Diary Of Roman Abidi

Entry 1

The plane just took off from Toronto. Perhaps this is a good time to think about something a coworker of mine asked me. When I told him I am taking a trip to Iraq and Syria he was a bit confused. His confusion is on some levels valid. I mean why on earth would someone in their right mind want to use their vacation time to risk their life by visiting a war torn country if they didn’t have to?

When you love someone the thought of them being put in danger shatters your whole being. Why is it then that my Mom and Dad blessing was easier to get than even the tickets? Is it because they don’t love me? If this was true then why were their eyes watery at the airport as we said goodbyes? Surely tears are the most apparent manifestation of love. The answer to this confusion lies mostly in the intentions behind this trip.

We hope to visit the shrine of Imam Husayn (peace be upon him). Imam Husayn was brutally murdered by a greedy tyrant in a desert over 1400 years ago. What turns this unfortunate event into the greatest tragedy to hit mankind is who Imam Husayn(a) is and what he stood for. Universal values of freedom, justice and peace were trampled upon. Husayn`s family and friends were deprived of basic human needs such as food and water. The women and children were humiliated, paraded and incarcerated in dungeons that were perhaps even more painful than the Guantanamos of our generation.

Even with all this physical affliction, emotional terror and unthinkable abuse every member of that family maintained their dignity and refused to compromise their values. The result was success on many levels one of which is the formation of a core of followers that remember Imam Husayn throughout their lives and try to follow in his footsteps. This `qawm` of Husaynis maintains such a strong love for Imam Husayn and his ideals that millions will go even so far as to risk their lives in order to seek their beloved.

The truth is these people love Husayn even more than their own existence just as Husayn loved God`s purpose even more than his own comfort. My family is a part of this qawm. There is no fear or hesitation in my mind or heart as I begin this journey for he has told us, `Speak not of those who die in the way of God. Surely they are receiving sustenance from their Lord-` There is a poet who has written, `Kerbal ki kanahi jab koyee bhi sunayega, dil waalo ki ankho se aik darya bahayega.` these tears are a manifestation of that love.

Entry # 2 - 2/8/2009

5.5 hours till we take off for Najaf, Iraq. We arrived in Dubai 24 hours ago and slowly have been welcoming the zuwwar one by one as they gather from all corners of the world. We were advised that there are 9 planes that have been charyered to fly out of Dubai the zuwwar. Of these, three are for our group. The excitement is slowly starting to build as the reality sets in that we are going for ziarat soon.

I spent the night at my brother-in-law’s house (paternal cousin’s husband) and we tried to sleep but could not. Because we had missed the orientation, Agha Bhai was filling us in on all the information given out at orientation. This will be his third year going in a row for Arbaeen to Kerbala. When it was around fajr time and we still had not slept, we got up and decided to eat. My sis made kichree and we ate it with achaar. With our stomachs full we dozed off for a bit

2/9/2009 - Entry #3
 

Eight hours after leaving our home and we finally got in the plane. Lets just say Dubai airport is a mess when dealing with high volumes of travelers. You would think they’d be good considering that they are a transit city. All that put aside our bags have been checked in and now we are waiting patiently. Everyone in our group was given ID tags which we have to wear at all times. It has our name, our hotel’s name, our group leader and hotel’s contact number and our passport number and nationality. Should something happen, this will help them identify our bodies.

While we were waiting at the airport I noticed a lone white guy standing in the corner among the waves and waves of desis/arabs. I went and talked to him. He works for a not-for-profit group(that means he gets paid but the organization doesn't collect margins) providing relief work in Afghanistan. Told him about Kerbala and our trip and he was pretty interested. He wanted to read my blog. I’ll have to make sure to send him a link. I am reminded of Josh Malihabadi’s shayr – “Insaan ko bedaar tou ho lene do, Har qaum pukaraygi hamary hai hussain!” Truly the message of Imam Hussain (a) is so strong that everyone that hears about it cannot help but be drawn towards it.

We’re in the plane now. I’m looking outside the window and I see thousands and thousands of people walking towards Kerbala. So many that it’s even visible from the plane. I recorded it on the camcorder. I’ll try and upload when I get a chance. It’s finally setting in that I am actually going to Kerbala! Dr Ehsan our group leader just went on the intercom and started reading a nauha, “chalo Kerbala chalay.” Tears come to my eyes. Me and all the people in the plane with me are joining the millions and millions of people that have become a part of. We are following in the footsteps of Jabir – the first one to visit the grave of Imam Hussain (a) and witness the grave injustices that were done to him. We are joining the revolution of Zaynab (sa), the first azadar of Imam Hussain (as). She was alone them, but millions of us come today against all odds to let her know that Zaynab WE are your army. We are here to continue that which you have started.

We will be landing in Najaf soon. It’s hard to believe I’m actually going to THE Najaf. The city in which so many awliya (intimate friends of God) and anbiya (prophets of God) lived. The grave of the first man is here: Prophet Adam (as). The grave of THE Noah of Noah’s ark is buried. What an honor it is just to walk on the same land such pious men walked on, prostrate on the same land they prostrated on and breathe the same air they breathed. I went to a Ghadeer banquet in January where the organizers raffled off a ticket for a free trip to Najaf. I sat there and prayed that Moula consider me worthy of visiting him in Najaf. I went home sad that night that I had not won. I prayed that God grant me the privilege of visiting his wali and Alhamdulillah I feel this prayer is about to be answered. The line from a munajaat keeps going through my head. Mere lab par tou rehta hai subho masa, Ya Ali Ya Ali Ya Ali Ya Ali. Narayyyyy Hydeeriiiiiiii

2/10/2009 - Entry 4

I feel like all that I needed to accomplish in life has been accomplished. I read the munajaat so many times in my life that I have it memorized. “Mujko bhi apney rauzey pe bulwaiye. Mere hajat rawa, mere mushkil kusha Ya Ali Ya Ali Ya Ali Ya Ali.” My duas were khubool-ed (as my little sister would put it). I am returning from doing Ziyarat of Ali ibn Abu Talib (as). The same Imam Ali (a), the mention of whose virtues, brings happiness in your heart. The same Imam, the mention of anything against him, boils your blood. The same Ali (a) that was there at the Prophet’s side through think and thin. My uncle even went so far as to suggest, “Kis ne kaha rasul ka saya koyee na tha, Har waqt Ali jo they Payambar kay saath saath.”

As we began walking towards the haram, our heartbeat started to pick up. Could this be real? We had to go through two security checks before we were allowed into the sehan of the Haram. I took of my sandals in the haram and felt the cool marble against my feet. I knew this feeling. I had felt it once before in my trip to Mashad. I felt like I was home. The journey had been long and tiring, but it was over. Tears flowed. I was finally home.

We read the izne dukhool (a dua recited to gain permission to enter) for it is our conviction that we are not going to see anyone dead. Nay, speak not of those who die in the way of God, surely they are receiving sustenance from their lord. Then we went inside an did ziyarat. The only word I can think that describes how I felt is content. I reached the height of content-ness.

I couldn’t help but keep thinking that I am walking on the same land that so many pious people have walked on. The anjuman that came with our group read a nauha and one of the lines was, “Jo chaho zindagi jao najaf ko, Ali ki khaak e paa zinda rakhay gi.” I tried very hard to ask for just that; zindagi. It’s funny because I remember my mom, on the drive to the airport telling me that the first time you lay eyes on the haram you should pray for three things. She listed off a list of suggestions ranging from a good wife to health and wellbeing. Walking back from the haram I realized that I didn’t pray for any of that. This is one of those places where no matter how much you try and rationalize what you are going to ask for, your heart asks for what it wants. I went to ask for so much, yet all I could ask for was the strength to follow in his path. I was visiting my Imam (a) after 20 years. Important things first. This is only my first visit.

The last time I went for ziarat I was just 4 years old. The rauza (shrine) of Imam Ali (as) is grand and his visitors of every kind. We saw people of many different races and speaking many different languages. (i recognized the following: arabic, persian, urdu, punjabi, gujrati and english) they were not all Shia. For example there was a Bohra group and a Sufi group that we saw.

This was also my first visit to post-saddam Iraq. It is a bittersweet feeling one gets. It is impossible to get more than 500 feet radius approximately around the main shrine without going through a set of check points. The first checkpoint is to enter the area surrounding the outer most walls. A combination of Iraqi soldiers and ununiformed security personnel do a full body search of every man woman and child entering. All bags and purses are checked. The guards are nice in their greeting you and often pray for the acceptance of prayers and your well being. Sometimes they ask you to pray for them.

There is a sort of mutual understanding between them and those visiting that listen this is a good thing and we are only here for your security. Iraqi people have piercing sharp eyes and it is common to stare or make eye contact with even strangers. I kept remembering the Toronto public transit scene: people packed tightly in a train/subway/bus desperately trying not to make eye contact with anyone. Some stare at posters others at their shoes and yet others with their noses buried in a book. Should two people accidentally make eye contact with a stranger both parties turn away quickly as if they just saw the other person naked by accident. And trust me most of the time it’s so cold in Canada that we are far from naked. I can only imagine placing a subway cart full of Iraqis; the ultimate stare-ing contest.

Men and women go through separate check points. Women’s check points are in tents for privacy and are staffed with women officers.

The second checkpoint to enter the shrine is at the entrance to the wall surrounding the actual building. Cellular phones, cameras and other electronics are not allowed beyond this point. You are once again put through a full body check and finally enter the court yard surrounding the shrine. Both in the courtyard and in the area outside you see hundreds and hundreds of people sitting or lying covered by mink blankets(most that have been donated by zaireen-will write more about this later). You can now enter the building that houses the shrine.

Tears of joy and happiness flow from your eyes as you realize that you are becoming a part of the billions of people, saints, Prophets and angels that have come to this station to give alliegence to and renew their covenant. At any given time of day the shrine is full. Even so much as touching the shrine becomes a challenge. Some devotees kiss the footsteps of the door such an elevated place and others the door. Many cry out loud in conversation with God begging forgiveness for their sins and ask for mercy giving reference of the pious men buried here. I have not seen such devotion in any western practice/event/occasion.

2/11/2009 - Entry # 5