As a mother of four, I am surrounded by noise.
The sound of my husband on a work call.
The sound of the toilet flushing (yet again).
The sound of my teen discussing strategies while gaming.
The sound of laughter from my daughter’s bedroom when she’s on a Zoom call with her college friends.
These sounds are just a regular part of my everyday life. I can’t imagine my life without them.
When I reflect on my Hajj experience from 2014, the part that stands out the most was the silence at Arafah. I was surrounded by millions of people who were quietly praying, crying, and whispering. The lack of noise was the most overwhelming experience for me. It was a memory that I hold deep in my conscience, a feeling that I so often wish I could convey to my students when I teach about Hajj.
In those moments, you sit mesmerized on the plains of Arafah, surrounded by people from all the world. The whispers and quiet mumbling of various dialects coalesce into a symphony, a harmony that is based on a single note: forgiveness. The longer you sit at Arafah, the longer you feel your own mistakes and regrets come bubbling to the surface. When you close your eyes, you feel the power of that silence seep into you. It is a tidal wave that crashes over you, carrying with it the sorrow, the pain and remorse of everyone around you. It removes the aches in your bones that were filled with grievances and regrets you didn’t even know you had, and washes them away until there is nothing left except pure undiluted love for Allah (SWT) and hope in His forgiveness.
This post is part of a collaboration called Reflections of Hajj.
Please check out the posts of these five bloggers who will share their reflections on Hajj.
Dr Huda Arif from @whitecoat.mom
Hiba Bajo | Not Just a Mom from @hibabajo
Nargis – Sharing Mom Reality from @mumsthewordpk
Mariam – Muslim traveling mum from @smallprintofbeingamum
Doha Mommy Blogger | Sana from @chaiwithsana