Najaf 2015

People find it strange that I came all the way to Najaf to find peace. But no one understands peace till they've been to Najaf. 

We started the day with a 6am departure from Karbala. When I say heart wrenching, I mean soul crushing departure. As you may be aware I'm a little bit obsessed about stories, so I'm going to tell you how this worked. We started by arriving at Masjide Kufa, so baring in mind this is where several ambiya and aimah have prayed and have maqams, including the maqam of Nah (a personal favourite- Prophet and Maqam). So we arrive in dazed sleepy state. We pray all salaam first. It's super hot, yes it's Iraq and its supposed to be hot, but this dessert heat is Makkah all over again! half way through the amaal I casually, as casually as I do anything, pull out a bar of chocolate and pass it around the group. It makes laugh at how in london I can pray without sustenance, but here no matter how much I eat, the emergency stash is required. 

Walking in history, knowing each story, smiling at the past, tears and the salat ul jamaat. So it's announced, this is one of the four sacred masjids of Islam so you can pray full salaa. Makes me chuckle when we're told its recommended to pray full so just do it. It's always nice to have a choice. Prayed full before you judge me. 

So the tears in Masjide Kufa are based on the 19th Ramadhan when my dear Imam is struck in sajda, he is then taken to his house a short walk away from the Masjid. He moves from this world to the next at home. His body is taken. By his two sons and two angels direct them to Najaf, the site here Prophet Nuh - the Prophet with the ark, the one who tell us he had the hardest task of convincing the most difficult people for 900 years, and the father of humanity, Prophet Adam is buried. 

We get to Najaf, and crash, literally crash! We're knocked out from landIng at 3pm till 8pm. Yes even me, I sleep in the day! We awake and here the day I've waited for for months and years. We go to see my beloved Imam. I'm talking the father of 11 imams. The man that was mushkil kusha to so many. There comes a point that you realise the Wah Wah majlis is deserving, yet not enough. If free Muhammed there's a perfect human, it's Ali! 

I arrived at my spot, the golden face. The golden wall and me. I cried like a child in grief. I was in pain. Physical pain where the tears wouldn't stop. The pain wouldn't go. Every part of my soul ached, this is the sight that my soul has shown me at each moment, every pain, every disappointment, every cry, ever earth shattered taunt. This was it. I just stared while my heart poured love through my eyes in a way where it wouldn't stop. I've missed Najaf. The peace the serenity, the calm, the pinnacle, the perfection. That's where I am today and where I wish to stay for all eternity. I've been many places, too many cities, too many homes, nothing compares to Najaf. This is my home. 

Karbala wida 2015

As i sit on the coach towards Najaf. I began the morning feeling satisfied. Almost joyful beyond the tiredness. Bearing in mind. Ziyarah is sleep deprivation to the max! It's like Hajj times a 100! I'm finally going to Najaf. 

So my temperament is that of someone heading towards Masjide Kufa. To see the maqam of Nuh, Idrees, but more than anything to see the house of my beloved Ameerul Momineen, the place where he did justice, ultimately was killed but to walk history. 

When i sit in the coach looking at the dome of the haram of Aba Fadhl i stare. Just stare. Until the coach starts. I turn to see the dome through the back window. As we drive i see it getting further. Now it hits. I'm leaving. I'm leaving without a gaurantee of return. It gets further away and each turn of the wheels is taking me away. We turn and I can't see the dome. I cant see the dome. There's panic in my heart. My insides feel trapped within me. My mouth dry. I want to scream stop. Don't drive I'm not ready. I'll never be ready to leave here. I keep a tasbih of "i'll be back" in my mind but my eyes pour the emotion my soul can't. 

When I'm finally thinking my heart wont explode right here in the this coach, my friend point out the haram one last view. I frantically look. I want one last glimpse. I want to see him one more time. I want my eyes to capture the sight i sit on my musullah at home and thirst, just one last capture. You ever looked everywhere and seen nothing? I felt like i had lost the power of sight. That's the moment I knew love. True, pure love. The kind theres no limit. That's Husayn. That's Karbala. It's amazing how you can spend 6 nights in the company, in the vicinity, with the view, but when you're left with just the "spiritual snapshot" you recognise the value. 

I don't agree with the saying "you dont know what you have till it's gone". You know the value of what you have. You just don't think you'll loose it. That's reality. You're tested with what you love the most. I saw the harams everyday, every night. Last night was different. Last night i felt the harams. It was alive. I felt alive. I'm not leaving without taking them with me. Karbala will not go a ritualistic sacrifice. 

Karbala 2015

I was a little put out at the idea of coming here before seeing Ameerul Momineen in Najaf. That's how I've always seen Iraq. Kadhmain, Samarrah, Najaf, Karbala. I'm here now and I'll tell you it was perfect. 

Everything in life happens the way it doesn't because that's how it's meant to be. 

We walked the final 4km towards Karbala, barefoot. We walked, we talked, we saw, we felt, we watched. Seeing the sunset is a favourite moment. Something you never see in London. So I treasure every element of the myriad of sky shades here. I listened, even made requests. It was different to my last walk, in many ways, but Murtaza Bandali reciting, watching the man that's led my Amal for years, live. I mean live. Was something else. People see fear in your stance here and grab your hand. It's the land where the air breathes Husayn. Not just anywhere. I wasn't alone. No ones alone. They won't let you be alone. Husayn as never lets anyone alone. That's not his style, his way, his persona. 

I say persona, when you arrive in Karbala you will see, feel and understand. It's something words can't comprehend. If words could do justice to the power of Husayn, the feeling of Karbala, I'd be the wrong person to describe it. I'm no one, nothing, insignificant compared to Husayn, Karbala, to what this is. 

I'll be honest I came on this trip to see Abbas. Abbas. My birth right to me is sharing his day. I came to tell the Alamdaar of Husayn's army my issues. My problems. My drama. When I saw his dome, a realisation hit me. He owes me nothing. I was struck by such emotion, that I can only describe as awe. He stands tall till today. No one can take his stance away. The answer to the dua of Imam Ali as. Now I need you to stop and think. The answer, the fulfilment of the dua of Ameerul Momineen. I'm not saying, the answer of any old persons Dua. This is the lion of Allah. Haider. The man the ka'ba split at the seems for. Can you for one moment comprehend who this man is. That's Abbas. Abbas son of Ameerul Momineen. The son of Ummul Baneen. The hope the aas of Zaynab as, and to think you'll see him, feel him, speak to him. Abbas son of Ameerul Momineen. The thing that strikes me most is the love. You never think Abbas, alam without Sakina. She was just a young child. You remember her musical when you see him. You think Husayn, you think Ali, you think Zaynab, Ummul banin, Fatemah Zahra as. Abbas never comes alone. He comes with a arsenal of thoughts. That's who I came to see! 

Kadhimiya 2015

So the 6 hour dreaded drive from Basra to Kadhimiya is complete. Broken sleep, every hour turns and tosses with random discussions about the purpose of life. There's an announcement, at the 11 o clock position there's Imam Kadhimiya and Imam Jawad. If eyes could thirst, if broken hearts could mend, there would have been commotion till the h avens in the coach. When I think back to that moment my hearts emotion could only be captured in one word and that would be Subhanallah. I've dreamt about meeting the Baabul Hawaij since I left in 2013. This world has many joys, many highs and plenty of lows, but Kadhimiya is something else. Seeing those domes, the golden symbol that there's a part of your soul right here. The symbol of hope, peace, faith, love and tranquility all in one moment. I can say it's overwhelming but then in my mind I expected no less. No words can describe that moment, the seconds that turned to minutes while I stared and let the spiritual snapshot mark my soul for all of eternity. 

Imam Kadhim as reminds me of my brother as that's his name. Kadhim means to swallow anger. It makes me smile and cry at the thought of the Imams name being the personification of my brother. Missing you bhaijaan. The only thing that strikes me about Imam Kadhim as is calmness. You can go to Kadhimiya with ever intention to walk in and make demands but it doesn't work likethat is all I'll say. He makes everything seem minuscule, minute or even insignificant. All you want to do is pour your hearts vows out in a corner. 

Imam Jawa as is one person who fills my heart with hope. Not just any hope hope for humanity, hope for peace, hope for the aakhira. He's known as generous and I don't mean the giving gifts kind. I mean the even after only living till 25 he provides every single person with the hope that need. 

I've realised something about life on this trip no matter how much people have and how much they lack. People come to Kadhimiya with a burdened soul and leave free. Empty. Yet full to the brim. Knowing everything is handled. It's all managed, dealt with. I'm not just saying how I feel I'm telling you what all around me say, show and feel. 

I told them, everything, everything everything. No secrets no satarul Ayub. After all I'm not Allah. I'm only human. I off loaded it all. I left everything in their hands. Nothing for me anymore. 

Starting with Kadhimiya is always the way forward.