Yeah. It has been that long.
My favourite month of the year is Ramadan. I literally feel completely blanketed in the mercy, warmth and blessings of my Lord.
The best part among others about this month used to be going to the ladies section of the mosque to perform special prayers called as Taraweeh. The best part of Taraweeh being the dua (supplication) at the end of it.
That was only in KSA. For 22 years I had a favourite mosque and many favourite Imams due to their exemplery Qiraats.
I felt so blessed. It is an extraordinary connection with God that only a mosque can offer. It’s like a pure place. A part of heaven. And what a privilege.
I dont have the clicks in my camera , but these two are my most favourite:
King Fahad Grand Mosque. Al khobar.
My most Favourite: Masjid Abdul Rahman bin Auf. Al khobar.
Books transport people to another world. At least I get transported.
But to another world where things happen.
In the mosque, I find a piece of heaven. My heaven. A place where you leave behind all relations, responsibilities, social chains. Only to be lost in the serenic soothing verses and wishing time stops.
When I left KSA on exit and moved to India. My this piece of heaven vanished. In India it’s looked down upon for women to go to mosques to pray. I agree too because of the fashion show some of us put up going to the mosque and totally ruining the purpose also without proper Hijab.
My first Ramadan after marriage was in KSA. My Second Ramadan, I wept my heart out on the prayer mat at my home in India for being so far away from Heaven.
The third Ramadan I went back to KSA on a visit to my parents home. I was an expectant mother at that time. I would sit on a chair and pray but I went. I ran to the mosque. My heaven.
Air conditioned, beautifully scented, amazingly structured and furnished, calm lighting. These things held my heart.
When I went back to India for good. I once again lost my opportunity to pray in the mosque.
Ramadan 4, 5 and 6. I spent on my prayer mat at home. Yearning for the touch of the carpet of a mosque on my forehead.
Khuda ke paas deyr hai..
A wise saying that says there is delay in the answering of prayer by God. But there is never a darkness or a complete no.
And here I am today. 4 Ramadan later. Running to another beautiful mosque in my area with my two little children. To pray.
To dissolve myself. My heart. My soul. My whole being. On the musallah of the Masjid e Madinah.
Too beautiful a feeling to describe.
Too heartening to explain.
No one other than God himself knows how I yearned to be there. In a mosque. To pray to him. In a place meant only for that exact purpose.
My happiness knew no bounds. I stood there quivering with joy, with tears running down my face. Thank you God. For letting me in your home. For giving me a chance to bow down before you in a place you prefer to be prayed to.
I am happy tonight. I sleep in peace tonight. With the happiness that my dua my supplication was answered. That my yearning never went in vain.
As I sit now praying the morning prayer on my prayer mat home. I am at peace. Because I know, my piece of heaven is close by. And I can go there. Whenever I wish to escape this world. Whenever I wish to dissolve in tranquility.