For the Memory of Zamzam

FOR THE MEMORY OF ZAMZAM,

WILL YOU MARRY ME?

By Ninie G. Syarikin

I left Washington with my chest

laden with my abundant love to you.

Like a good neighbor,

you came to wish us ‘Bon Voyage’

and said: “Please call my name there,”

to which I replied: “We will,”

that couldn’t be more truthful than

my answers to all similar requests

from our other friends.

I couldn’t really express myself in words,

when I saw you, two men,

were shaking hands.

One was who had raised and shaped me,

and the other was whom I dreamt

to spend the rest of my life with.

“I wish you a good and safe trip.

May your hajj be accepted and

that you will enjoy your journey,”

you said to my father,

looking straight at his eyes more tenderly,

as I somewhat knew

your gentle nature would.

“Terima kasih. Insya Allah,

Anda juga akan segera menyusul.”

“Thank you. Insha Allah,

you will also follow suit soon,”

my father responded,

looking straight into your eyes more firmly,

as I knew very well

his solid character would,

while I was standing by you both,

as the interpreter.

I had almost betrayed myself,

and wanted to declare:

‘I love you; I have always loved you.’

But, I got tongue-tied!

How could I possibly make such

a declaration in such a narrow time

and space, without shocking you?

Without a preamble??

And yet, hadn’t I been torn for

many a nights about revealing

my long hidden affection to you:

now or after hajj?

I’d been tempted to ask you:

‘If I perished in the Holy Land,

would you care for my children?’

But, again, my tongue failed me.

“Righteousness is not turning your faces

towards the East or the West.

Righteous are those who believe in God,

the Last Day, the Angels, the Scripture,

and the Prophets;

and who give their wealth cheerfully,

to the relatives, the orphans, . . . . . “

“They ask you about giving; say:

‘The charity you give shall go to the parents,

the relatives, the orphans, . . . . . ‘ “

“They donate their favorite food

to the poor, the orphan, . . . . . “

“The rights of orphaned boys

must also be protected.

You shall treat the orphans equitably.

Whatever good you do,

God is fully aware thereof."

“Do you know who really rejects the faith?

That is the one who mistreats the orphans.”

And, so,

after a long contemplation,

I resolved that

I must come back for you all.

I was going away for

a life time journey, and didn’t know

if I would come back.

Hajj is a journey of mystery;

a journey to visit the House of God.

Often times pilgrims return to

their homeland;

but sometimes, they die as ‘syuhada’

in the Holy Land.

They come to Makkah as guests of Allah,

and it is He alone who decides

whether to keep or let them go.

If I came back,

I’d declare my love to you.

If I didn’t,

my love would be buried

without your knowledge.

So, with the utterance of:

“Bismillahi tawakkaltu ‘alallahi lahawla

walaquwwata illa billahil ‘aliyyil ‘azim,”

“In the name of Allah,

I put my trust in Him,

and that there is no power

except by His will,” I set sail.

Along the journey,

there was no one moment

that I was without you.

Each time I recited the talbiyah:

"Labbayk Allahumma Labbayk,

Labbayk la syarika laka Labbayk!”

“I have come to respond to

Your call, ya, Allah! Here I am!”

it was as if I was responding to

Allah’s call for both of us.

In my spirit,

you were by my side all the time,

that the sometimes difficult journey

became tolerable because of

the pleasant thoughts about you,

and of the great anticipation

to be able to pour out

my heart, hope and desire to Allah

when I kneeled under

the shadow of the Ka’bah.

“Oh, my Lord!

Open to me the doors of Your Mercy.”

In the shadow of the Ka’bah,

I told Allah that

‘I love you; I have always loved you.’

Oh, pardon me, my Lord, my Maker!

Need I tell Thee anything at all,

as though Thou needed to be told.

Thou art the Most Knowing of

the softest vibes

in the deepest depth of heart,

the Most Hearing of the merest whisper,

the All-Aware of the most silent

and unsaid secrets.

Pardon me, ya, Allah,

in conversing to Thee

in my human tongue,

the only language I knew and learned.

My eyes were drowned in tears,

my chest was shaking with sobs,

and my heart was trembling hard

trying to contain my overflowing emotion.

Never had I felt so earnest as this

Never had I put so much hope as this

Never had I been so desperate as this.

While gliding with all other pilgrims

making the tawaf and reciting the talbiyah:

"Labbayk Allahumma Labbayk,

Labbayk la syarika laka Labbayk!”

“I have come to respond to

Your call, ya, Allah! Here I am!”

it was as if I was responding to

Allah’s call for both of us.

In all spots at the Masjidil Haram

where and when I happened to stop to

perform my salat,

I would remember you in my tranquility.

I would call out your name,

as you had wished,

in whisper:

“Ya, Allah!

Please invite the man I love

to be Your honored guest

in this Baitullah,

sooner than later!”

The wailing of the Mu’azzin

summoning the pilgrims to pray

penetrated my heart so deeply that

it brought tears to my eyes,

and made me wish so hard that

you had been here with me

enjoying and savoring

all this magnificent and majestic sight.

There was a sea of white

surrounding me,

a number of oceans,

plus the limitless sky

between you and me,

and an unutterable longing for you

inside me;

but your presence I sensed so near

when in my last sujud,

with full of hope and expectation,

I mentioned your name dearly,

very dearly,

and begged Allah humbly,

so humbly,

to convey my love to you.

Did you feel it then?

Did you feel connected to me?

Did you have me in your dream?

Did you see me in your vision?

Did you hear me calling out

your name in the wind?

Did you remember me?

Did you daydream me?

Did you miss me?

Did you think of me?

Did you look for me?

Did you wait for me?

Did you hope that I would come back?

Did you pray for my safe return?

Did you expect my arrival?

I wonder!

During my shopping rounds in

Makkah and Jeddah,

I vied all the possible souvenirs

to bring especially for you.

The colorful ‘tasbih,’

the beautiful ‘sajadah,’

the exotic velvet wall decorations,

while bearing in my mind

very alertly and cautiously

that there wouldn’t be enough money

in the world

to buy a gift for you;

to match the height,

the depth,

the length,

and the width of my love to you,

when it naturally dawned on me,

that what best gift to bring,

but the water of zamzam?

The substance that couldn’t be found

anywhere else on earth,

but here,

in this desert town?

And, so, I decided to bring the zamzam

for you and my children.

However,

it turned out not as easy as it sounded.

The craze of the pilgrims towards

that very water

discouraged me to the core.

They seemed to want to monopolize

wherever the source of the water exists.

In its well down the earth,

in the line of faucets on every floor of

the Masjidil Haram,

or in the barrels in the center of

each mosque floor.

They all looked insatiable,

couldn’t get enough to satisfy

their thirst or desire.

Or, might it be greed?

In its mildest form?

They were filling their numberless bottles

and containers, and secured them.

Then they would fill the chained cups

to the faucets,

and drink from them passionately

and pour out the zamzam

on the crown of their heads,

while at the same time,

make their ‘wudhu’ sparingly

until they soaked all their garments,

as if oblivious of the long line

behind them.

And, very soon, a gleam of satisfaction

and relief enveloped them!

Masya Allah!!

May they continue to be satisfied

in their life!!!

I approached one of them, and asked:

“Does zamzam mean a lot to you?”

to which I was replied:

“Absolutely, Sister!

I have taken enough even to keep it

in my special storage, and

have it sprinkled on my jenazah

in the future.”

Such powerful is the effect of zamzam!!

From day to day,

I kept postponing to take the zamzam,

hoping that the next day

the walls of pilgrims would be thinning

so that I could take my turn to fill my bottle.

But that didn’t happen,

and I began to panic,

as the time of our pilgrimage

was coming to an end.

Until the last day we were there

during the ‘Asr time

zamzam springs were packed with people.

My parents and I

moved from floor to floor

in the hope of finding less pilgrims

on the higher level,

and yet, until we reached

the last and top floor of the masjid,

the scene remained very much the same.

I had become desperate

and got into despair,

when approaching Maghrib,

the situation got even worse.

The pilgrims were standing

rows upon rows covering

the line of the zamzam faucets

that the image looked like

a military barricade forming a fortress.

Subhanallah! Glory be to God!

I tried to penetrate the barricade,

but I seemed to be too frail

to infiltrate the blockade

that I couldn’t even see

the protected object:

the sacred zamzam.

Lamenting my nasib and annoyed

to not know who to blame,

I retreated from

the ‘impossible mission,’

while the wail of the Muazzin

was heard high echoing the adzan:

“Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar!

Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar!

Asyhadu Alla ila ha illallah!

Asyhadu anna Muhammadar Rasulullah!

Hayya 'alas salah!

Hayya 'alal falah!

Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar!

La ilaaha illallah.”

“God is Great, God is Great!

God is Great, God is Great!

There is no God, but Allah!

And Muhammad is the Messenger of Allah!

Come to prayer!

Come to Victory!

God is Great, God is Great!

There is no God, but Allah!”

reverberating and shaking

the skies of which without pillars.

Allah Al-‘Azim, Allah Al-‘Ali, Allah Al-Muta’ali!

The Magnificent, the Highest, the Supreme One!

“God is He Who raised the heavens

without any pillars that you can see;

is firmly established on

the Throne of Authority.”

I looked up and was spellbound!

The vast skies, azure,

blending with the royal colors of sunset,

were adorned with a large spread of birds

flapping their wings

flying to one direction,

as if heading home for their nests,

after a long, productive, and tiring day,

while busily and noisily chirping to each other:

“Let’s hurry home,

so as not to miss our Maghrib.”

I was astonished.

Even birds were obeying the call of prayer;

and so were the rocky mountains

surrounding Makkah

that I saw remotely from my position,

as if bowing to their Creator

in their dimly twilight shadows.

I quickly realized that the iqamah

had taken over the adzan:

“Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar!

Asyhadu Alla ila ha illallah!

Asyhadu anna Muhammadar Rasulullah!

Hayya 'alas salah!

Hayya 'alal falah!

Qodqomatissalah,

Qodqomatissalah.

Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar!

La ilaaha illallah.”

“God is Great, God is Great!

There is no God, but Allah!

And Muhammad is the Messenger of Allah!

Come to prayer!

Come to Victory!

The prayer has begun.

God is Great, God is Great!

There is no God, but Allah!”

I immediately hurried to return to my spot,

taking to the wall to do the tayammum,

then facing the qiblah to join the prayer.

“A’udzu billaah iminasy syaitaan irrajiim

Bismillaah irrahmaan irrahiim

Alhamdulillaah irabbil ‘aalamiin

Arrahmaan irrahiim

Maalikiyaw middiin

Iyyaa kana’ buduu wa iyyaa kanasta’iin

Ihdinas siraat almustaqiim

Siraat alladzii na an’amta’alaihim

Ghairil maghduu bi’alaihim

Waladhdhaalliin

Aamiin”

“I seek refuge in Allah from the Satan

which was accursed.

In the name of Allah,

Most Gracious, Most Merciful.

Praise be to God,

The Cherisher and Sustainer of the Worlds;

Most Gracious, Most Merciful;

Master of the Day of Judgement.

Thee do we worship,

And Thine aid we seek.

Show us the straight way,

The way of those on whom

Thou hast bestowed Thy Grace,

Those whose (portion) is not wrath,

And who go not astray.

Amen.”

“Bismillaah irrahmaan irrahiim

Qulhuwallaahu Ahad

Allaah ussamad

Lamyalid walamyuulad

Walamyakullahu kufuwan Ahad”

“In the name of Allah,

Most Gracious, Most Merciful.

Say: He is God, the One and Only;

God, the Eternal, Absolute;

He begetteth not, nor is He begotten;

And there is none like unto Him.”

Then, together with other pilgrims,

one in millions,

as well as in probably billions and

zillions of other creatures of Allah

that I might have failed to vision

with my naked eyes

-- seen and unseen,

big and tiny,

spatial and dimensionless --,

the jinns, the malaikahs,

the sun, the moon, the stars, the planets,

the birds, the ants, the tamar trees,

the hills and the mountains,

I bowed.

Oh, Allah!

The only Deity worthy of worship.

Here, I am, with all my thoughts,

bowing to Thee in obedience,

Subhaanarabbiyal ‘aziim.

Glory be to Allah, The Supreme.

“To Him belongs every being

in the heavens and the earth;

all are devoutly obedient to Him.”

Then, again, with other pilgrims,

one in millions,

as well as in probably billions and

zillions of other creatures of Allah

that I might have failed to vision

with my naked eyes

-- seen and unseen,

big and tiny,

spatial and dimensionless --,

the jinns, the malaikahs,

the galaxies, the beasts, the volcanoes,

the hurricanes, the lambs, the flowers,

the tin and zaitun trees,

the lakes and the oceans,

I prostrated.

Oh, Allah!

The only Deity worthy of worship.

Here, I am, with all my body and soul,

prostrating to Thee in humility,

Subhaanarabbiyal ‘a’laa.

Glory be to Allah, The Most High.

“Had We sent down this Qur’an on a mountain,

verily, you would have seen it humble itself

and cleave asunder for fear of God.

Such are the similitudes which We propound

to mankind that they may reflect.”

When we completed our Maghrib prayer,

I could see the sea of tranquility

embracing all pilgrims who seemed

to be fixed sitting cross-legged

in their positions.

Many were saying their dzikir

while fingering their tasbih

with their eyes half-closed,

their heads nodding up and down

and their bodies moving

following the rhythm.

Subhanallah! 33x

Alhamdulillah! 33x

Allahu Akbar! 33x

Astaghfirullah! 33x

Several were raising their hands skyward

making du’a;

some were quietly performing their nafl;

few were reciting the Qur’an,

and others were simply sitting still

enjoying the rare silence

and the glow of lights at dusk

brimming generously surrounding the Al-Haram

with the tall handsome minarets

protruding daringly against the dark sky,

firmly and majestically,

like my image and fantasy

in the Arabian stories of the

“One Thousand and One Nights.”

It was then that it occurred to me,

that at this very hour,

the water of zamzam

must be deserted by the pilgrims.

Almost shocked in realization,

I held my breath,

reached out to my two big bottles,

got up and dragged myself unobtrusively,

as if fearing that my fellow hujjaj

might follow me behind.

I, then, hurried my steps towards the faucets,

and, although it perplexed me to find

a few pilgrims already in there,

I felt relieved,

since the mission was possible.

I finally merely accepted the fact that

the zamzam water would never be deserted,

just as it could never get dry in the desert,

under the merciless sun.

I steeled my intention to bring the water

for you and my children,

I smiled persuasively at those pilgrims,

I nodded my head trying to win their sympathy

I politely addressed them to give in and

make way for me:

“May I take turn, Brothers?”

for which they stepped aside,

and pleasantly murmured:

“Tafadhdhal, ya, Ukhti,”

for which I wasted no time to fill my bottles,

as well as treated myself to a drink or two.

Then, I hurried back to my spot,

gave the filled bottles to my mother to keep,

and fetched two other empty bottles

and went back to the faucets.

It was as relatively easy as my first trip,

Alhamdulillah! I thank to Allah!

But by the time the mission accomplished,

I saw waves of pilgrims starting to glide

towards me.

I immediately left to avoid the encounter,

and let them take their turns.

Alhamdulillah wa syukrulillah!

I praise Allah, the Lord of the Universe,

that I had succeeded in obtaining the zamzam

in the nick of time,

at the end of our ziyarah,

that I now was able to bring the special water

for my children with pride,

because of my love to you,

and that I was able to bring it

as a souvenir from Makkah for you

as a declaration of my love to you.

Alhamdulillaah irabbil ‘aalamiin!

All praise is due to Allah,

the Lord of the Universe!

Hadn’t it been for my remembrance of you,

I wouldn’t have gone extra miles

to acquire the sacred water.

Hadn’t it been for my affection to you,

I wouldn’t have bothered to push myself through

to reach the zamzam.

As much as I cherished the notion of

staying in the Holy Land,

I wouldn’t want to extend my stay any longer.