A pilgrimage to Iraq

 

Every land has a story to tell. It’s the land’s way of breathing itself into the future. It’s the memories of the past that ground it firmly against the gushing waters of time.

The Iraqi city of Kerbala, like all lands, shares a story, a heart-splintering fragment of history that resonates through millions of Muslims all over the world and sustains their faith.

Burdened by an unwelcoming, merciless sun and an inevitable fate, Imam Hussain, the revered grandson of Prophet Muhammad, arrived in Kerbala over 1400 years ago.  The land was diffused with gloom and bloodshed, and the events to be followed upon his arrival were among the cruellest the world would ever witness.
From the seventh day of Muharram (the first month of the Islamic calendar), Imam Hussain and his small group of seventy-two loyal companions were barred from accessing water of the Euphrates for three days. This, however, did not deter their faith, loyalty, and yearning for righteousness. With throats as dry as the land they were on, a small group of little over 70 persons faced an army of tens of thousands on the tenth of Muharram.  His six-month infant, his eighteen-year-old son, his young nephews, his half-brother and standard-bearer Abbas – Imam Hussain was bereaved of them all. As the sky dusked, the battle of Kerbala culminated with the martyrdom of Imam Hussain, a death that shook the world.

Imam Hussain’s and Abbas’s shrines now lie in Kerbala, their éclat bedazzling pilgrims. The events of the land are alive in the hearts of hundreds of supplicants who pay their homage to the shrines every day. The carpeted floors absorb the sound of the thousands of scuttling feet whose owners have their heads bowed down in humble penitence. Some lower their heads and dissolve into the rhythm of namaaz, some peruse the Holy Quran, some press their foreheads against the tombs and ask for everything they can ask for, whilst some bury their heads in their chests and shed tears for their Imam. Their faces are lit with the dancing golden lights of marvellous chandeliers that dot the ceiling like stars in the sky.

The shrine of Imam Hussain

To some, Kerbala is more than just a city with a story. It is the embodiment of faith – a faith so strong that it never deserted the 72 companions of Imam Hussain in their toughest times. It is this faith that draws people – that drew us – towards it.

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We shuffled restlessly on our seats at the airport as our flight got delayed due to a sandstorm. As one might expect from the dry sandy nation, Iraq is no stranger to sandstorms. A cloud of brown dust blowing with the warm wind often indicates an impending sandstorm, and people scarf themselves and rush to seek a haven. Cars’ wipers slide the dust off windshields and carpeted floors of the shrines are vacuumed once the storm blows away.

A dusty sky pointing towards a sandstorm

People’s eyes widen when we tell them we are travelling to Iraq. Guns, bombs, deserts – be careful of everything, they warn. Looking back at the history of the country, this is not surprising. However, the struggles of the nation are overshadowed by its captivating beauty. Its wide roads, copses of date palms sprinkled all over, affable nationals, and plush markets mask the poverty that it dwells in.

Downtown Kerbala in particular stands out as an unexpected surprise, an oasis, to tourists. Housing lavish malls, restaurants, and apartments, the area adds a Dubai-like foreign touch of colour to a brown-and-white landscape.

In the bustling bazaars of Kerbala, jewellery hangs freely in the open and tempts passers. Forex stores have stacks of currency notes lying plainly on the counter. As namaaz time approaches, shopkeepers leave their stores open and unguarded, and head off to the mosque. They don’t fear getting robbed, because they know they won’t get robbed. And they don’t. In the land of Imam Hussain and Abbas, virtues and faith have to be watertight. It’s not merely merchandise that is sold and bought in the bazaars. People here exchange trust, when an ‘as salaam alaikum’ greeting is offered and a ‘wa alaikum salaam’ greeting is received.

Jewellery hangs in the open

A shop 'closed' for namaaz

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Salman Al-Farsi, a prominent figure in Islam, is enshrined in the capital city of Baghdad, located less than two hours away from Kerbala. The shrines of Mohammed and Ibrahim, youths who were martyred during the occurrence of the unfortunate events of Kerbala, also lie in this city.

A portrait depicting the assassination of Mohammed and Ibrahim

Another city not more than a two-hour drive away from Kerbala is Najaf, where the shrine of Imam Ali, the father of Imam Hussain, rests. An undefeatable warrior and an embodiment of wisdom, Imam Ali was feared among foes and revered among friends. His aphorisms remain a source of inspiration today.

The shrine of Imam Ali

In the city of Kufa, a bevy of Imam Ali’s followers pay their homage to the mihrab at Masjid Al-Kufa, the very mosque where Imam Ali was assassinated iniquitously. Finding it impossible to defeat him in battle, Imam Ali was attacked from behind with a poisoned sword in his mihrab while he was indulged in namaaz.

Majid Al-Kufa

Imam Ali's mihrab

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Our journey to Iraq was a quest for faith, a means to extirpate sins, and to heal spiritually. It was a step backward into the past before stepping forward into our adult lives.

Or rather, perhaps it was sealing our lives in an envelope of fate and letting them be.

- Hussain