but she got separated along the way. Her parents brought her to Mecca annually since she was a baby, so she could make sure that she had visited Ka’baah for more than ten times, minus the pandemic years. She also told me that she was not very religious but the last time she visited haramain, “I felt peace inside me”.
It was a rare opportunity for me to listen to the youth. So, like a mother or a sister, I listened to her stories. I admired her. She was an intelligent woman with fully charged energy. She told me about her aspirations, about her view on Pakistani politics, about her careful and confident deliberation on which subject she should choose for university, and about how the mazhab difference in Muslim community should not separate the ummah. She also told me about her dreams of purusing education overseas, asking me the most delicate question in the heart of Muslimah: “could we pursue our dreams after nikah?”
“You could, if you get the right husband,” I told her.
“I really hope so,” she said
“Well, we’re in front of the Ka’baah now. Let’s make a wish”
Being in the ka’baah means you are surrounded by like-minded people. Like-minded as in the same state of trying to get closer to God or of finding the right meaning of life. And, as we believe that everything is divine providence, my meeting with the young lady surely brought something to my personal reflection. As I told her about my life, I am grateful that the life I am living right now is actually her dreams. She is dreaming of travelling around the world, getting the best education, and finding a nice supportive husband who could take her to Jannah. I was (and still am) really grateful that I already got what she wanted. For all these, I remember the repeating verse in Ar Rahman, “which favor of your Lord would you deny?”
Going “back home”
I saw my husband’s face among the people. How happy it was to finally meet someone you knew in the middle of the white crowd. After hours of exploring the microcosmos of humanity from both inside and outside me, I finally “come back home”. If you go to Mecca with your spouse, Mecca is truly the most romantic place in the world. This is where you could feel the meaning of being “special”. When thousands or even millions around you don’t care about your existence, you could find one that does. There’s a saying, “From billions of women in the world, I choose you,” Those words become very real when you are physically among those “billions”, or at least the representation of the billions. They can only be found in Mecca.
So, my husband and I hugged each other.
“I have so many things to tell you!”
“Me too!!”
It is true that everyone has their own magical story about Mecca. It is mostly a memorable, life-defining moment. Many people are changed since then, but many aren’t. As I am writing this story down, my Mecca experience was four months behind me. I am still doing mistakes, committing sins, living a life as an imperfect human. But at least, by recalling those moments in Mecca, I hopefully could bring my life stay on track, — -that is to realize that life is an arduous journey like Hajj. It is difficult and tiring, but it should be okay if we have one destination, which is the blessing of Ar Rahman.
Now, I join my friend and my mother, hoping to go back there to Mecca, to perform Hajj sometime in the future.
