Diary of A Pilgrim - Moon Over Muzdalifah

Knackered and drained in more ways than one, Muzdalifah offered a welcome respite from the torment and misery of Arafah for this weary guest of God ...

Taking a snooze after all the prayers, supplications and pebble-collecting. It wasn't easy to look for pea-sized 'batus' in semi-darkness.

My roommate Nor Aziah and her husband Ahmad, from Sungai Buloh, Selangor. The pint-sized grandma regaled us with witty, poignant tales of her year-long sojourn in New Delhi many years ago.

The boundary for collecting pebbles.

It was midnight rendezvous of the strangest kind; in a desert valley beneath a cloudless sky and not a twinkle in sight, the bluish-white moon casting a long shadow on the teeming mass of humanity below.

Weary beyond words, I reclined gently on a rocky mound, grateful to have found a nook to rest my aching feet. Improbable as it may sound, somewhere in my subconscious ‘Ole Blue Eyes was crooning “Blue Moon” as I gazed, mesmerised, at the most beautiful blue moon I had ever seen.

The ordeal of Arafah was still fresh in my mind as we left for Muzdalifah eight kilometres away not long after sunset, to collect pea-sized pebbles to 'Stone the Devil’ in Mina the following day.

Apart from a tree or two planted as landmarks for pilgrims, this stark, pebbly valley between Arafah and Mina is devoid of any vegetation. Neither was there any permanent structure, save for a couple of toilets with no more than 10 cubicles each.

Muzdalifah has a special mention in the Qur’an, where it is referred to as Al-Masy’ar Al-Haraam, indicating it as a sacred place where worship and devotion are richly rewarded.

There was no tent in Muzdalifah, just sheets of green tarpaulin neatly laid on the sandy, pebbly expanse to give a measure of comfort to pilgrims for the few hours that they spent in Muzdalifah before moving on to Mina.

The main duty of staying at Muzdalifah is deemed to have been fulfilled if one spends any part of the second half of the night there. Malaysian pilgrims under Tabung Haji usually spend four or five hours in Muzdalifah, departing for Mina after midnight.

Tabung Haji officials confided Muzdalifah had always been a logistic nightmare to them, considering the limited number of buses allocated (they’d be lucky to get 20) to move 27,000 Malaysian pilgrims from Muzdalifah to Mina 7 kilometres away, within the hours of midnight to dawn the following day.

Our allocated station in Muzdalifah was, thankfully, quite near a wash area so we didn’t have to walk very far for toilet and ablution. Upon arrival, we performed the customary two-raka’at sunat prayer and continued with our supplications and doas.

After the tribulations of Arafah, it was simply heavenly to experience the serenity of Muzdalifah. The evening air was windless and still, yet cool. Despite the crowd, a sense of peace and calmness prevailed. My spirit lifted considerably.

I took the opportunity to have a snooze while Pak Abu wandered off, torchlight and pouch in hand, to collect pebbles. Well aware of my now-acute headache, he later returned with pebbles enough for the two of us, bless his heart.

It is easy to lose one’s bearing in Muzdalifah. Apart from the aforesaid trees, a few signboards in Arabic, English and French (the three main languages used in the Holy land), minimal streetlight and a couple of toilet facilities dotting the barren landscape, there is nothing to differentiate one’s allocated station from that of the next group.

The presence of fellow Nusantara pilgrims (250,000 pilgrims from Indonesia alongside us) flanking us on both sides, made station identification twice as difficult when all one saw was a sea of white, although there were banners and flags to indicate the boundary between the two countries.

Thus, over the next few hours we were subjected to a series of announcements by Tabung Haji officials using megaphones, calling out the names of spouses, parents and relatives who had somehow gone ‘missing’ in the teeming mass.

They were mostly the elderly and the infirmed, many of them illiterate, who had simply become disoriented, clueless as to where their stations were, wandering in circles to find their way back. The announcements served to guide them back to their respective groups.

Except for the inevitable pushing and jostling (when will they ever learn?) when the buses started arriving at midnight to take us onwards to Mina, Muzdalifah passed without incidence for Pak Abu and I.

Pak Abu, however, was on the verge of losing his cool when some of the elderly pilgrims were rudely shoved and elbowed by impatient younger pilgrims, causing the hapless senior citizens, women amongst them, to lose their footing, nearly toppling over, in the rush to stake a seat in the bus.

Such behaviour, shameful and unbecoming, was contrary to God's command: "Take necessary provisions with you for the Hajj journey, but the best provision is right (good) conduct." (Al-Baqarah: 197).

It was two o'clock in the morning when we finally reached the tent city of Mina, tired and hungry, but happy to have arrived safely and in good time.

We were later to learn a woman pilgrim from Perak was inadvertently left behind in Muzdalifah. Her husband had gone to the washroom when everyone was boarding. Upon returning, he couldn't find her anywhere. Assuming she had left on an earlier bus, he hopped on the last one and left for Mina.

In the meantime, the wife was waiting patiently for him to turn up at their prescribed meeting place, to leave together. The strangest thing was, he walked past that very same place many times over searching for her yet saw nothing, when she was right there, praying and saying her supplications.

It was many hours later when he realised she hadn't arrived that he returned to Mudzalifah, to find one highly agitated, panic-stricken spouse, alone in the now deserted plain. Thank be to Allah (swt) she wasn't harmed in any way....