The Hajj's Qiblah

Is the Hajj season ever marginalised in your country? I know in Malaysia it falls second to Eidul Fitr, which is celebrated for a month with continuous bingeing. I know that is not right. You should still obseve a healthy diet, especially after that wonderful Ramadhan de-tox - yet Malaysians are seen stuffing their faces at 3 in the morning while watching a football match live from Chelsea.

Anyway, it is also wrong to marginalise Eidul Adha. Hajj commemorates the plight of Prophet Abraham (peace and blessings upon him) and his families during difficult times. It was then when sacrifices to feed the poor was established; the Hajj rituals completed; and where zam zam water was found. All this happened through Prophet Abraham and family (peace upon them) submitting in totality to the Hands of Allah Ta'ala.

Not many of us can do that today. Submit. There are so many distractions that allow us to look away from the Ka'bah - change the Qiblah if you like. Maybe that is why Eidul Adha falls second to Eidul Fitr in some countries.

I had a run in with an old friend a few weeks back. Naturally, you would think we would be delighted to see each other after her brief disappearance. When we were studying together, she was, in my opinion, a wonderful Muslimah. I did not know her well, but I liked her alot and respected her even more.

She was always humble, and popular - everyone had something nice to say about her, especially all the lecturers! She observed hijab strictly and was ALWAYS modest around the opposite gender. She was an excellent student and frequented the prayer room. She kept good relations with everyone. She was also ambitious - and she had high prospects to be extremely successful. After all, she was intelligent, hardworking, devout and had excellent interpersonal skills.

I got to know her better after we graduated and had high hopes for her. She looked forward to a rewarding career and a wedding ring.

Then she disappeared.

I thought she had fallen off the face of the earth. But I learned of her thriving career overseas and her engagement. I was really happy for her. It seemed like everything was falling into place.

And then she returned - a few years later - a few weeks back - wealthier than ever, with one failed marriage.

Naturally I would be delighted to run into an old friend. But my old friend was gone.

It was quite saddening actually. Ok, so I am lying. I was furious! Initially, I was so mad. She was condescending, belittling, a little to inquisitive about my income and then my husband's income. And then our household income. She raised her eyebrows when she found out I had left my career. She did not think much of my children and by the fact that I was running around after them the whole day. She sniggered at the tv which was full of children's channels.

Then she dropped the bomb. She said she did not want to interact with people who were not worth her time or worth the effort for expanding her wealth.

It was horrible - that meeting - it was horrible.

And then it got worse.

I spoke to a mutual friend today and she brought my "old friend" up in our conversation. I found out she's not all that "classy" as she seemed to be after all that assessment on my "modest" lifestyle, as she put it. At least, not around the opposite gender.

I still was not sad enough to feel sad, because for some reason I was still fuming after a few too many condescending remarks about her valuation of our friendship, but our mutual friend threw me a javelin and it hit me in the eye. So I stopped my dramatic monologue about the sanctity of marriage.

"Feel sad," she urged, "she used to be such a nice person. So kind. So 'alim."

After a little chin scratching I realised there was something in my eye. It was not the pointed end of the javelin. That was sharp, and painful. This was liquidy and moist. So I pulled out the javelin and decided that I should feel sad, rather than insulted.

"Hopefully she will change."

I guess it struck me tonight with the Hajj season coming up, that my old friend had changed her Qiblah. There were other things that struck an important chord with her, in her life, in her dunya. The fancy car, men maybe (I still cringe at that thought), her money. Her career.

Hajj is a way of remembering our roots. Where Islam was born and where a pillar of the religion was formed in the barren desert of Makkah. Where a mother ran back and forth, sand sieving through her toes, with no sign of help from passer bys. She had nothing but a wailing baby and alot of faith to keep herself focused in the right direction - her Qiblah. That was the same wailing baby whose ankle struck the sandy surface of the desert, allowing water to spring forth. And when the baby grew up, his father was to obey his Lord's command to sacrifice him, with a sharp knife to his throat. And he willingly accepted his father's dream - to be sacrificed - he even shunned the devil for taunting him with distraction.

So many things happened for Eidul Adha to materialise. Yet the festival is being marginalised by some Muslims. It is a pity, because that is where the Qiblah is formed, and will never change. Like my old friend, who decided to change, just by changing her Qiblah.