Dusun Kendong

Life is a bit boring without my diana F. We used to share the same heightened excitement whenever we went out.
Now its just me and my second-hand converse wallet, and keys. And lipbalm.
Last weekend I went to visit my granfathers, both whom are not doing so well. Its a sad circumstance to have to justify.
'Exhibit A is suffering because..so and so..' and then we'd have to compare it with 'Exhibit B shows signs of ageing and has loss the ability to..etc etc..'
It was a purely sad moment for me. But to dwell so deep into it would only drain me of my mental strength.
I had a long way back to travel. And then to deal with the fact that f's mom will be going for Hajj this year has also put a MAJOR dent on my planning.

Kendong is beautiful. The trees are wild and grew out of every nook and cranny. The grass high and tall, hiding secrets between the dense layers.
I took atok's bike for a spin. The tyres are flat. The house is on a hill that is impossible to cycle up with a set of flat tyres.

The kids in the football field were cheering us up the hill. I had sweat trickling down my neck and back. My face plastered with a permanent smile. I felt like a kid again.

Mama is back

With her presence, the house is obviously more well kept.
Dust mites at bay.
Everything in the house has returned to its safe-to-eat state.
Water jugs kept brim full ready to pour. Tea, for breakfast perhaps?

The house is alive again, because the heart is put back right where it belongs.
This time around, there is something noticeably different.

'Mama sakit-sakit badan la kemas rumah..' she has aged. Beautifully so.

Makkah al-Mukarramah

It is said in the traditions, “ Circumambulate this House frequently before it is removed, for it has been destroyed on two occasions and on the third occasion will be removed.” And it is related with the authority of Ali, may God be pleased with him, that the Prophet (s.a.w) said, “ God most High said, ‘If I intend to destroy the world I would begin with My House; first I would destroy it and then I would destroy the world after it’.”

Source : Al-Ghazali, The Secrets of Pilgrimage.

Hajar Aswad (Black Stone)

And in another tradition, “ The Black Stone is one of the jewels of Paradise; it will be raised on the Day of Resurrection with eyes and with a tongue with which to speak, bearing witness on behalf of all those who have kissed it in truth and sincerity, and the Prophet (s.a.w) used to kiss it frequently.” It is reported that the Prophet (s.a.w) used to circumambulate it riding on a camel, and would touch it with a stick and then kiss the end of the stick.”

Umar once kissed it and then said, “ I know you are just a stone in which there is neither harm nor benefit. If I had not seen the Messenger of God (s.a.w) kiss you I would never have kissed you.”

***

Masjidil Haram, Jan 2010.

I do not have a picture of the Black Stone itself. But I did get to kiss it. Once. Mama told me that the guard on duty was lazy that day, else we would have had a smoother experience kissing the Black Stone. He should have cut the men from hoarding towards the Black Stone and let the Nisa’ take turns kissing it. But instead, their ihram would get caught in the crowd and they would have a hard time trying to move away from the crowd. Some greedy men would want to kiss it twice, or even three times. I don’t believe that God will tally on how many times you kissed it, even though the Prophet (s.a.w) himself kissed it many times. How many years ago was that? They probably did not have as many – or as rude, a crowd as they do now. Who am I to pass judgement. Just my thoughts on the act of kissing the Black Stone. Maybe we humans are so physical. We need to literally do it (many times), to know that we have physically done something to let God know that we are pure at heart.

I read in the Umrah guide book that it was sufficient for us to wave our hand to the Black Stone and kiss it, for fear of endangering ourselves in the crowd if we tried to approach the Black Stone and really kiss it.

My brother did not get to kiss it, it was a harder and more painful experience for him as his foot was stepped on many times and he could not contain his frustration thus left the crowd only to have his ihram tied up somewhere in between the sea of bodies.

Source : Al-Ghazali, The Secrets of Pilgrimage.