Imam Jafar as Sadiq(as) is reported to have said "When a Shia leaves his house with the intention of performing Imam Husain's(as) ziarat, he is accompanied by 700 angels. They safeguard him from above and below, from the right and the left, from the front and the back (all six directions), till such a time that he reaches his destination"
With the distraction of packing satisfied, my mind focused on the journey, the sacredness of the land I was flying to, the enormity of whose presence I would be in, and the significance of this visitation.
Feeling unworthy, we made our way, by rental car to JFK airport from DC, around a 4.5 hrs journey. By the time we boarded it was quite late at night and the kids easily fell into a deep slumber for most of the 12 hour flight. We arrived in Dubai for an overnight stopover, enough time to have a meal, shower and a short rest before waking up to catch the Baghdad flight the next morning. It was a bit challenging for the kids, as well as myself, as we had already traveled 15 hours or so, including the car ride to NY, but the excitement of the final destination and the fear of missing our connection ultimately drove us out of our warm soft beds.
One by one, I was checking off each hurdle in my mind, waking and dressing kids, catching the shuttle, getting through security, walking to the gate, waiting to board, all of which are ten times more of a hassle when travelling with little ones.
I kept reminding myself that 700 angels are with our every step until I return home, surreptitiously helping us get to our destination, like invisible guards protecting us and guides pointing us in the direction of our beloved. I felt a satisfying enveloping peace, a sort of tranquil confidence that put me at ease.
Shiekh Abdul Jalil of Idara-e-Jaferia of MD, once gave a lecture on how the earth will also bear witness to our actions and our whereabouts. Each place we have knelt and prostrated will testify on our behalf. Some of these locations, have without any doubt, a greater spiritual significant, so much so that one can feel its magnetic pull and energy upon arrival.
Arriving at the airport in Baghdad required patience, after all, after we had been travelling for almost a full 24 hours. We located some seats and adjusted to the lack of motion, as the visas were being processed. The kids no doubt asked for the toilet, my
advice to you- before you are due to land, be sure to have them use the toilets on board, as there are 'Asian' toilets at the airport.
Once the visas had been processed and passports handed back to us, we headed towards the baggage claim. Be prepared for missing or damaged luggage, don't get upset over it, you can improvise and you'll live. Travelling with a large group means many delays, we would have to wait until every member had their luggage, their visa and had boarded the buses. It was an excellent test of patience
Once we had boarded the buses, the kids dropped into a slumber like no other. I, on the other hand, like most of the others, was too excited to sleep. There was too much to soak in, the endless checkpoints, the soldiers, the palm trees, the dirt, the trash, the donkey carts, the American tanks, some deserted and left on the side of the road and others parked and patrolling the traffic and the canals and rivers. The excitement sours as the reality of Iraq, the birthplace of civilization, is in fact in tatters, trash strewn in large piles everywhere, concrete walls surrounding many checkpoints protecting the guards from suicide bombers, some in crumbles and some with bullet holes patrolled with US artillery, and the poverty. I can not forget the poverty. I no longer buy my kids clothes they don't need, or throw food we can not finish, I now choose to live only within my means, nothing more than necessary or needed.
As we were nearing the Holy city of Najaf, Ali Safdar Rizvi began reciting the most hauntingly beautiful nohay and the weight of my thoughts quickly focused back to my own personal journey, not much longer, not much further. The one who was born inside the Kaaba, who lifted the gate at Khayber, who slept in the bed of Rasulallah(saws), who was the husband of the lady of paradise, the father of Imam Hasan and Husayn (as), the standard bearer, the one who bore the difficulties of a divided ummah, whose sermons and dua are unquestionably like no other, who recited a munajat to his Lord so powerful and spiritually cosmic, that the listener can not bear its enormity. This man, this great man has invited you.
Not worthy, that's was the next feeling that literally enveloped me. Why me? Useless, imperfect me.
We are all in the same low position, but we had that spark, that interest, that love, that brought us running. Blinded us to the reality of the journey, the security, the danger, the inconveniences. Somehow it worked, the visa, the dates, the flights, the money. Allah(swt) wanted you, allowed you, and invited you. I'd be a fool to turn it down because of my lowly status. My back straightened up slightly in my bus seat. This is it, the bus now stopped, the doors folding open, get up and start walking, every step I am closer.
