On Turkey

One of our prominent ulema in North America once recommended that Muslims throughout the world make it a habit to patronize Islamic countries during their vacations (as opposed to other places people tend to visit, such as Europe and the States).   The idea behind this sentiment, I suppose, is to help other Islamic countries economically, but also to allow us to explore various Muslim cultures throughout the world in a spirit of cooperation and understanding.  With these thoughts in mind, in choosing a suitable vacation destination, my wife and I very easily decided that we would like to spend a week exploring Turkey.  

I left for Turkey without knowing or expecting much – I had a childhood friend whose family was from Turkey, but I really knew little about Turkish history, language or culture (in hindsight, this is a good thing, because when you expect little/nothing, you always end up being pleasantly surprised).   What follows are some brief observations from the trip that I would like to share.

Religion and Culture

The Turkish people’s understanding and expression of their religious identity is interesting, to say the least! 

First, despite being founded by a staunchly secular and in some ways anti-Muslim leader (Ataturk), Turkey is a Muslim country through and through, and visible signs of religion are present throughout the country.   Wherever we went in Turkey (even the touristy Westernized areas), we saw loads of women in hijab – and often, conservative hijab (in addition to the headscarf, loose body-length coats).  Similarly, there are mosques EVERYWHERE, on every street corner.  Many of the mosques are actually quite old (built during the Ottoman period) and have been renovated over time, but are still used by worshippers.  For us, it was beautiful to be able to hear the azaan five-times a day, and to hop into a nearby mosque for prayer instead of having to find a private area to pray.  Muslim mannerisms are also present, as people regularly greet each other with salaam and maintain a respectable distance between genders.  Of course, halaal food is available everywhere, and it is quite delicious!

Despite this, Turkey’s religious identity has some interesting contradictions.  For one, alcohol seemed to be very prevalent (at least in the areas we visited).  Many of the restaurants we saw served alcohol and often had their own bars, etc.  Further, despite the plethora of beautiful and historic mosques, overall, I got the impression that regular prayer was something most people took lightly.  Other than the jumuah prayer, the mosques were often empty around prayer time.   

The latter point led me to thinking about Turkey’s Islamic culture, and our own relationship with religious identity in the US.  In Turkey, Islam seemed to be something very embedded and deeply rooted in the cultural norms of the country.  That is, religious etiquettes were in the people’s blood – their kindness, their generosity, their hospitality, the respectable distance between men and women, etc.  This was true even despite the general lack of importance given to prayer (though the inattentiveness to prayer is not something to condone).  For me, however, this illustrated an important lesson for us in our efforts to establish Islamic identity in the US.  In our efforts, we sometimes focus almost incessantly on minor fiqhi disputes and other times engage in partisan political bickering that has very little relevance to our day to day experience as Muslims.  What I think we need to realize, however, is that our disproportionate attention to these issues often hinders us in our efforts to establish an Islamic community that upholds, values, and sustains religious ethics and etiquettes.  This clicked when I was in Turkey – in Turkey, Islam is not a foreign entity imposed from above using harsh fiqhi rulings.  Rather, Islam is a culture and a way of life that has been slowly inculcated in the norms and etiquettes of people, to the extent that it is now completely embedded in the society and respected by largely everyone (even those who aren’t ostensibly religious).  Thus, for us in the US, I think it behooves us to focus on maintaining Islamic etiquettes and seeking to create an indigenous Islamic culture just as much as we do on following all minute details of fiqh.  Of course, fiqh is also important, because people do need to learn the rules (and the rules often go hand in hand with culture), but I believe the aforementioned approach is more balanced and will create a more sustainable Muslim-American community long term.    

Tourism

Turkey has been the home to numerous diverse civilizations over time, including various ancient civilizations, and more recently, the Romans, the Byzantines (Christian), and the Ottomans (Muslim).  As a result, its image is one of a melting pot of civilizations and cultures (and remarkably, it’s able to market this image despite being 99% Muslim).  Thus, many of the common tourist attractions are not only historical mosques and Ottoman buildings, but very old churches, Roman ruins, etc.  It was nice to see a Muslim country recognize its non-Islamic heritage and how that heritage has influenced its current outlook.

The tourism industry is absolutely booming in Turkey.  In the areas that we visited, Istanbul and Cappadocia, there was just throngs and throngs of tourists from every nook and corner of the world.  For example, we passed by several large groups of hundreds of tourists from China, and we saw loads of visitors from Arab countries.   Likewise, during our own tours, we met couples from Italy, Australia, Dubai, Peru and India. 

I was so impressed by the number and diversity of visitors to Turkey that I did some quick research on this when I returned home.  I found that Turkey currently ranks 6^th worldwide in terms of international tourist arrivals, trailing countries like France, Italy and the US but ahead of countries like Germany, the UK and Russia.  This really got me thinking about how much other Muslim countries could benefit from international tourism if their governments emphasized it.  Countries such as Iran, Afghanistan, etc. have no shortage of natural beauty and their own unique cultures, and I fully believe that they have the resources to accomplish what Turkey has accomplished in terms of tourism.      

The People

Turkish people are some of the kindest people I’ve met.  Despite having most of the amenities of modernity (paved roads, access to clean water/electricity, a stable government infrastructure, widespread internet access), it seems that the Turkish people have (thus far) have not dived head-first in a race to adopt Western cultural norms and etiquettes.  Instead, the people have maintained several distinct aspects of their own culture.  One small example of this is hospitality – whenever you go out shopping in Turkey, be prepared to be offered a cup of hot Turkish tea and sit and chat with the shop owners for some time.  Likewise, if you ever need assistance, people are always willing to go the extra mile to help you with what you need.

Additionally, I noticed a certain level of contentment in the people that is often lacking in the people here in the States.  Here, we’re always told to aim higher, to “be someone,” to achieve something, which can be a damaging mentality in some ways.  Yet, many of the people I met in Turkey seemed genuinely pleased with their lot in life, whether that was as a hotel clerk, a maid, a driver or a shop owner in a bazaar.  Sure, economic pressures still exist and people worry about supporting their families, but this constant state of discontent and an urge to do/achieve more and more just isn’t present.   

 

Likewise, and relatedly, Turkish people seem very cooperative with one another, particularly in the workplace.   In the various shops and businesses we visited, staff members always seemed willing to help one another to do what needed to be done (e.g. make a sale, etc.).  There didn’t seem to be any bickering about job duties.  Despite not making very much in terms of wages, people seemed to be happy to be at work.  In fact, the entire concept of “work” is different there – “work” doesn’t seem to be something very distinct from “home,” as people spend the vast majority of their days at “work,” but not in the sense that we think of it here.  Shops open early (around 9am) and close late (around 9-10pm), often manned by only one or two shopkeepers.  Yet, those shopkeepers work very leisurely throughout the day, having tea regularly, sometimes leaving their shops to chat with friends at nearby shops, even opening and closing their stores at their own whim throughout the day if needed.

In sum, my wife and I loved our visit to the country and took home many fond memories of our time there.  If you or your loved ones have the opportunity to travel abroad in the near future, we definitely recommend that you consider a visit to Turkey.

         

Part VII - Qom

In the Name of the Most High

We're now in Isfahan, and I dearly miss Qom.  As one brother put it, the culture of Qom is truly unique, different from other holy cities such as Karbala, Mecca, and Medina.  Qom, the center of learning in Shi'a Islam, is a fountain of spiritual capital for those fortunate enough to visit it, attracting some for only a few days and others for years upon years of study.  Around the haram of Sayyida Masooma (as), Imam Ridha's sister, one sees throngs of ulema and students of knowledge who are dedicated to purifying themselves.  The entire purpose of living in Qom, in the proximity of Sayyida Masooma (as), is nothing other than attaining self-perfection.  The purpose of studying in the howzah in Qom is nothing other than attaining divine knowledge and, through implementation of that knowledge, attaining Divine Light through which one purifies himself and his surroundings.  Because of this, the environment in Qom is truly spiritual.

Among the many spiritually uplifting things to do in Qom, one can offer prayers behind the accomplished ulema who reside there.  During my visit, alhamdulilah I had the opportunity to pray behind Ayatullah Makarem Shirazi and Ayatullah Zanjani, who lead jamaat prayers everyday in the haram of Sayyida Masooma (as).  A brother and I also visited the offices of Ayatullah Javadi Amoli and were able to pray behind him in the small masjid attached to his office.  Praying behind these exalted personalities was memorable to say the least.  As I listened to their soulful recitation of Qur'anic chapters, I could sense the khushoo in their prayers and the deep concentration with which they humbly uttered praise of Allah (swt).  They were lost in God, and He was lost in them.  Now in Isfahan, praying alone in my hotel room, I feel spiritually deprived and cannot wait to be back in Qom.

During my time in Qom, I also came down with a severe sore throat.  The pain was rather unbearable for a few days; even swallowing food and talking were extremely painful.  After taking antibiotics for a few days, however, I started to feel better.  My inability to speak gave me time to reflect on one of God's greatest blessings: the power of speech.  Like that so many of the faculties that God has bestowed upon us for our growth and perfection, speech can and is often used for the wrong reasons.  Many of us use it to backbite, slander, spread gossip and rumors, make mischief, and commit other sins.  What if, instead, we restricted using our vocal cords to that which was necessary, to do dhikr of Allah (swt), and to enjoin the good and forbid the evil?  Perhaps Allah (swt) had put me in this situation to help me reflect on the purpose of speech, and to make me more grateful for it.  As is the case with many blessings, I didn't realize the extent to which the ability to utter words, construct sentences, and communicate with others was a blessing until it was temporarily taken from me.

Aside from Sayyida Masooma's (as) beautiful haram, the brotherhood in Qom is truly remarkable.  Allah (swt) tells us in The Holy Qur'an to vie with one another to do good deeds, and it seems that the people in Qom truly embody this principle.  One family in Qom let us stay as guests in their home for eight days.  Two other families invited us over for dinner.  Two other brothers met with me separately to share their experiences in the howzah in Qom and insisted on paying for my meal since I was a zaair.  While I had the sore throat, a sister threw together some homemade soup for me.  Everyone in Qom, it seemed, made an extra effort to ensure that our needs were met and that we were comfortable.

Now, I write from my hotel room in Isfahan with a certain heaviness in my heart, yearning to be back in Qom and the other holy cities.  I long to be back in the spiritual presence of the Chosen Guides for mankind, the Most Noble Messenger and his Purified Household, love of and devotion to whom lead the imperfect created to their perfect Creator.

Masjid Jamkaran; constructed on the orders of Imam Mahdi (as)

Shrine of Sayyida Masooma (as)

Part VI - Mashhad

In the Name of the Most High

Although it took a few days to get used to Mashhad, the last few days in the city have been simply beautiful.  On Thursday, we went for a large Du'a Kumayl program in an area of Imam Ridha's (as) shrine called Rivaaq-e-Imam Khomeini.  The reciter sat on a stage in front of thousands of people and recited the du'a with zeal and passion, interspersing between lines of the du'a his own commentary about the heat of the fire on the Day of Judgment.  As one proverb states, what comes from the heart, goes to the heart; the reciter's powerful, heart-shaking recitation and pleas to the audience to repent for our sins left many in the room weeping over past transgressions, hopeful for God's mercy.  

On Friday, we started our day with jumuah prayers in the haram.  Although there is one joint jumuah prayer in the entire haram, each of the various courtyards in the haram is packed with hundreds of worshipers who listen to the khutbah simultaneously via loudspeaker.  Although I couldn't understand much of the khutbah, out of the thousands of pilgrims at the shrine at the time, I ended up randomly sitting next to a brother from the UK who was also on a ziyarat trip with his family.  As it turned out, we had mutual friends back in the US. 

Afterwards, we were invited over to Bani Hashimi's home for dinner.  The meal -- chelo kabob and rice -- was excellent, as were the various topics of discussion, including Islamic government, the ancestry of President Obama, our professions, etc.  After lunch, as per Iranian tradition, Bani Hashimi told me that he was going to take a nap, brought out a pillow and blanket for himself, and then handed me a pillow and blanket.  Not used to sleeping at the time, but without much choice, I laid down, tucked myself under the blanket, and closed my eyes.  A few hours later I woke up, and Bani Hashimi and I went out to a masjid in his neighborhood for prayers, about a 10 minute walk away from his home.  Because it was the month of Muharram, prayers were followed by a short majlis and a recitation of ziyarat Ashura.

Later that night, we returned to our hotel near the shrine of Imam Ridha (as).  I realized I didn't have much time left in Mashhad, so I wanted desperately to make a few more heartfelt visits to Imam.  Although it was late, I told my wife I would be heading over to the haram, and asked her if she wanted to join me.  She politely declined, mentioning she was tired.  I was on my own.  As great as marriage and companionship are, there is something special about making ziyarat alone, in the dead of the night, relying solely on God.  This time, I made sure to observe all the etiquettes of ziyarat, including taking a ghusl shower before hand, walking slowly and purposefully to the shrine while reciting dhikr of Allah (swt), wearing nice, clean clothes, putting on ithr, etc.  At the haram, after reciting the idn ad-dukhool and other brief dhikr, I slowly proceeded toward Imam Ridha's (as) zarih.  I knew this night would be one of my last to Imam's haram, and I wanted to make it count.

After reciting the ziyarat of Imam Ridha (as), I found a comfortable spot in the corner of the room where Imam's zarih is located, and I begged.  Recently, I read that there are three main reasons why one's du'a is not accepted: because of one's past sins, because what is asked for is not best, and because it is made without presence of heart.  With this in mind, I began to pray. I prayed for family - for parents and in-laws, aunts, uncles, and cousins.  I prayed for the health and well-being of ulema who had helped guide me throughout life, and for those family and friends who lent a helping hand or a listening ear during difficulty.  I prayed for my marriage.  As I turned to look around me, I saw other pilgrims -- young and old, rich and poor, scholar and layman -- also weeping and making du'a, unloading life's difficulties and challenges onto Imam Ridha (as), asking for some sort of intercession, some sort of divine spark that would lift them out of their misery.  Some had traveled only down the street to be in the haram whereas others had journeyed from afar; yet, in that room, all were in unison, whispering and praying to their Beloved.  

Replica of masjid al-Quds inside Imam Ridha (as) shrine

Large prayer hall where Du'a Kumayl program held

"Golden door" inside Imam Ridha (as) shrine

Large courtyard at entrance of shrine

At restaurant in Mashhad

Part V - Mashhad

In the Name of the Most High

Today is actually our fourth day in Mashhad, and as I write this, people are spilling over me to grab Qur'ans and copies of Mafaatih al-Jinaan.  In the small corner of the shrine I've nestled myself into, people are praying and reading du'a all around me, and the haram of Imam Ridha (as) is bustling with energy.  The atmosphere is absolutely electric.  It's Thursday night at the haram, after maghrib prayers but an hour before Du'a Kumayl, and it seems most of the zaairs of Imam are staying in the haram until Du'a Kumayl begins.

It's taken me a while to write an entry since I arrived here, mostly because Mashhad has been somewhat of an adjustment from Damascus.  First, a tiny fraction of the people here speak English, so language has been more of a barrier.  Also, unlike Syria, where we saw caravans of pilgrims from different countries, here there are very few non-Iranian pilgrims.  Both my wife and I have also had to adjust to the Iranian diet, which consists of regular servings of kabob and rice.  We've also been having our fill of delicious Iranian tea at almost every meal, although having too much of it has left us dehydrated and too tired for meaningful ebaadah at the haram.

Having gotten over the initial adjustment period, though, I'm slowly starting to love Mashhad, Imam Ridha (as), the haram itself, and the people here.  The zaaireen here are truly people in love with and devoted to the holy personality here, Imam Ridha (as).  The haram itself is open 24 hours a day, and the room in which the zarih over Imam Ridha's (as) grave is located is packed with people at every hour, day and night.  It's so crowded that in four days here, I've only managed to touch the zarih twice, and that too with only the tips of my fingers.  The haram is vast and expansive, with many courtyards, rooms, and offices, and at every hour of the day one can see hundreds of pilgrims passing in and out of the various courtyards of the haram.  During prayer time, a large jamaat forms in each of the courtyards.

It's been somewhat of a challenge coping with the massive crowd here and still benefiting spiritually from being in the presence of the Imam.  Knowing that I won't have much of an opportunity to make du'a while clutching the zarih, I've tried to find space in the room in which his zarih is located and to focus instead on connecting with Imam Ridha (as) with my heart and mind.  It is in this room, while tucked away in the corner, with other pilgrims sitting to my sides, in front of, and behind me, and occasionally stepping over me, that I've felt my spiritual connection with the Imam to be strongest.  There is no feeling quite like sitting on the ground, facing the zarih, and reciting the ziyarat of Imam Ridha (as).  Reading the English translation of this ziyarat makes one humbly reflect on and recognize the superb qualities of Imam Ridha (as) and all of the Imams.  As it says in his ziyarat, Imam Ridha (as) was someone who established prayer, paid the poor rate, and enjoined the good and forbid the evil.  His immaculate character itself was a decisive proof for the existence of God, for an individual with such sublime morality could only be the product of a perfect Creator.  In ahadith, it is written that Imam Ridha (as) never stretched his legs out in front of anyone, nor interrupted anyone who was speaking to him, nor neglected to help anyone he was in position to help.

Many of the locals in Mashhad passionately devote themselves to serving and meeting the needs of the zaairs Imam Ridha (as).  They do this with the goal of pleasing Imam Ridha (as) and hopefully earning his intercession on the Day of Judgment.  Although he lives in the U.S., one brother has helped arrange much of our Iran itinerary and coordinated our train tickets and accommodations here.  In the same vein, yesterday we met an older gentleman, Bani Hashimi, whose children and grandchildren also live in Mashhad.  Bani Hashimi is retired now, and in his free time serves as a kaadhim, or volunteer, in Imam Ridha's shrine, where he helps safeguard the shoes of pilgrims while they're inside the shrine.  Before dhuhr prayers yesterday, he gave us a tour of the haram and took us to a basement deep underneath the ground floor of the shrine.  Here, on the ground, we see hundreds upon hundreds of beautiful stone tiles with names engraved on them; Bani Hashimi points out that these are kaadhims who have had the honor of being buried in Imam Ridha's (as) shrine, and that when he dies, he, too, will be buried next to the Imam.

Later in the day, Bani Hashimi picks us up from our hotel and takes our laundry from us; we don't know it at the time, but instead of taking it to a laundromat, his wife will take it upon herself to do our laundry.  Him and his wife then take my wife and I out to show us different parts of Mashhad, since, up until this point, our visit has revolved exclusively around visiting the shrine.  Later, despite our objections, he takes us out to dinner - American food, because we're probably missing it, he reasons - and insists that we come to his house on Friday for lunch so that we can meet his family.  We are not the first zaairs of Imam Ridha (as) that Bani Hashimi has so eagerly and selflessly served, and undoubtedly, we won't be the last either.  Doing the laundry of strangers is an effortless task, it seems, when one is motivated by love for Imam Ridha (as) and desires only proximity to God.  

Enjoying Iranian tea

Outside haram at night

Courtyard inside shrine

Large courtyard at entrance of shrine

Courtyard inside shrine, carpets spread for prayer

Hall inside shrine where Du'a Kumayl program held

With Bani Hashimi at Mashhad train station

Part IV - Damascus

In the Name of the Most High

Today, we plan to make ziyarat of some of the most famous companions of the Prophet and the Imams.  We begin early in the morning with a half-hour car ride to the tomb of Hujr b. Uday, one of Imam Ali's (as) companions who I haven't heard much about until this trip.  The visit gets off to a somewhat bizarre start, unfortunately, as two grown men nearly get into a fist fight at the entrance of Hujr's haram.  Our tour guide, a student in the local howzah in Damascus who understands Arabic, tells us that the dispute broke out over one man's refusal to take the other's word regarding a door that was broken leading to the haram's bathroom.  Thankfully, some others are able to get between the two and break it up.

As I enter the room in which Hujr b. Uday is buried, a large caravan of pilgrims from an Arabic-speaking country enter along with me.  Not wanting the crowd and noise to disturb what should be a spiritual experience, I wait until they depart before reciting the ziyarat of Hujr b. Uday.  Afterward, I sit quietly near his grave, thinking about his sacrifices.  This was a man so staunch in his love and support for Imam Ali (as) that he refused to curse Imam Ali (as) from the pulpit despite Muawiyah's order to do so.  As a result of this refusal, Muawiyah had both him and his sons killed.  As I reflect on Hujr's life, I wonder about my own soul; am I at a level in which I'd sacrifice my own life and sons for the sake of my Imam?

Next, we take another half-hour car ride to Bab al-Sagheer, a famous graveyard in Damascus where other famous companions of the Prophet and Imams are buried.  Upon arrival, we decide to first visit Bilal al-Habashi, a former African slave who was freed by the Prophet and became the first muezzin of Islam.  According to history, Hazrat Bilal was so distraught at the treatment meted out to the Ahlul Bayt (as) after the Prophet's death that while living in Medina, he refused to give the adhaan unless Imam Hasan (as) or Imam Hussain (as) asked him to.  Because of this, Bilal was exiled to Syria, where he lived out his remaining days.

We then visit the tomb of Hazrat Fizza (as), a woman who served Hazrat Fatima (as) throughout her life and traveled to Karbala along with Imam Hussain's (as) caravan.  In Shaam, she accompanied Sayyida Zaynab (as) and the rest of the women into Yazeed's darbaar.  According to narrations, as Sayyida Zaynab (as) was being chastised in Yazeed's darbaar, it was none other than Hazrat Fizza - a young, African servant of the Ahlul Bayt (as) - who leapt to her defense.  As we make ziyarat of Hazrat Fizza and Hazrat Bilal (as), only one word comes to mind: servanthood.  We are visiting personalities that had given their lives, their wealth, their efforts, all for the sake of serving Ahlul Bayt (as).  They were living manifestations of the Qur'anic verses that ask believers to sacrifice everything for the sake of God.  At their graves, after reading Fatihah, ziyarat, and reciting 2 rakats of prayer after the ziyarat, I reflect on my own pitiable condition and how few of my actions are purely for the sake of pleasing God.  Like Hazrat Fizza and Bilal (as), I seek to cultivate a similar pure and sincere servanthood toward Allah (swt) and the Ahlul Bayt (as) in myself so that I have the same relationship with Imam Mahdi (as) that Hazrat Fizza and Bilal had with their Imams.

In Bab al-Sagheer we also visit the graves of Umm Kulthoom, Imam Hussain's (as) sister, and Abdullah b. Ali, one of Imam Zayn al-Abideen's (as) sons.  Our tour guide also points out another place in the graveyard in which it is believed Imam Zayn al-Abideen (as) prayed.  As I see other pilgrims offering 2 rakats of prayer in this exact spot, I desperately want to pray there.  Our tour guide is running short on time, however, and I console myself with the thought that perhaps God will value our respect of the tour guide's schedule as much as He will our prayers offered in this spot.

In the evening, we return to the area around Sayyida Zaynab's haram (the neighborhood is known as "Zaynabiyya") to do some shopping.  Interestingly enough, because there are so many Iranian pilgrims who travel to Damascus to make ziyarat of Sayyida Zaynab (as), the shopkeepers in the area are all in fluent in basic conversational Farsi.  Because we've also studied some basic Farsi in anticipation of our Iran trip, we are able to blend in and bargain for prices in Farsi.  Undoubtedly, we're offered lower prices than we'd be offered had we negotiated in English.  After shopping, we stop by the cyber cafe for a bit, eat dinner at our hotel, and call it a night.

The next morning is our last in Syria.  We have only one hour in the haram before we have to leave for the airport.  Knowing it's my last visit to the majestic shrine I've come to love in only a few short days, and not knowing when I'll be back, I try not to do too much amaal during this visit but instead focus on the quality of the amaal I do.  I recite a final farewell ziyarat to Sayyida Zaynab (as).  After the hour passes, I slowly head back out to the entrance of the haram, where I meet my wife.  There, we both thank God for the opportunity to visit this divine personality, and ask Him to allow us to return and grant our family and friends the opportunity to visit soon.

Tomb of Bilal al-Habashi (as)

Room holding Hazrat Fizza's (as) tomb

Bab al-Sagheer

Prayer Hall adjacent to Sayyida Zaynab (as) shrine

Sayyida Zaynab (as) shrine dome at night

Saying farewell to Sayyida Zaynab (as)

Part III - Damascus

Today was Ashura here for me, although my wife, as a muqallid of a different marja, observed it yesterday.  Because we wanted to do Ashura together, though, we both decided to observe it on both days.

Yesterday, in the morning, we went to the shrine of Sayyida Ruqayah's (as), also known as Bibi Sakina in the Indian Subcontinent.  We were told Ashura amaal would be held at her shrine, although when we got there, we didn't see it happening.  Instead, the haram was packed to the brim with caravan after caravan of Iranian pilgrims dressed in black who had come to the shrine.  After reciting the ziyarat of Bibi Sakina (as) and touching the zarih where her body lay, my wife and I joined a large majlis that several of the Iranian caravans were jointly holding in Farsi about the events of Ashura.

The speaker, a middle-aged Iranian man, passionately and emotionally narrated the events of Ashura.  He was up on a stage, surrounded on all sides by the crowd, describing various events that took place at Karbala.  Thankfully he used lots of hand gestures while speaking, so it wasn't impossible to understand him despite the language barrier.  At one point, when describing the shahadat of Hazrat Ali Asghar (as), the speaker went into the crowd, grabbed a young infant, and held him high in the air.  He repeated the words Imam Hussain (as) said to Umar ibn Saad's army when Imam Hussain (as) held Hazrat Ali Asghar (as) in his arms. 

After the majlis, we visited Yazeed's darbaar.  It's known as a historic Umayyad mosque now, but it was the same palace to which the women of Ahlul Bayt (as) were dragged in handcuffs and chains.  Inside the darbaar is an enormous courtyard with marble flooring and huge, awe-inspiring architecture.  Walking through this palace made me think of how the Ahlul Bayt (as), the oppressed, must have felt while dragged powerless into the court of the Pharoah of their day.

Inside the darbaar, we saw the place were Yazeed sat - it was an elevated wooden platform, about 30 feet in the air.  We also saw the area where the ladies of the Ahlul Bayt (as) stood while Sayyida Zaynab (as) delivered her historic, bone-chilling sermon in front of Yazeed.  We then saw the mimbar on which Imam Zayn al-Abideen (as) stood when delivering his own sermon in Yazeed's court.

The most inspiring place for me inside Yazeed's darbaar was the mehraab, or prayer niche, of Imam Zayn al-Abideen.  This was a closed off area inside the darbaar - only big enough to fit one person in sujood - where Imam Zayn al-Abideen made prayers.  It was humbling to see the ground on which the Imam - the pinnacle of worshippers - offered prayers and connected to God.  As I pressed my hand against the glass, I could feel the spiritual aura emanating from this area.

Walking out of the darbaar, we walked through bazaar-e-Shaam, which was the bazaar the Ahlul Bayt (as) were paraded through on their way to the darbaar, and where stones were hurled at the ladies of the Holy House while they were unveiled.  The bazaar has two levels - open stores and shops on the ground floor, and apartments and storage areas with windows on the second floor.  As we slowly treaded the bazaar's long and narrow path, I thought of what the Ahlul Bayt (as), the captives, must have felt as the residents of Shaam jeered at and insulted them.

Today, I started the day with fajr prayers at the haram.  Before entering the haram, it is customary to recite the "Idn ad-dukhl," a short du'a in which one asks God and the holy personality buried there for permission to enter.  Other recommended acts for visiting the shrine include walking slowly and deliberately, reciting dhikr of Allah (swt) as one walks, and wearing one's cleanest and nicest clothes to the shrine.

The inside of the haram was packed - it seems many people come for fajr prayers and visit the zarih immediately afterwards.  I barely found a place to sit in the room in which the zarih is located.  After reciting some du'a and Qur'an, I went outside and sat in the courtyard of the haram for some time.  The courtyard is incredibly peaceful in the morning, as one sees families with young children walking to and from the haram, a few trees planted in the courtyard, and groups of birds flying overhead.  While sitting there, I thought of how fortunate I was to be visiting this holy personality.  I thought of how insignificant my challenges and difficulties in life seemed compared to those of this woman.  I thought of how little it all mattered, how the only thing that really mattered was the extent to which I could follow in the path of Sayyida (as) and live my life the way she lived hers.

Before dhuhr prayer, my wife and I joined a group of desis from the US and the UK who were performing the Ashura amaal in the courtyard of the haram.  Again, it was incredibly spiritual and uplifting to recite these du'as in the open air and in the presence of one of the greatest personalities of Karbala, Zaynab al-Kubra.

Prayer niche of Imam Zayn al-Abideen (as)

Courtyard inside Yazeed's darbaar

Bazaar-e-Shaam

Courtyard inside Sayyida Zaynab (as) shrine

Zarih in Sayyida Ruqayyah (as) shrine

Part II - Damascus

In the Name of the Most High


Alhamdulilah, we've reached Syria safely.  On our way in, we had an interesting dilemma.  At the Damascus airport, as almost all of the other travelers on our flight were whisked through immigration, the immigration officers held us up because were on a group visa but weren't traveling with our group's leader.  As we pleaded with immigration officials, one of them decided to take my wife and I into a back room to try to confirm with our group leader that we were in fact there with the group.  Unfortunately, they couldn't reach our group leader by phone, and we were sent back into the waiting area behind the immigration counters.  For the next hour and a half we sat there, passing time and waiting, unsure of what would be done with us.


After sitting idly for some time, out of nowhere my eyes suddenly locked with those of a Kuwaiti man walking directly toward us.  The man was bearded and sturdily built, and walked with a smile on his face, as if he had a deliberate purpose in approaching us.  After exchanging pleasantries and recognizing we were foreigners, he began speaking to us in English.  He mentioned he was from San Antonio, of all places, and ran a hookah shop there.  We exchanged stories, me about "Zeitoun," a recent novel about Syrian-American hero Abdulrahman Zeitoun, and him about an American man who frequented his hookah store and recently embraced Islam.  As I explained our predicament to him, he gracefully approached one of the higher-ranking Syrian immigration officials and began flattering him with expressive and eloquent Arabic.  We were through immigration within a matter of minutes.  I thanked the Kuwaiti man profusely.  His name was Hossein, he told me.  Though he mentioned he was visiting family in Damascus and that he would be at Sayyida Zaynab's shrine tomorrow evening, I never saw Hossein again.     


Today, I started the day with dhuhr prayers at the haram of Sayyida Zaynab (as).  Unfortunately, my first visit to the haram of Sayyida Zaynab (as) was rather uneventful; I didn't feel any real spiritual connection or change of mood at the shrine.  As we were walking back from the haram, two young boys pleaded with us incessantly and physically clung onto our bodies, blocking our path back to the hotel.  They desperately wanted some spare change.  


Our second visit to the haram today was for maghrib and isha prayers.  This visit felt less rushed as we were able to spend more time in the haram itself.  The feeling just sitting inside the shrine is simply amazing.  As I clung for the first time onto Sayyida Zaynab's zarih, the metallic cage that covers her tomb, I lowered my head and began instinctively making any du'a that came to mind.  Almost immediately, I prayed for mercy.  I begged her to ask Allah (swt) to have mercy on me in this life and the hereafter.  While sitting by her zarih, I also thought about the tribulations that Zaynab (as) went through for the sake for Islam.  About how her hair turned gray due to the unbearable pain she bore in the aftermath of Karbala.  I thought of how she gave the ultimate sacrifice -- her own two sons -- for the sake of Islam.  And while clinging to her zarih, I really felt Sayyida Zaynab (as) was there with me, listening to my du'a...