The Holy Kaaba

If Islam teaches us patience, I saw it exploding every time I was pushed out of the way. If Islam teaches brotherhood, I crushed it along another three thousand people when I walked over the dead. If Haram-e-Kabbah is the holiest place on earth, I was harassed over there.

Even though my mind had stopped registering things, I knew that the person lying in front of me was dead and the guy behind me, telling me to walk over him had lost his mind. How could I walk over the dead?

The next second I fell on the dead guy. A chill ran through my hands and traveled my entire body. Someone behind me yelled and told me to get up and just walk over the guy.

I walked over him.

It was suffocating.

I wanted to go back home to my mother.

I heard someone saying that if you die here you will be a martyr.

I did not want to be a martyr.

The temperature was well above 35 degrees Celsius. There were four thousand people walking over each other to save their life.

I was never scared of death, but right there and then I did not want to die. I did not even want to walk over someone who was still alive and kill him. I had come here looking to cleanse my soul and not to taint my conscience with murder.

The minute I walked over that guy I lost count of the dead bodies I walked over. For the first fifty of them, I think, I made sure that I don’t step on anyone’s head, heart or neck. After that I could not even look down. For five minutes my feet did not touch ground. I was being pushed over people who like all of us wanted to survive but could not. I was afraid that the only part of me to get out of this stampede would be my arm. After falling another two times I was finally pulled out by an African, who dragged me out.

Around 700 people were killed in Minna, Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, during Rummi, stoning the Satan. I could have easily been one of them. Who was to be blamed? The officials who kept the 

I could not wait to see the Kabbah. I had a list of Duas ready for my first sight of Allah's home on earth. There are no words that can explain the feeling that engulfed me when I saw the Kabbah

crowd waiting in this intense heat so that they could say their prayers? The primitive survival instinct that made men crush men? The mullahs who have divided religion into so many sects; one claiming that the Satan can be stoned at any time during the day, the rest announcing noon to be the blessed hour? Or as someone in my group later said that it was all Satans’ doing as he can not see Muslims following the right path.

More than half of the people asked why I wanted to perform Hajj at such an early age. I recall a friend saying; “But I don’t think you have done anything that drastic that you have to perform Hajj to clean your sins.” All I kept telling everyone was that I am going there for my peace of mind; one thing that was messed up even more.

Claustrophobia struck me with full force the minute I landed in Jeddah. The heat and the filthiness of the Hajj terminal fused my mind. But soon the excitement of being amongst a sea of people from all over the world, the idea of seeking holiness and purity took over.

I could not wait to see the Kabbah. I had a list of Duas ready for my first sight of Allah's home on earth. There are no words that can explain the feeling that engulfed me when I saw the Kabbah. I thought: Allah, this is where I want to be. Though the feeling was short lived, as just while I was praying with all my heart an elbow hit me hard in my ribs and I was thrown on my uncle standing ahead of me. I felt like I was in the football ground in school and not at the most holy place for Muslims on earth. I could not figure out why that person was in such a hurry; little did I know that this was just the beginning.

I performed my first

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Umra two days before Hajj, which meant that the crowd was at its peak. I could hardly recite any verses or pray as all my attention was focused on not loosing hold of my uncles’ arm and getting lost in this crowd. I was disappointed that I could not concentrate on praying. Even when I was saying Nawafill, all I could think of was that what if someone walks over me.

The government of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia has allocated 3 feet wide and 6 feet long space to each Hajji. The measurements are almost equal to those of a grave. Call it irony or whatever!

The camps in Minna were crowded with Muslims from all over the world. The Islamic brother hood was at its peak when a 100 people had to share the same lavatory and all of them were getting late for Salah. For the first time in my life, for five days, I lived on eight dates and almost three glasses of water each day.

All through Hajj and my entire time spent in both Mecca and Medina I saw people rushing and running, as if they were not here on a religious journey but were running a marathon that had to be won at all costs.

After the stampeding incident in Minna I was sedated for three days and it took me a week to go to Haram again and face the crowd that was still pushing and running all over the place.

After the rush settled down a bit I got to perform Umra twice and at both times it was a lot more serene than before. I felt that finally I was getting closer to the cleanliness and purity I had wanted from this trip. It didn’t take long before I was proven wrong.

My uncle had strongly forbidden me to go anywhere near Hajra-i-Aswad. He was insistent that my claustrophobia would strike again. Being the rebellious person that I am, I 

While in the queue for people waiting to touch the holy stone I felt a hand run over my butt

planned to visit the holy stone myself, after all I was in Allahs’ home on earth and I would be safe. While in the queue for people waiting to touch the holy stone I felt a hand run over my butt. I thought this is just a coincidence as I am jammed against so many people. The next second the hand traveled my entire bum feeling every inch of me.

I was DISGUSTED.

I turned around and saw this brother in Islam standing behind me with a ‘Yeah it was me, what can you do’ smirk on his face. I had traveled from that high spiritual feeling of calmness to disgust so rapidly that all I could manage to say was, ‘Half of my body is touching the holiest place on earth, how can you even touch me!’ A lot of men, being the ‘ever ready for a fight’ kind, grabbed the guy but I was too sickened to wait and watch. For me this was it!

I had gone on Hajj trying to find peace within my heart, to pray to Allah, to strengthen my beliefs that had gone haywire somewhere along the way and to find a sense of holiness that I thought existed.

What I experienced only shattered it all even further.

If Islam teaches us patience, I saw it exploding every time I was pushed out of the way. If Islam teaches brotherhood, I crushed it along another three thousand people when I walked over the dead. If Haram-e-Kabbah is the holiest place on earth, I was harassed over there. If Islam teaches justice and equality then why was an entire block of rest rooms in my camp in Minna allocated to the Bangladeshi ministers’ family?

I don’t know what to believe in anymore because one journey that I thought would have some answers, only gave me more disturbing questions.

It took me five months to speak about it. The nightmares still haunt me!

	After the stampede in Minna

Weirdly wired.