In the name of Allah most gracious most merciful.
6 September 2014.
I love going to the airport. The marketplace of salaams, of
goodbyes and hellos and farewells. I love going to the airport to see planes
take off and land, going somewhere, going nowhere. People are on their way or
coming home or a bit in limbo to the next flight. There is that sense of
lightness waiting to board the bus, boarding pass in hand, the nimbleness in
one’s step as you crane your head for that familiar face that was missed so, so
much. The relief in one’s eye after the patient waiting (because the plane is
late) that transforms into a wide smile and warm embrace. And then there’s that
air about travellers – a business-like hurry, a quick smile and comfortableness
with trolleys, anonymous in a sea of strangers. . Aah I love going to
the airport - a place of such mixed emotions.
Especially so when we see off hujjaj, being sad yet joyful
for their journey ahead. Feeling tender towards them leaving as they give that
last glimpse back at loved ones and march forward with Biesmillaah, bag perched
on their shoulder, musallah over the arm and sibgah in hand. I remember my late
father in law as he bid us farewell. I leaned over for his soft message, he
gripped my face between his hands and told me not to look back, that our
children were in Allah’s hands now and not to forget his salaams to our Beloved
Rasululah SAW. Then he slipped his white handkerchief in my hands to wipe my
nose. Little were we to know that the next day he would meet his Maker, and
Allah knows best.
Ja, bittersweet memories of airports, but it still fills us
with excitement. In Johannesburg we would go to the airport during hujjaj
season and stay there for the day. A myriad of people all with the same
purpose. Seeing old friends and
relatives having a last cup of tea (OK not a cup a container) and listening to
when their journeys started and what inspired them. Sometimes I am awestruck at
the deep sincerity that surfaces and the Nur on the faces of pilgrims and the
stories, amazing. I met a woman traveling in the company of a group who had for
ten years saved her money selling koeksisters for hajj and then her husband
passed. I met old people who have waited and waited for years to go and young
people who just put everything on hold, because this was a debt to Allah. Subhanallah.
Old and young, beautiful in their tranquillity a far- off
look already in their eyes. And then they are in the queue and they wave with
bright eyes and they are off on their illustrious journey physically and
spiritually, a moment of serenity that we are honoured to share Alhamdulillah.
And my heart starts to Labaik – Oh Allah here I am, and a sob sit rights there
but I do not let it out, a final ‘Fee Amaanillah’ and they’re off.
Oh Allah, guide the
hujjaj and welcome them as specially as we were welcomed and afford for them
beautiful lasting moments filled with Nur upon Nur, such as that first sip of
zam zam, that first salaah on the Sufah; that first delightful smell of attar
when they stand at the kabr of Rasululah SAW, that first bite into a sweet dark
date, the first donning of Ihraam; the
first Labaik that their lips utter and their hearts echo; that first glimpse of
the Ka’abah – silent as a pupa; that first footsteps of tawaaf; the first
raka’ahs in the Hijr Ismail and at the Maqam Ebrahim; those first steps between
Saffa and Marwa. Oh Allah hold the hujjaj in Thine proverbial hand so that they
can perform all of their manaasik and have time and opportunity for nawafil and
goodness. And Oh Allah allow their hajj be an anchor for their lives forever, as
they step gently towards Thee, inshaAllah.
Later.
Grow food and spend time at the airport.
Yasmine
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