Umrah

I have been so busy ever since I returned. But now, I have cleared most of my tasks and have a bit time to write.

And I have sooo many, many things to share about my journey. Every single thing that happened I want to blog about. Tapi… macam dah lama tersimpan and some have started to slip away. Shame.

Anyway, it is quite hard to write about my Umrah trip actually…because there were sooo many things that happened. I have been thinking for quite a bit before I drift off to sleep every night the best way to capture everything here, but couldn't quite get an idea how.

So now, I have decided that I am just going to write about everything that came to mind. It will be jumbled up, mind you so look away if you have pening-pening lalat tendencies, eh ?

The thing that came to my mind about now is Adik. She had been wonderful. Aku bersyukur sangat aku hantar dia masuk sekolah Integrasi Agama because she was at ease with us being in the mosques day in and day out. No complaints, no tantrums. She prayed, apa saja sembahyang sunat yang ada she will do and whatever she didn’t know it was so easy to teach her, she mengaji Quran and when she was done with that she took the initiative to do hafazan, she dzikired with her brand new spanking tasbih, she slept when she was tired, she socialized with the other kids … basically, she was no bother at all.

There was only one day saja dia menangis and that was when she slept in between Maghrib and Isyak. Sememangnya she had always woken up on the wrong side of the bed… just like bapak eh. Therefore I swiftly posted her to the bapak eh to handle.

The best thing was, she was so much loved. The Arabs are crazy over kids because she always came back to the hotel with food. Sweets, kurmas, pretzels, drinks, chocolates… anything that anybody has, will always be extended to her.

Not to mention on the amount of cuddlings and kisses she got ! There were always people who stopped her for a hug or touched her face with awe and love, saying “Masya-Allah !” over and over again and murmurings in exotic languages.

Even the stern female guards at the doors of Masjid Nabawi were kind to her. They stopped their yellings of “Ibu ! Ibu ! Ibu ! Periksa ! Periksa ! Periksa ! Hajjah ! Hajjah !” and whatnots to hug her, or smile kindly and say, “Masya-Allah!” in the softest of tones, or just chucking her chin ! At first we were confused and she herself was scared because not a second ago they were yelling but after awhile we got used to it.

Such a wonder.

The guards at Masjidil Haram were much, much kinder so when they stopped her for a hug we were not that bothered. They even smiled at me while they checked my bag… Hahah…

Apart from that, the other jemaahs would always ask if she was mine. One man asked me, “Malaysia ?” and when I said yes, he pointed to my daughter and asked with crinkled forehead, “Pakistan ?”. I answered with, “Mine !”

Once while we waited for Isyak, a Turkish lady asked me, “Children ? Children ?” while gesturing at me and my daughter. I said, “Yes, of course !” and she frowned.

And when it happened again, another lady who said, “You China ? She Pakistan ?” and all her friends looked at us with curiosity, I answered with, “Papa Pakistan…” and they went, “Oohh………….”

Selamat. Satgi depa kata aku kidnap anak Pakistan mana, mampuih aku.

Tapi budak ni lah pulak menjerit, "Ha ? Abah Pakistan ?" Hissh !!!

There was one time in Masjidil Haram, she was reading surah Yassin softly. A lady behind her scooted nearer to hear her read. The lady then said something we couldn’t understand but my mom suggested that maybe she wanted Adik to read the verses louder, so she did. The lady then alerted her friends and they all kurumun-ed her, listening to her read in wonder. They shook their heads and listened until she was done. Of course there were rounds of kisses for her !

When a jemaah gave her 10 Riyal, she donated it to the street children.

And she was always, always very concerned about the illegal peddlers that littered the streets of Madinah and Makkah. On our first day in Madinah, our very first trip to Masjid Nabawi, while feeling the euphoria and excitement to enter the mosque, our eyes busy drinking in the scenery, out of the blue there were sirens and mayhem ensued. We suddenly found ourselves trapped in the middle of escaping peddlers and the policemen who chased them. It was chaotic and funny.

However, the very next day when they were back, Adik frowned at them and worriedly pointing them to me. “They are still here …” she whispered.

When the same thing happened to the peddlers in Makkah, one of them swung her bundle to her shoulder in flight, and it hit her. Lagilah bertambah tension anak aku.

Heheh... Dugaan, dik.

Something happened to us though, right after Friday prayers. For some reason, they closed one of the manay, many doors of the masjid and cordoned off a section of the compound outside Masjidil Haram. It created a terrible bottleneck and we were all pushed together like sardines. People were pushing and jostling as they fought their way out. I felt so suffocated and was finding it hard to breathe.

I looked at my daughter and she did not look good. She looked like she could collapse any time. I removed her telekung and was fending her from the pushings as much as I could. My mom and I were praying hard for safety and way out of the very, very tight and constricting space.

Suddenly, and oh very suddenly… there was a clearing around Adik. For some reason, nobody was around the perimeter and she could breathe better. Only by the Grace of Allah could that happen. My mother and I was shocked beyond believe. We pushed forward and we finally could make it to a lamp post.

Kamil then called. He was already at the hotel and was oblivious to our plight. He had wanted to come and help but I stopped him because I was worried about Abang. I told him to stay where he is. I told my mom, only Allah could help us now as the pushings have started again.

I tried to carry her, like I used to do when she was smaller but I can't. When did she get too big for me ? I got so desperate that I begged another man to help carry her but he shook his head. He either refused or couldn’t understand me. Terrible. I was in despair.

The lamp post where we sought refuge was encased at the bottom with cement, wider than the pole itself and could be sat on. In fact some men were already sitting on it. We bumped into another jemaah from Malaysia who we were friendly with there and the 3 of us decided to lift Adik up and let her sit on the casing.

We couldn’t. None of us could carry her. I had started to cry when suddenly in front of me, a huge Arab or Turkish lady appeared out of nowhere. Seriously, she just appeared because I was looking right in front of me and she wasn’t there. I blinked and there she was…

Anyway, she straight away plucked my daughter up with one hand and put her on the encasement. Effortlessly, I must add. There were no words exchanged between us but she knew what was wrong and acted. In fact she went right to it. Relief couldn't even describe what I was feeling.

This lady hugged and kissed my daughter, offered her cheese and bread, and while my daughter ate, she caressed her face. We left her to it while we waited for the crowd to ease.

And then... there was Kamil. He materialized in front of me after running to where we were from the hotel and made it there in a minute. He hauled his daughter up in his arms, and made a path for us to pass through.

Sigh.

Thank you, Allah for the help and for the angels you sent.