Karbala Teaches Patience: For Most Shia Muslims Crying Over the Tragedy of Karbala Is A Catharsis
By Rana Safvi
06 Oct 2020
Almost
twenty-five years ago, I was diagnosed with a cyst, and the doctors thought it
quite serious and ordered a mammogram. When I told my mother about it she
panicked and made a vow that once I got the all-clear, she would send me to
Karbala Moalla (the exalted city of Karbala) in Iraq. By the grace of Allah I
was cleared. Immediately Amma gave me the necessary funds to make the trip.
Due to some
personal problems I was unable to go then. Amma and I used to plan that we will
both go together; Amma would pay for the Zeyarat
(pilgrimage) and I would, in turn, take her to Turkey for some R&R after
that.
But as they
say man proposes and God disposes. Amma died in 2004 of the same disease that
she was scared I might get. While Turkey is still on the bucket list, I finally
went to Karbala in 2010 on the occasion of Arbaeen.
It is
observed with a lot of solemnity and sorrow the world over, but more so in
Karbala.
I went with
a group of pilgrims and we landed in the city of Najaf where the shrine of the
Ali ibn Abu Talib, the fourth Caliph of Islam, is located.
‘Hazrat
Ali’ – as we call him – is considered the first imam by the Twelver Shias. The
word ‘Shiian-i Ali’ actually means ‘friends or followers of Ali’, and this
became the name of a sect of Islam in later years.
The
martyrdom of Hazrat Ali’s son who refused to accept the alliance of Yazid is
well-known. Imam Husain refused to accept Yazid as the Caliph of Islam after
the death of the latter’s father, Muawiyah, who was the first Umayyad Caliph.
To avoid
confrontation, Husain left Medina for Mecca, and later from Mecca to Kufa in
Iraq. He was accompanied by his family. Later, when it became certain that
there was going to be a confrontation, some friends joined him.
They were
forced to camp on the dusty plains of Nainwah, which is now famous as Karbala.
Imam Husain
bought the land from the Banu Asad tribe in Karbala and gifted it back to them.
He asked them to bury the dead as he was convinced that they would all be
martyred, and asked the tribe to host his mourners.
Walking with the Zayereens (pilgrims) to Karbala.
(Photo: Rana Safvi)
-----
On the
fateful day of the 10th Muharram, 61 AH/ 10 October, 680 CE, a battle was
fought which was to change the history of Islam. It was fought between the
small, determined band of followers of Imam Husain, the Prophet’s grandson and
the mighty army of Yazid, the ruler of Syria.
We made all
our preparations, including asking everyone for forgiveness, making a will etc.
In the
olden days, these pilgrimages had been fraught with danger, and all were
advised to settle their affairs, put things in order before embarking on it. In
2010, there were other dangers. Sectarian violence had been rocking that area
and it wasn’t the safest of regions in the world.
The first
thing I saw after clearing immigration and coming out of the Najaf airport was
a sniper standing on a high sentry post with the legend ‘We shoot to kill’.
The morning
that we were to leave for Karbala, we all piled onto the bus with prayers on
our lips and tears in our eyes.
Zayereens (pilgrims) walking to Karbala.(Photo:
Rana Safvi)
-----
We were
told that it was a distance of 75 km, and though a distance that could be
covered in an hour by a car, would take a few hours because of the rush of
people coming there. We were prepared with water, a few sandwiches, and the
love of the Ahl-i bait.
There had
been many restrictions on this pilgrimage for locals during the rule of Saddam
Hussein. Once he was ousted in 2003, the locals were able to revive the
tradition of walking to Karbala. They came from all parts of Iraq.
Many were
walking bare feet as a mark of respect, some because they couldn’t afford foot
wear, but everyone wanted to be in Karbala-i Moalla to offer their condolences
and mourn the Sayyid al-Shuhada
(Master of Martyrs).
That year
in 2010, there was a record 10 million people visiting Karbala on that day. Of
course now that number has increased.
That bus
journey is something I can never forget. The first 50-60 km we covered in an
hour or two, and after that we crawled. It took our bus seven hours to cover
the rest of the journey to reach our hotel Karbala-i Moalla.
After an
hour or so some little boys came into our bus and distributed tetra packs of
milk and juice. There were Sabeels (water stations) put up all along the way
for the refreshment of the Zayereens
(pilgrims). Please bear in mind that these people were not well-off; their
region had seen a lot of violence and economic deprivations. And yet, they
opened their heart to us.
We needed
to visit a washroom, and were guided to an old mud-and-brick house whose
inhabitants were cooking naan for distribution. They were being supervised by
an old lady with a toothless smile, dressed in shabby clothes. I was drawn to
her extremely warm smile, and in a little bit of broken Arabic I picked up a
conversation with her. I asked her if I could photograph her and she said ‘wait
a minute’.
What I Learnt From My Dadi about Piety,
Fortitude & Forbearance
I wanted to
experience the walk myself, and as our bus was in any case stuck, I knew I
could come back to it after a while. It was there that I saw a young boy,
perhaps eight or nine years of age, with his younger brother, aged about six,
in the crowd. The two were alone. The older one had tied a rope around the
younger one’s waist, and stick in hand, was leading him as the man of the
family. I couldn’t stop the spontaneous flow of tears and even now as I write
and think of those two orphans, I can’t help but cry.
War and
violence are cruel
On
the way to Karbala. (Photo: Rana Safvi)
-----
I
remembered my childhood and my paternal grandmother, Begum Banni Fatima, whom
we called Dadi, who was an ardent lover of the Ahl-i Bait and for whom
everything else paled in comparison to the sorrow and grief that had been borne
by Imam Husain and his family.
She had
been one of the guiding lights of my life. She inspired great respect for her
piety, fortitude and forbearance, and was known for her love of the Ahle Bait
(Prophet’s family). She wasn’t alone in her grief; every year, millions
gathered in villages, towns and cities to mourn for the Garib Ul Watan (immigrant) Husain who couldn't go back home.
I can never
forget Dadi, who was almost 90, reciting a Marsiya,
an elegiac verse, commemorating the death of Hussain ibn Ali’s 18-year-old son
Ali Akbar at the battle of Karbala:
Rann Mein Jab Bano E Bekasi Ki Sawari Aayi
Utho Laal Dekho Maa Tumhari Aayi.
When Bano
the helpless came to the battlefield
[She cried]
Get up my darling, your mother has come.
How My Dadi Coped With Loss & Grief
Dadi wept
and recited it with passion. Everyone who listened to her, including us children,
grew hysterical with grief. It was the majlis held after my father’s sudden
passing away. A majlis, or assembly to mourn Imam Husain, recited normally
during the month of Muharram, also marks the death ceremonies of a Shia Muslim.
“They were given
to me by Him; they've returned to Him,” is what she would say. Maybe a few
tears escaped her, but she didn't weep upon their deaths as that would be
showing ingratitude to Allah. She had been brought up to have faith in Him and
His decisions.
Rather, the
only time she wept and wailed was in a Majlis
or during the month of Muharram when, clad in black clothes, she mourned Imam
Husain and his family. Her sorrow, after all, was nothing compared to theirs.
Thus, must it be for all those whom I saw walking in 2010, who had come out
through years of repression and sectarian violence. They were weeping, wailing
softly and reciting elegies as they walked. Who knows, perhaps it was their
faith in Imam Husain which kept them going.
We reached
our hotel late at night, bone-tired, had our dinner, washed and bathed – and
instead of sleeping, immediately left for the shrine.
How I Switched On My Phone to Panic Calls &
Messages
There are
two shrines in Karbala-i Moalla: that
of Imam Husain and his family and friends who were martyred, and one at a
little distance of Hazrat Abbas, his half-brother.
Hazrat
Abbas, the standard bearer of Imam Husain’s army of seventy-two, is also called
Chhote Hazrat (Younger Presence) and Bab-ul Hawaij (The door to fulfilling
wishes). It is to his shrine that we go first and then to that of Imam Husain.
Our hotel
was exactly opposite the shrine, and we had to just cross the street to enter
it. But once again it took ages because of the huge crowd and the stringent
security checks. There were at least 3-4 checks before we could go inside.
On the 12th
Muharram, exactly three days later, when the signal returned, I saw a flood of
messages; my husband, daughter, son and sisters pleading me to send them news
of my welfare. I had no idea what had happened and why they were panicking.
Finally, when I managed to get through to my husband I was told that there had
been a bomb blast near the shrine. And since my signal had gone around the same
time, everyone was scared and apprehensive.
My daughter
tells me that those were very tense days for the family. They had eventually
managed to get through to the office of our tour group, which told them our
hotel was far away from the blast site, but even then the worrying persisted
till I called.
What a Shroud from Karbala Means to Shias
When we
were to make our return journey, the group leader called a meeting of all the
pilgrims. I had gone to the shrine so didn’t attend it. I returned to our hotel
room to find a weeping friend. When I asked what had happened I was told,
“Rana, they are going to let loose dogs on us. What will happen to the Kafan (shroud) that I have bought? They
will get defiled.”
I had of
course bought not only for myself but for the elders in my family too. Anyway,
I managed to decipher what my friend was saying. We had to board the flight
from Baghdad airport, where the security was very tight and sniffer dogs would
come into the bus. We were told to make sure that not a morsel of our packed
lunch – which had kebab sandwiches – remained for our own safety. Our luggage
would be put down and the dogs would then sniff them.
I consoled
the lady that the shrouds would be packed inside and the dogs could only sniff
the exterior which she could clean.
However,
the looming security check was very unnerving. Such is the fear of the unknown,
and we had no idea as to what the dogs would do – so much so that I remember
all of us had picked up even the crumbs from the bread and eaten it.
The dogs
however turned out to be very well-trained. They were brought into the bus by
their handlers and they didn’t bother us.
There was
chaos at the airport and it took us a while to get out our boarding passes and
go through immigration. It was night when we reached Dubai, and the next
morning I reached home to an emotional welcome.
This year
there will be no march on Arbaeen,
due to the pandemic and some very sensible advice by the Grand Ayatollah
Sistani, who has advised Shias to partake in Muharram activities through safe
alternatives such as TV and online platforms.
For those
who have lost their loved ones in the pandemic, I only have words of
condolences of the famous Marsiyago Mir Anees, referring to the death of
six-month-old Ali Asghar who was martyred in his father Imam Husain’s arms on
that fateful 10th Muharram in 680 CE.
Shrine
of Hazrat Abbas (Photo: Rana Safvi)
------
‘May Allah
Give You Sabr’
However,
the looming security check was very unnerving. Such is the fear of the unknown,
and we had no idea as to what the dogs would do – so much so that I remember
all of us had picked up even the crumbs from the bread and eaten it.
The dogs
however turned out to be very well-trained. They were brought into the bus by
their handlers and they didn’t bother us.
There was
chaos at the airport and it took us a while to get out our boarding passes and
go through immigration. It was night when we reached Dubai, and the next
morning I reached home to an emotional welcome.
For those
who have lost their loved ones in the pandemic, I only have words of
condolences of the famous Marsiyago Mir
Anees, referring to the death of six-month-old Ali Asghar who was martyred
in his father Imam Husain’s arms on that fateful 10th Muharram in 680 CE.
May Allah
give you Sabr (fortitude) to bear the loss, and your departed relatives a place
in heaven
Nanhi Si Qabr Khod Kar Asghar Ko Gaad Kar
Shabbir Uth Khade Huye Daman Ko Chaad Kar
In a tiny
grave, he buried Asghar
Shabbir
[Hussain] stood up and dusted his shirt
-----
Rana Safvi is the founder and moderator of the
popular #shair platform on Twitter, which is credited for reviving popular
interest in Urdu poetry.
Original Headline: Muharram 2020: What My Karbala Pilgrimage
Taught Me About ‘Sabr’
Source: The Quint
URL: https://newageislam.com/islamic-society/karbala-teaches-patience-most-shia/d/123054
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