Travel Diaries: Beyond the Pilgrimage w/ Muftī Azeemuddin Ahmed | The Compass Ep #25 | 06/01

Opening Supplications

Introduction: A Blessed Return from Ḥajj

الحمد لله. I'm so blessed to be here today with all of you back in the community. With me is Mawlānā Sulaiman Mahmoud, our Imām here, and we just met right now — الحمد لله — both of us came back from Ḥajj today. Although we didn't meet each other there at all in these past 10 to 11 days, الحمد لله we were able to arrive back this afternoon here in Chicago.

Tonight's session will be dedicated to just sharing — for me asking him and for him asking me — our experiences from this year's Ḥajj. The purpose of that, of course, is for all of us here to hopefully take some lessons and benefit from some experience, some incident or story that Allah inspires us to share, so we benefit and the audience benefits.

And number two, additionally, to hopefully create a continuous thirst, desire, and encouragement — for those who have never been, and for those who have been — to continuously have this burning desire to go back, to visit the House of Allah, and to visit the resting place of the Prophet ﷺ. So this is what we hope for. Next year's Ḥajj — the planning begins today. That should not start in December; it needs to start from today. Hopefully tonight's session will be leading into that part as well.

The Lesson of Not Feeling Entitled

Today I was speaking to a student and something came to my mind, and I shared it with him. SubhanAllah, we ended up speaking for quite some time. I told him that in Ḥajj we are constantly being reminded by everybody — and we reminded people and people reminded us — that do not regard Ḥajj to be your entitlement. Don't regard yourself to be deserving of Ḥajj. Don't think that because you paid an amount of money, which happens to be quite a large sum, that you all of a sudden now deserve some type of service from everybody, and everyone needs to be standing for you and taking care of your needs.

No matter how much you pay, there are always going to be ups and downs, there are going to be hiccups. But most importantly, do not think that you're here because you have money or because you paid money. There are people who have loads more wealth, but not only have they never come, they don't even have a desire to come. So us being present in Ḥajj, and having the desire to be present in Ḥajj, is completely the tawfīq and the blessing of Allah.

And for that excitement that you have for Ḥajj and the desire to be there — if you want that to be present — you need to constantly be thankful and grateful to Allah, and never for a moment say something which would make it seem that you're doing a favour to somebody by coming. Instead, constantly tell yourself: I don't deserve to be here. Rather, based on my actions, I shouldn't be here. But Allah, for some reason out of His infinite mercy, has allowed me to be here. So I want to make sure I don't do anything which will remove me from being here, or worse yet, will become a means of my entire Ḥajj being rejected — even though physically I go through the motions, but in the book of deeds it is not accepted because of something I may say or do that is displeasing to Allah.

This idea of not feeling entitled and being humble about what we have is a huge lesson — and it applies even here, right now, praying Ṣalāt al-Maghrib and attending this session. You're not sitting here because you have nothing better to do. No — you're here because Allah has allowed you to be here. Wallahi, this is so true. Whether you're here for ʿAṣr, or not here for ʿAṣr — it's because Allah either allowed you or didn't allow you. Every single deed is like that.

It's not just for Ḥajj — Ḥajj is very significant — but for every single deed we have to remind ourselves: let me be thankful and excited that Allah is allowing me to do this. Whether that's doing my tasbīḥāt after Ṣalāt, reading Sūrat al-Mulk tonight, reading my evening duʿās, raising my hands and making duʿā after Farḍ Ṣalāt, reading my Awwābīn, performing my Awwābīn Ṣalāt, giving some ṣadaqah on the way out — if I'm doing these good deeds, I'm doing it because Allah is allowing me to do it. I should not feel that this is a standard procedure. Allah may very well take this tawfīq away from me.

So that's the lesson Ḥajj gave me, and it's a reminder for all of us: for every good deed, just be extremely grateful and thankful for whatever good you're doing. And constantly keep on asking Allah for protection from doing something which would anger Him and deprive us from having the tawfīq to continue doing good.

Mawlānā Sulaiman's Reflections: The Khayr of the Ummah

One of the key take-home messages of Ḥajj for me is always the hope — the khayr — that is left in the Ummah of the Prophet ﷺ. Many a time we speak about the fitna, the trials, all the dark air and all the problems that we see around us. And rightfully so — we need to speak about these things.

Ḥudhayfa رضي الله عنه used to say: people would come and they would ask the Prophet ﷺ about good things — everyone wants to hear good news, glad tidings. He said: I would come and I would ask the Prophet ﷺ about fitnas, about bad things that are going to afflict the Ummah — not just to scare myself and to scare other people, but so that he would have the means to protect himself. So we need to speak about the fitan that will grip this Ummah from time to time, but that has to be balanced out. We also need to take out time when we speak about the khayr, the goodness, that is still left in the Ummah of the Prophet ﷺ.

I think Ḥajj is a powerful reminder of that. When we see so much khayr, so much goodness, which is still left in the Ummah — one part of that is how you see hundreds of people pushing the wheelchairs of their elderly parents every single year through the heat. Many of these ḥujjāj who come from poorer countries — they don't have trains, they don't have buses to take them from Makkah to Minā to ʿArafāt to Muzdalifah. They're walking the whole thing — not by choice, but forced to, they have no other option. And now when they come with their elderly parents, what else are they going to do? They have to push their wheelchairs from Makkah all the way to Minā, to ʿArafāt, to Muzdalifah — miles and miles, hours and hours in the hot sun. And seeing that always gives me so much hope in the Ummah of the Prophet ﷺ.

Serving One's Mother: A Profound Lesson

It also creates this desire: I wish I could also take my parents like this. I wish I could also serve my parents the way these individuals are serving their parents. Alḥamdulillāh, Allah's Raḥma, Allah's Faḍl — after many years of asking Allah, finally this year He gave me the opportunity of going with my mother for the journey of Ḥajj. It brought me so much happiness, so much joy to take her. The whole time I was just with her. Since we were saying we didn't meet, I didn't really meet anyone besides those who were in my tent. The whole time I was just there for the khidmah of my mother. Alḥamdulillāh, that brought a lot of happiness, a lot of joy to me.

But at the same time, there is also this feeling that I didn't do enough. I didn't serve her the way that I should have served her.

Imām Bukhārī رحمه الله in his Al-Adab al-Mufrad mentions — one of the first ḥadīths in the Kitāb is the ḥadīth of ʿAbdullāh ibn ʿUmar رضي الله عنهما. When ʿAbdullāh ibn ʿUmar saw one person who had come from Yemen — he had come carrying his mother all the way from Yemen, and through all the manāsik he was carrying his mother on his back. They didn't have wheelchairs at that time, they didn't have scooters and all the things you have today. So he's just carrying his mother on his back, and he's reciting this line of poetry:

He said: You know a camel — it carries a person, but then a camel needs rest. You can't overwork the camel; you have to make sure it rests, you have to make sure you feed the camel, you give it water to drink, otherwise the camel is going to burn out. He said: I am like a camel for my mother, but the difference is — I'm not going to burn out. I will work 24/7 around the clock to serve my mom. I will continue carrying her.

So he's carrying his mother, and he comes to ʿAbdullāh ibn ʿUmar and says: Ibn ʿUmar, I came with my mother from Yemen. I've been taking care of her. I took her through all the manāsik of Ḥajj, carrying her on my back. Do you think I have compensated her? For all the khidmah she did for me — is this compensation?

ʿAbdullāh ibn ʿUmar said: You know that one sigh that your mother gave when she was carrying you, when she was giving birth to you and taking care of you — just that one sigh, the slightest amount of pain that she went through — you haven't even compensated her for that.

So today, subhānAllāh, we're not carrying our parents through Ḥajj. But whatever little khidmah we can do — may Allah accept that. The very least that we can do, if we have parents who are alive, who are elderly, who are in need of our support, is to take our time and go with them for Ḥajj.

It pains me when you see these elderly people in the group — in their 60s, 70s, sometimes male, sometimes female — and they're coming all alone for Ḥajj. They have no one. They need a wheelchair, there's no one to push them. They need somebody to pick up their bags from the carousel at the airport, there's no one to even help them out. They're all alone. Their children are not there with them.

It's painful. And likewise, if our parents have passed away — one of the greatest gifts that we can give them is to go and do Ḥajj on their behalf, if they had not yet completed their Ḥajj.

You know, the brother in the tent in Minā — who was right in front of me — he said: I came for Ḥajj in 2024, and then 2025, and then this year 2026. In 2024 I came and I performed my farḍ Ḥajj. Both my parents have passed on — my father and my mother — and neither one of them performed Ḥajj. So I came back in 2025 and I performed Ḥajj on behalf of my father. I came this year and I performed Ḥajj on behalf of my mother. I have many other relatives who also passed away and they never performed Ḥajj. I have niyyah, inshāAllāh, as long as Allah continues to call me every year, I'll come, and on behalf of one of these individuals I'll perform Ḥajj.

This is what we're talking about — that Ḥajj shows us the khayr, the goodness, that is left in the Ummah of Rasūlullāh ﷺ.

The True Spirit of Service

MāshāAllāh, JazākAllāh khayr — powerful. One thing that beautifully explains why carrying her on your back all the way from Yemen does not compensate for what she did for you: while your mother was raising you, she kept on begging and wishing Allah would put barakah in your life and increase you. Every mother, no matter how sick her child is, always asks: yā Allah, increase my son's or daughter's life — even to the extent of saying: if years had to be chosen, I'll give my years to him or her.

But while you served your mother — just like she served you, meaning carrying on the back, washing after her, feeding her, you did the same things — the big difference is: she did it for you while she was begging Allah to increase you in your life. And you served her while hoping that this burden would be taken away from you.

He hit the nail on the head subhānAllāh. While you served her, you're hoping that by your mawt — you know, alḥamdulillāh it's good — but how long am I going to take care of this? And she, on the other hand, was hoping she could continue doing this for you, continue taking care of you.

And I see this in parents who have disabled children, special needs children. ʿAjīb — you know the level of maḥabbah that these parents have. And they feel — rightfully so — that this autistic child, or this special needs child, is my gateway to Jannah. And that's the same mentality that children need to have regarding their elderly parents — especially those who have various physical needs, or emotional and psychological needs. Right now it's difficult, but subhānAllāh, this is my key to Jannah.

Just this morning, the brother who picked me up from the airport — may Allah reward him immensely — he was mentioning about somebody he went to go visit yesterday. He said that that brother is serving his father who has advanced Alzheimer's. In just 15 minutes there, the father might have asked him 20 times what his name was and what his name means. And the son subhānAllāh — he takes care of his father in this state for many years. The father doesn't even remember he needs to use the restroom, nothing.

Wallahi, I said: I'm so envious of the fact that Allah has enabled this son, this brother, to quietly and with a smile do this level of khidmah. It's true. It's amazing. A person can't handle this for one minute — someone asks you your name 7 or 8 or 10 times in one minute, you're going to go crazy. But to do this for years — from feeding them to taking them to the bathroom, answering again and again, and then your own son doesn't recognize you — you know how tough that is? You sat there, took him to the bathroom, took care of him, and then he comes back and says: Who are you? Where are you from?

SubhānAllāh, this is tawfīq from Allah. And I second what Mawlānā Sulaiman mentioned — I feel so humbled and I genuinely belittle myself in Ḥajj when I see what you're telling me and what we're saying here. You see people — one is pushing someone's wheelchair — but what about those who are pushing uphill? And not even for their own family member.

I found out in my group: a husband and wife came back after many hours at the tent. What happened? They found one lady in a wheelchair after Jamārāt, just sitting there alone, no idea, lost, nobody with her. They took her all the way from Jamārāt, all the way, found her location in ʿAzīziyyah, dropped her off, and then came back to Minā. Now I'm thinking — the level of tawfīq that you get to take someone else's mother, someone else's father, in 115 degree heat, through the crowds, to make the effort to find the location, drop them off, and come back.

And there was one brother — a local brother who lives there — who told me: Last year I was in Ḥajj, and the heat was so intense that people were collapsing. Right in front of my tent, a lady collapsed. I picked her up, rushed her quickly to a clinic, got her on the drip. SubhānAllāh — she barely made it, but she made it. They were from Kashmir. Recently I got a phone call from the husband just thanking me — 'SubhānAllāh, you were there and you saved my wife's life, otherwise she would never have made it. We don't know how to thank you.' I said: 'No, the fact that you went back and you're even calling me — for me, that's all I did it for. I need that duʿā.'

This is something we need to ask Allah for tawfīq — that He makes us people of service to humanity. Allah will continue to serve a servant as long as he continues to serve the creation.

Serving the Community and the Lesson of Imam Burnout

I was with Imām Zaid a couple of weeks ago and many other ʿulamā. They were speaking about burnout — imām burnout. It was an imāms' conference and they were talking about emotional burnout. Some of them had genuine stories — people don't understand that imāms are just like you. If your son is giving you problems, or your spouse has issues with you, or your parents have issues with you, or you're financially going through some difficulty — the imām is not someone who is superhuman. He goes through the exact same things. But what happens is that people forget that, and so when the imām is constantly serving the needs of the community, no one ever comes and asks: How are you doing?

At the end of this very sober conversation, Imām Zaid was walking by and he told me: Allah takes care of a servant as long as he takes care of His creation. Meaning: don't give up. Don't let this burnout discussion burn you out. Make sure you continue to serve with ikhlāṣ, and Allah will take care of your needs.

This is something very true — the barakah and the blessing that comes with serving the Ummah is outstanding.

Walking Ḥajj: Its Virtues and Logistics

You might be wondering: why even walk through Ḥajj? What's the point? Why not just hop on the bus? So you see, in the āyah of the Qurʾān in Sūrat al-Ḥajj, Allah mentions:

When Ibrāhīm عليه السلام made the call — Allah told him to invite people to come and perform Ḥajj. He said: O Allah, I am here in this barren desert, there is nothing around. How is my voice going to reach all of these people? Allah told him: O Ibrāhīm, you just make the call, and I will deliver your sentiments throughout the entire world. So he got up and he made the call:

O people, Allah has made Ḥajj mandatory upon you, so come perform Ḥajj. And Allah took his call and delivered it all across the world — up until today, everyone who is performing Ḥajj is responding to that call of Ibrāhīm عليه السلام. And Allah promised him that people will come — رِجَالًا وَعَلَىٰ كُلِّ ضَامِرٍ — they will come walking, and they will come upon every conveyance as well.

Imām Qurṭubī رحمه الله mentions: if you look at the order here, Allah mentions رِجَالًا before وَعَلَىٰ كُلِّ ضَامِرٍ. So he said this is a subtle indication of the afḍaliyyah — the virtue of performing a walking Ḥajj over that of a riding Ḥajj.

Number two: there is a narration of the Prophet ﷺ in Ṭabarānī, that a person who walks through Ḥajj — for every step he will get 700 rewards, and that will be multiplied by the reward of the Ḥaram. The reward of the Ḥaram is that you get 100,000 virtues — whatever deed you perform is multiplied by 100,000 — any deed, any action that you perform within the ḥudūd of the Ḥaram, the boundaries of the Ḥaram. So for every step you get 700 × 100,000 = 70 million. 70 million ḥasanāt for every step that you take throughout the journey of Ḥajj if you're performing it walking.

Third: ʿAbdullāh ibn ʿAbbās رضي الله عنهما, as he was passing away — that great Ṣaḥābī — he told his children: There is one thing that I regret in my life. They asked: What is that? He said: In my entire life, I never got the opportunity of performing a walking Ḥajj. This is my one regret in life.

And fourth: if you walk through Ḥajj today, you get to do everything as the Prophet ﷺ did it. If you're on the buses, it's impossible — because you leave with the group, you go with the group. Sometimes you're supposed to get to Minā on the 8th sometime between Fajr and Ẓuhr, but sometimes the buses are delayed and you get there later in the afternoon. Sometimes for ʿArafāt they take you well before Fajr in the night itself. So if you are walking through Ḥajj, you are in control of your schedule, and you get to depart and arrive at each place precisely as Nabī ﷺ did it. That's another advantage of walking Ḥajj.

Ṣabr: The Principle of Ḥajj

One principle of Ḥajj is aṣ-ṣabr — patience. One lesson you have to learn through Ḥajj is patience: just waiting, being patient. That's why you hear all the Ḥaram guards and all the police and the army — the one thing that they're shouting at every Ḥājjī is: Ṣabr yā Ḥājj! Ṣabr yā Ḥājj! Just be patient. Everyone's in a rush, there are millions of people, there is a lot of traffic — zaḥma, zaḥma — you just have to wait.

Whether you're walking or whether you're riding, you will have to practice ṣabr. But it's a different type of ṣabr. When you're walking, you're just walking — you're not standing in lines waiting for hours for a bus. But of course you have the ṣabr of walking, and it's not easy to walk 5, 6, 7 miles in one shot — especially us Americans, who generally speaking walk from the garage to the sofa.

In terms of walking being "illegal" — many Ḥajj guides don't like when you walk through Ḥajj because it's a liability for them. If something happens to you — if you pass away on the way — then they can be held responsible. One of the students from here who wanted to walk this year: one of the Ḥajj guides held him up for 2 hours trying to convince him not to walk. MāshāAllāh, the student was so persistent that even after 2 hours he still decided: No, I still want to go walking through Ḥajj.

Anyway, that is a decision that a person has to make — of course, if somebody is elderly or sick, then definitely that's not something advisable. If somebody is young and they've trained for it and they're ready and up for the challenge, then alḥamdulillāh, bismillāh — go for it. It is a very, very enjoyable experience, walking through the manāsik. And you're not alone at all — at every single point, of course Allah is with you, and you have millions of people with you.

This is one thing I realized two years ago when I was walking through it: the majority of the Ummah is walking through Ḥajj. They're not going on the trains, they're not going on the buses — and they don't even have access to that. They're walking. So everywhere you walk — whether it's from Makkah to Minā, from Minā to ʿArafāt, from ʿArafāt to Muzdalifah — in front of you, all you can see is people. Behind you, all you can see is people. To your right, to your left — everywhere is just people. So it's so beautiful that you're part of this entire huge Ummah, everyone walking together. And you walk at the pace of the Ummah — you want to run, it doesn't matter how fast you normally walk, over there there are people in front and people behind, you have to walk at the pace of the Ummah.

Mujāhadah, Luxury, and the Lion of Rūmī

JazākAllāh for sharing those beautiful insights on the wisdom of walking Ḥajj. I think it's very important — when you compare people who do outdoor activities, camping, hiking, mountain climbing, going outdoors and pitching up a tent in the middle of nowhere and fending for themselves for a couple of weeks — this is like an American pastime. It's great. But the level of mujāhadah required in this might even be less than that. Yet there's a mindset that: that's cool, that's enjoyable, that's enviable — and all of a sudden walking Ḥajj becomes very burdensome.

The key thing — as Mawlānā said so beautifully — is that especially if this is the one time Allah is allowing us to go, whether we walk or don't walk, the key thing is to make sure that we follow the Sunnah at every nook and corner, every turn of Ḥajj. And right now it's sad to see — but every year there's a push to water it down, make it easier and easier, and in the process of that: It's a little bit too hot, there are too many people — which is not even true. Every year it is getting cooler than the previous year, and every year there are also fewer people than pre-COVID times — million-plus fewer. It's very visible. It's very obvious. You look at the outside of the Ḥaram and it's empty, empty — like wait, is this real, or does it look like a normal ʿUmrah?

So to now use that as an excuse — Can we do Ramī after Fajr? Can we do Ramī before Fajr? — everything is slowly finding some leeway, in some opinion, somewhere in some Madhhab, to be able to do things before the time or after the time.

You know the story that ʿAllāmah Rūmī writes in the Mathnawī — about the person who went to the tattoo parlor. He went to the tattoo parlor and said he wanted a lion tattooed on his back. The artist said: Okay, sit down, take off your shirt, lie down, and I'll get to work. He brought out his needles and his ink and poked him — it hurt. The man yelled. The artist said: I just started the tattoo of a lion. The man said: What are you doing right now? The artist said: I'm making a nice beautiful tail for your lion. He said: My lion is a different type of lion — it's got a small little tail. Just leave it.

He was poked again — it hurt a lot. He asked: What are you doing right now? The artist said: I'm making a nice front leg and paw. He said: My lion — the poor thing — he got into a fight in the jungle and he lost one foot, one leg. Poked him again, he screamed again. He said: What's this? The artist replied: I'm making a nice beautiful mane. He said: No — this is a female lion, they don't have a mane. He kicked him off the table and said: Go from here — you can't take any pain and you want to come here and ask for a tattoo of a lion!

Imām Rūmī says here: this is the Muslim who doesn't want to do any mujāhadah, any sacrifice in the Deen. He wants to go to Jannah for free. Anything asked of him, he says: No, this is too much. Okay — then go. The path towards Jannah, the path to Allah, is filled with difficulty and sacrifice.

Honestly, I feel like we — the Western Muslim — we need this lesson a lot. We should be ashamed. I should be ashamed of myself when I look at the rest of the world. We're so, so spoiled, so much luxury. And on top of that, it's a mindset issue that we need to fix.

Muzdalifah: The Night of Reality

I was moved by something at Muzdalifah. I said to my friends — it's an interesting night — and we started talking about what everyone had packed. Because Muzdalifah is a wake-up call, no matter what you packed. You're on the ground — zero. Above you is the stars, below you is the stones. It's a sea of people. You cannot, I kid you not, literally see the floor — everyone is touching one another, and there are still hundreds who don't have a spot. It's wild.

I would say Muzdalifah is the only remaining remnant of old Ḥajj from the packages that go from here. ʿArafāt doesn't feel like ʿArafāt before. Minā doesn't feel like Minā anymore. The Ḥaram doesn't feel like it used to. But Muzdalifah — māshāAllāh — still retains its original flavor.

So the brothers pulled out their toiletry bags and were telling me what their WhatsApp groups — that their wives are on — said to buy. And I'm watching all of this. They have three types of hand creams, three types of soaps, multiple types of towels, all within this $50 handbag. They said: Sheikh, you wanna try it? We haven't even opened it yet — Ḥajj is finished! So they pulled out a paper soap — I've never heard of something like this before. It literally is a thin piece of paper. You put it in your hand, put a little bit of water, and it becomes soap. Pretty cool.

Then a toilet seat cover — thin one. Then a towel that fits in the palm of your hand. Then another brother said: No, my wife got this other one — 2 by 2 inch — you put water on it and it becomes a full bath towel. Then you have different types of sunscreens, different types of Vaselines, different types of lip balms — the list goes on. And all of them said: We never even used any of these things once.

I reflected on this. I was thinking: this is what can happen on the Day of Judgment. You come packing with so many things to the Ākhirah and think more is good. No — it's not. Because when you're carrying and walking from ʿArafāt to Muzdalifah — even those of us who went on a train still had a 40-minute walk — the more you have the heavier it gets.

And what people realized in Ḥajj was: I needed a lot more ṣabr. I needed a lot more patience. I needed a lot more forbearance. I needed a lot more himmah.

The brothers who came 3 hours late to Muzdalifah — I got there at 10, they came at 1am. They're young, some of them in their 30s. They said: Wallahi, we couldn't handle it. But when we saw these elderly women who kept on huffing and puffing and walking, limping, and not saying anything — that's what kept us going.

Similarly, some brothers from our group got lost on the day of Jamārāt. Our tent was right across from Jamārāt — 6 minutes away. You pay extra to get ocean view, mountain view — on our end you pay extra to get Shayṭān view. When you finish the last Jamrāh, you make a right to come towards our tents — called Majdal Kabsh tents. Some people from our group made a left. What did that cost them? I was back in my tent at 7am. They came back at 3:30pm, in 115–116 degree heat. Multiple members got heat strokes and were hospitalized. The women came literally crying. And yet, wallahi, some of them still had such a positive attitude — saying: Alḥamdulillāh, we hope Allah forgives our sins, we hope Allah accepts our Ḥajj.

So you realize what you need to pack is: positive attitude, forbearance, spiritual strength — not tens of different types of soaps and creams.

This reminds me of why the Day of Judgment is called Yawm al-Taghābun — a day of mutual deception. You're expecting that if I pack this, I'll do well, and some people realize it's the opposite. They'll be deceived.

And it reminds me of the ḥadīth that the poor individuals of this Ummah will enter Paradise 500 years before those who are wealthy, because they have far less ḥisāb — far less to give account for. The more you have in this world, the more accountable you'll be on the Day of Qiyāmah.

My teachers used to give the example of walking out of Costco or Walmart. If you just have a gallon of milk and a carton of eggs, the person at the door checking receipts doesn't even bother — Go, go, it's not worth my time to check $5 or $10 worth of items. But if you're coming with an entire full shopping cart — electronics, expensive things — he stops you and checks every item. Likewise, those who had very little in this world, when they come before Allah on the Day of Qiyāmah, Allah will just send them to Jannah — go, go, go. But those who hoarded a lot, they will be stopped and questioned. That's what will delay their entry into Paradise.

The Broader Message of Ḥajj: Sūrat al-Ḥajj and Spirituality

Many a time we forget about the true spirit of Ḥajj when we get so lost in the finer details — what type of soap, fragrance-free soap, this shampoo, this towel — all the things I need to pack. And then also the fiqh matters — what type of slippers, which part of my foot needs to be exposed — all of which is important, don't get me wrong. But there is a greater message of Ḥajj.

Shaykh ʿAlī al-Ḥudhayfi حفظه الله — who has been the Imām of Masjid al-Nabawī for 46 years — gave the khutbah at ʿArafāt this year. A beautiful khutbah. The entire thing was as if he was just reading Sūrat al-Ḥajj. He spoke about taqwā:

Reminding people about the Ākhirah:

Speaking about how the help of Allah will come to this Ummah:

Speaking about tawḥīd — and he stressed upon this a lot:

Speaking about shukr:

The entire khutbah — you go back and listen to it — the whole thing is quoting various āyāt from Sūrat al-Ḥajj, every point with its dalīl coming straight from the Sūrah.

One thing unique about Sūrat al-Ḥajj: if you reflect over it — and it's very important that we reflect over it before going for Ḥajj as well as on the journey — in preparation for Ḥajj we always attend these seminars and workshops and read the fiqh works. Great. But how about we read Sūrat al-Ḥajj? When Allah Himself is giving us advice about the journey.

If you look at Sūrat al-Ḥajj, there are only about two pages — two rukūʿs — when Allah speaks about the aḥkām, the legal rulings of Ḥajj. The rest of the Sūrah, when you read through it, doesn't seem like it has anything to do with Ḥajj. Allah is speaking about tawḥīd, ṣabr, shukr, Ākhirah. The beginning is about adopting taqwā. The message is that Ḥajj is not restricted to: Which type of soap do I need to use? What type of slippers do I need to wear? Can I wear a waist belt or not? That is one important aspect, no doubt. But there is a broader message — a broader message of spirituality, of connecting to Allah.

Likewise in Sūrat al-Baqarah — in the one rukūʿ when Allah speaks about Ḥajj — الْحَجُّ أَشْهُرٌ مَعْلُومَاتٌ — read through it again and again. Allah is reminding us about rūḥāniyyah, about spirituality.

You finish your manāsik — immediately turn to Allah, remember Allah, make the dhikr of Allah. رَبَّنَا آتِنَا فِي الدُّنْيَا حَسَنَةً — the duʿā āyāt also come in those verses. The broader message is that you're supposed to be turning to Allah, connecting to Allah. So don't get lost in the little trees and forget about the forest, forget about the bigger picture.

This is a very important message of Ḥajj. And it came to mind as you mentioned how much we pack and plan — which is important, no doubt — but we also need to keep the broader picture in mind. Ḥajj should be creating some change in our lives. That's why right after those verses in Sūrat al-Baqarah:

Allah is reminding us about our purpose in life — how we should be giving everything for the sake of Allah, how we should be submitting totally to Allah. These are the broader messages of Ḥajj.

The Improvements in Ḥajj Facilities and Gratitude for Them

At the same time, I do want to mention — alḥamdulillāh — all of these amenities that we have, all of these comforts. I was shocked at, in just two years, how much they have advanced things. Before, the tents used to be open. Two years ago they had AC but the tents would still be open from the top. Now it's completely covered — indoors, full drywalls. Before you used to have one or two chargers and everyone would be fighting for them. Now every Ḥājjī has his own charger right above his head. Before you used to sleep on the ground. Now they put beds, and under the beds they put a full storage area where you can put all of your belongings.

This is all from the raḥmah, the great mercy of Allah. We should be grateful for these amenities. On one hand, yes, it is a test — because it can distract us and take us away from the remembrance of Allah. But at the same time, we also thank Allah and we praise the ministry for the wonderful work they have done to improve the conditions for the ḥujjāj, for the ḍuyūf al-Raḥmān.

I was reflecting over Zubaydah, the wife of Hārūn al-Rashīd. When she went for Ḥajj, she noticed there was no water for the ḥujjāj and there was a lot of difficulty. So she gave the command for a canal to be dug so that the ḥujjāj would have water to drink and make wuḍūʾ. After she passed away — she was a very pious woman; in her palace, at any given time, there would be 200 maidservants who would just be reciting Qurʾān, that was their job, 24/7 — somebody saw her in a dream and asked: مَا فَعَلَ اللَّهُ بِكِ — how did you fare before Allah? She said: Allah forgave me because I gave that command for that canal to be dug for the water to be given to the ḥujjāj. Just because of that one deed of making it easier for the ḥujjāj, Allah forgave me.

MāshāAllāh. These individuals have the privilege of serving millions of ḥujjāj every single year. You look back two years ago when over a thousand people passed away due to heat strokes and other reasons. On one end we grieve and we're saddened, but at the same time, it's a great honor, a great privilege for a person to pass away in the journey of Ḥajj. Wallahi, you envy those individuals when you see the janāzahs going — and they're going in their iḥrām.

There was one Ṣaḥābī who passed away, and then the Prophet ﷺ said:

(Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, Hadith 1265; Ṣaḥīḥ Muslim, Hadith 1206)

Don't cover his face nor his head — just bury him in his iḥrām, just as he is. He will stand up on the Day of Judgment reciting the talbiyah. لَبَّيْكَ اللَّهُمَّ لَبَّيْكَ

So these ḥujjāj who are passing away in Ḥajj — wallahi, we envy them. And we should also acknowledge the efforts of the ministry and the many improvements they have made. From over a thousand people who passed away to this year just a handful — that's a great achievement. We give credit where credit is due.

One day I was sitting in the Ḥaram and I thought of the lines of Shaykh Ṣāliḥ āl Ṭālib al-Shuraym حفظه الله. Shaykh Shuraym — as many of you know — was the Imām of the Ḥaram for 32 years. In 2023 he was dismissed from his post. He was somebody who stood for ḥaqq and was very vocal in reminding those in charge about Allah and the Ākhirah. I don't want to get into the politics, but nonetheless when he left the Ḥaram, he wrote a beautiful poem. Despite all of his differences with the government, he left on a note of positivity — praising them, thanking them for the good that they did, and saying: Whatever decree they give, I will follow. So despite all that happened, look at how he left — on a note of positivity.

Likewise, despite all the differences we may have, we should be grateful and give thanks and praise when it is warranted. The government, the ministry, and all those involved in Ḥajj affairs have made great, great improvements — in Minā, in ʿArafāt, even in Muzdalifah now. MāshāAllāh, they're laying out carpets everywhere. People are no longer sleeping directly on the street. They're giving dinner to all of the ḥujjāj. They've done a lot to facilitate ease and comfort for the ḥujjāj.

Reflections on Leaving Muzdalifah: The Lesson of Dunya

One more reflection from Muzdalifah: I was leaving in the morning after Fajr, after our wuqūf, and I saw that entire sections were empty — just an endless sea of high-quality sleeping bags, high-quality umbrellas, high-quality bags, in the thousands strewn on the floor. They had brought them for just one night and then dumped them. Till the eye can see. Nobody even to take them — just left there.

This is a reality of dunya — all the material things, no one takes them into the grave. They leave everything here. Similarly it becomes a burden. People realized: Okay, I needed it for this night, I'm not going to carry it to Minā anymore.

As we were passing by certain sections, I saw some places with huge thick red cushions, thick red carpets, rugs. All empty as we're walking by.

کتنی رات انکی بھی گزری، ہماری بھی گزری — دونو گزر گئیں۔

We both spent our night there. And how much of a night was it? From around 10pm to Fajr — the whole Muzdalifah that everyone's so scared about is over within four to five hours. Those who slept on the floor, those who slept on a carpet, those who slept on a cushion — it's really three to four hours, and after that, everyone's gone.

I'm like: this is what the dunya is. Whether you're living in a $6 million mansion or a $600 a month rented apartment — your life is going to get spent. You're going to sleep, eat, drink, and move on. It really is not about what type of home you're living in. It's about what's going to happen afterwards. So much we attach to the place that we're staying, when in reality, that doesn't have much bearing. There are much greater things in life than that.

It reminds me of the line of Iqbāl, the famous poet:

We came into this world without anything, without any clothes, nothing. And we leave with one kafan — that's it, one shroud. And in between we make so much preparation, so much effort — just for that one libās.

Whenever I look back at ʿArafāt and Muzdalifah as we're leaving, I always think — you see just piles and piles of trash everywhere. And you think: inshāAllāh, over here we've left all of our physical and spiritual sins. We've left all of our garbage here. Inshāallāh, we've left all of our sins here as well.

It also reminds me that our temporary accommodation — for ʿArafāt, what, eight to ten hours? For Muzdalifah, five to six hours? — is more luxurious than what many people in the world have permanently. They've never seen a sofa bed, never seen refrigerators full of ice cream and juices, never seen buffets of food. They don't get this in their entire life. How much subhānAllāh Allah has given us. On one hand it's a blessing, a niʿmah from Allah. And at the same time it's a test — that we use these things for their purpose. Yes, you have to eat. Yes, it's hot — enjoy your ice cream, māshāAllāh. But don't forget about why you are there. Don't forget the main maqṣad.

Utilizing Luxury Without Losing Focus

I felt like this year the luxury was there, but people were really focused. Alḥamdulillāh, the AC — I'm not very good at handling heat, and in previous years 40–50% of my time at ʿArafāt was spent just trying to keep my body cool. This year — Alḥamdulillāh — with the well-built tent structures and good AC, I could focus.

The bathrooms — the number of bathrooms and showers — no one stood in line at all at ʿArafāt. No food line, continuous stuff is ready. But you have to be smart. If you go exactly where everyone else is going, waiting in the shawarma line, the carving stations, the live ice cream stations, the live juice stations, the full 12–15 item buffet — if you treat it like a Suhoor Fest, then obviously we're in the wrong place. But if you say: Come, let me just take a plate, wait till after the rush, pick up what I need in 15 minutes, eat quietly, and get back to work — it's amazing.

The luxuries are there. They're very beneficial for those who don't miss out on the maqṣad. Utilize them — like staying in this country. Do we not talk about what this country provides us? SubhānAllāh, possibly no other country provides the same. But there are two types of people: those who use the luxuries and facilities to improve their Deen and work on the most important things, and those who just run after the luxuries and forget about the whole reason they were even born. So Ḥajj will continue to probably add more luxurious elements — that's how it is. We just don't fall for it. Utilize what's necessary as a means to focus on why you're there: lots of duʿā, lots of reflection, lots of ibādah.

Alḥamdulillāh, we were able to do a maqraʾah of the entire Ḥizb al-Aʿẓam. We read the whole Ḥizb al-Aʿẓam together. MāshāAllāh, many people from here participated as well. There were so many people over there who had never even heard of this book, and I told them just to follow along in English. They had never made this many duʿās in their life. We were also able to do the prayers for forgiveness of Ḥasan al-Baṣrī رحمه الله right before Maghrib. That whole book — that was amazing. Along with that, our individual duʿās. I recommended people to do the Dalāʾil al-Khayrāt and the Barakat al-Makkiyyah, etc.

Alḥamdulillāh, I felt surrounded by a group of people who were constantly being reminded: Hey, this is time to work. Overeating, oversleeping — that wasn't happening. MāshāAllāh. Even though it was very luxurious and comfortable, people were really focused. They knew what they were there for. And I think that's the key thing.

Questions & Answers

Is it recommended to do ʿUmrah before Ḥajj for a first-timer?

Yes. I think it's a good idea. Previously, going for ʿUmrah was something people couldn't afford — it would be a once-in-a-lifetime travel to the Ḥaramayn. Alḥamdulillāh, that's not the case now for most of our audience. And the difference between Ḥajj and ʿUmrah in cost is huge — from maybe $1,500 to $15,000, meaning ʿUmrah is almost a tenth of what Ḥajj costs.

And Ḥajj — the biggest thing — is no longer guaranteed just because you have money. There were people in our group who had paid for the past three years and every year couldn't get in. Our brother who I go with was telling me about people who had been putting money into the e-wallet on Nusuk for past two years and still hadn't gotten a package. Then one brother called him — a day before a new phase was released — with no idea about Nusuk, no account, nothing. He helped him create it within a day, everything. When the package got released, subhānAllāh, he got it while people who had been trying for two years still didn't.

This is the reality — Allah does it. I was with one brother in Ḥajj last year. He told me he'd gone for ʿUmrah for the first time in December with friends. That was life-changing. After that, one brother said: No, we have to go for Ḥajj too. He wasn't very motivated and didn't know if he had the money for an expensive package. The other brother said: No problem — I'll pay for it. He transferred him $8,000. The brother was telling me this story: I'm sitting in front of you in a $12,000–$16,000 package. And the guy who paid my $8,000 — he never got a package. SubhānAllāh.

So I'm saying right now: those upon whom Ḥajj is farḍ — please, how are we going to answer Allah Azza wa Jal if we're not taking this seriously? A lot of us are still in the old mindset — I'll just call XYZ travel agent and send a check. That's how it used to be before, and we didn't act on it then either. Now it's become even harder. The Ḥajj mujāhadah now starts through Nusuk two, three, four months in advance. People are staying up all night. People are sitting with three laptops open. You have what I call "Nusuk parties" — everyone get together, get your laptops and credit cards ready.

So inshāAllāh, for those upon whom Ḥajj is obligatory — make niyyah right now. Start making duʿā immediately. And yes, if you've never been for ʿUmrah, definitely go for ʿUmrah soon.

This year I met people whom Allah has tested and blessed with immense amounts of wealth, and I was shocked to learn that they had never ever been to the Ḥaramayn — and they've been to the whole world. They don't know which islands they haven't visited for vacation, but they haven't come for the Ḥaramayn. We need to speak about the importance of visiting the Ḥaramayn to people in our families and communities. Encourage them. Many people who have money simply are not even thinking about it. They cross over the Ḥaramayn going to Bangladesh, India, Pakistan, Qatar, Dubai every year for other things, without thinking: Let me do a stopover. If anything, just start with a three-day transit. That's sufficient for ʿUmrah. And that will inshāAllāh lead to making duʿā for Ḥajj, and Allah will make that happen.

How does it feel standing on the plains of ʿArafāt making duʿā?

Many a time you just get lost in listening to the duʿās of other people. Especially two years ago, I went to Jabal al-Raḥmah — the mountain in ʿArafāt. People come early in the morning just to get a spot on the mountain. The entire mountain is covered with people. Though the Sunnah of the Prophet ﷺ was actually to do wuqūf at the foot of the mountain — Nabī ﷺ didn't climb up the mountain. So this practice of climbing up and taking spots — this is not from the Sunnah of Nabī ﷺ. Rather, he did his wuqūf at the bottom.

Anyways, it was just an amazing environment — everyone lost in their own duʿās. And nobody cares about the next person. Especially in that area there's no services, no food, no water, no ice cream — nothing. The only thing you have there is time to speak to Allah. There's nothing else to do.

We were sitting next to a very elderly Ḥājjī. I spoke to him briefly. He was 86 years of age. He came from Nigeria. He said: I've been saving up money for nearly 70 years. Finally today Allah has brought me. And you sit by these people and you say: Yā Allah, just by their sacrifices, allow my Ḥajj also to be accepted.

Like the ḥadīth mentions:

That's one of the beauties of Ḥajj — you just don't know who's there. You don't know which awliyāʾ of Allah, which friends of Allah, are present. And perhaps due to their presence, Allah will accept from everyone. I myself may be weak — I'm not even qualified to be there. Just Allah's Raḥmat has allowed me to be there. But there are such amazing individuals who've come with so much pain. Some have just lost relatives. Some are going through conditions we can't even imagine. And they've come just crying and begging to Allah. Their relationship to Allah is something we can't even imagine.

That's one of the benefits of collective ibādah. I may be weak, but somebody else here is strong. And Allah looks at the entire group. The ḥadīth says that if you're part of that group, Allah will accept from you as well — because Allah is so merciful. He's not going to give to some people and deprive others. It's one group — Allah is going to give to everyone.

(Ibn Mājah, Hadith 2893)

Those who come for Ḥajj, those who come for ʿUmrah — these are the guests of Allah. Allah called them. When you call somebody to your house, you never send them away empty-handed — it would be an insult. Imagine you invite somebody for a dinner and you don't serve them food. They just come, sit, and go. Would you ever do that? Allah who is Karīm, who is Akram al-Akramīn, who is Arḥam al-Rāḥimīn — do you think Allah is going to call people all the way for Ḥajj and ʿUmrah and send them away empty-handed?

(Sunan Abī Dāwūd, Hadith 1488; Sunan al-Tirmidhī, Hadith 3556)

Allah feels shy when a person raises his hands to send them away empty-handed. So in the plain of ʿArafāt, that's a day when everyone is just engaged in duʿā — it's a beautiful spirit, a beautiful environment.

But one reflection I do have from there is: we need many ʿArafāts in our lives. Just as we spend an hour, two hours, three hours on that day locked in, making lots of duʿā to Allah — it shouldn't be that the rest of the year we barely have any time to make duʿā. On a daily basis we should have a ten-minute ʿArafāt. Ten minutes when we sit down and just make duʿā to Allah in that manner. Or maybe on a weekly basis, a longer sitting when we just speak to Allah.

This has to become normal. When we speak to Allah, we have a conversation with Him — that's how you build a relationship. You want to build a relationship with anyone — your spouse, your children, your siblings — you have to spend time with them, you have to talk to them. Otherwise you won't get closer. You want to build a relationship with Allah, you have to talk to Him as well.

The nature of human beings is: the more you ask from them, the more tired they get. You ask once, they give. Ask twice — go, get a job, how many times are you going to ask from me? But with Allah it's the opposite:

(Sunan al-Tirmidhī, Hadith 3373; Sunan Ibn Mājah, Hadith 3827)

The one who doesn't ask from Allah — Allah gets upset with him. Allah loves it when we turn to Him. That's one of the beauties of ʿArafāt — the day when you just turn to Allah. And from time to time, on a daily basis, we should have those periods when we make duʿā to Allah.

How will you know if your Ḥajj has been accepted?

The reality of all of our deeds — only a person will find out on the Day of Judgment. However, as is mentioned by our scholars, a sign of the acceptance of an ibādah is that Allah gives you tawfīq to do more. And a sign of the acceptance of Ḥajj and ʿUmrah — especially Ḥajj — is that a person's life changes.

(Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, Hadith 1773; Ṣaḥīḥ Muslim, Hadith 1349)

(Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, Hadith 1521; Ṣaḥīḥ Muslim, Hadith 1350)

You'll come back as though the day you were given birth by your mother — innocent, clean. So Ḥajj should actually make us change our temperament, our desires, our ambitions, our commitment to ibādah. A person should start sensing and feeling: I just feel different post-Ḥajj. I'm not the same person anymore. That is inshāAllāh a very good sign.

And we hope and we pray and we beg to Allah that all those who've done Ḥajj this year — as they come back to their houses and communities — may Allah allow them to genuinely sense and feel as though their Ḥajj has been accepted, by the fact that they are now motivated to do things they were not able to before, and staying away from things they were not able to stay away from before.

But I also want to mention — addictions are real. Bad habits are real. They're very tough to break away from. So if someone smokes four packs of cigarettes a day, went for Ḥajj, and now says: Man, how do I give it up? — that doesn't mean Ḥajj is not accepted. As long as a person feels genuinely guilty about it, is trying to break this habit, and is working intentionally to break it — whatever therapy, medication, whatever else he needs — that's fine. It might happen over a period of one month or many months. The key thing is a person should never be content with a life of sin.

I'm saying that because people become depressed and feel very guilty: I just came out from Ḥajj, I can't believe I cannot give up this bad habit. I might as well just go all out now and do my old life, old things. No — don't do that. This is a test for you, and inshāAllāh you will succeed. Just remain patient, keep on asking and begging Allah, have those smaller mini-ʿArafāts as many as possible.

The Change Seen in Returning Ḥujjāj: A Call to Others

One scholar mentioned beautifully that historically, the greatest number of people who would accept Islam would be during the Ḥajj season — because they would see people going for Ḥajj, hear the talbiyah being called for miles, be curious, and then see the change in the people returning. And because of that change, they'd say: This must be something powerful, this must be real — how is it that these people went for a few weeks and now they have completely totally changed? So historically, the greatest number of people coming into the fold of Islam was during the Ḥajj season.

The Prophet ﷺ mentions:

(Musnad Aḥmad, Hadith 7160)

He said: When you meet a Ḥājjī, go out of your way to give salām, shake his hands, and ask him to make istighfār for you — قَبْلَ أَنْ يَدْخُلَ بَيْتَهُ — before he enters into his house. Because once he enters his house, everything comes back — he's reminded of all his previous habits, and it becomes very easy to get tangled up again in a life of sin.

In our times today, the easiest way of attaining this virtue is to go and pick up the ḥujjāj from the airport — you're meeting them before they come back to their house. It's sad and unfortunate when you see ḥujjāj returning and they have to take an Uber or a taxi. It's our failure. We should take it as our honor and our privilege — we have relatives, friends, and community members who have gone for Ḥajj. Find out when they're returning and make it a point to try to pick them up.

And when you meet a Ḥājjī, there is a specific duʿā mentioned in Ṭabarānī:

(Al-Muʿjam al-Awsaṭ lil-Ṭabarānī)

May Allah accept your Ḥajj. May Allah forgive you for your sins. And whatever you spent on the journey of Ḥajj, may Allah replace it for you.

I'm reminded of the narration in Tirmidhī, when the Prophet ﷺ said:

(Sunan al-Tirmidhī, Hadith 810; Sunan al-Nasāʾī, Hadith 2631)

Constantly, frequently go — again and again for Ḥajj and ʿUmrah. And then he said: Ḥajj and ʿUmrah will destroy sins and poverty from your life. As counterintuitive as that seems — ask those who have been going frequently. Ask them how much Allah has given them. How much barakah Allah has given them in their wealth. This is the ḥadīth of the Prophet ﷺ: you spend 10,000–15,000 dollars on a Ḥajj package, and the Prophet ﷺ is promising us — and this is where īmān comes into play — that Allah will replace it for you and destroy poverty from your life.

Closing Duʿā

May the khayr and the good that happened from all the ḥujjāj this year be accepted. May Allah accept all of us to go again and again. May Allah grant us a maqbūl ziyārah of the Ḥaramayn al-Sharīfayn, and allow us to benefit from their anwār and fuyūḍ while we are here as well. And we ask Allah to accept the sacrifices of our families and our loved ones who helped us with our children, our businesses, and whatever else we left behind. May Allah give all those who assisted in the lives of the ḥujjāj the full ajr of the Ḥajj as well.

وَالسَّلَامُ عَلَيْكُمْ وَرَحْمَةُ اللَّهِ وَبَرَكَاتُهُ