Haj 2015 - Part IV Mudzalifah & Malam Bulan dipagar Bintang

Prologue

So I survived Arafah. Barely, I must add. In hindsight, if I can re-do Wukuf, I would. I was not very satisfied with my ibadah during Wukuf. I was trying hard to get through the day; more than I was trying to go deep in my prayers. And I must say I was so stressed out by the heat that I could not think properly; and that I felt weak.

For the uninitiated - like me before doing my haj, Wukuf is done in Arafah between just after mid-day to sunset i.e. magrib. Technically we can leave Arafah by sunset, sunset is about 5.30 pm and head to Mudzalifah. Technically we can stay for 1 seconds in Mudzalifah; there is no major requirement for this mabit. 

But one can leave Mudzalifah only after midnight. Not a second earlier.

MUDZALIFAH & The Seven Pebbles

We did our maghrib prayer in the dark in our tent in Arafah. I am not sure if there is any light; I guess there should be since there are pilgrims doing overnight in Arafah the night before. But our small tent has no light, so we did our deeds in the not-so-bright light of sunset.

Slowly we make our moves heading to the gate. Thousands were already there waiting for their buses, and there was not a single bus in sight - they have not arrived yet. We had to squeeze our way out, apologizing for beating the technically-non-existent queue, by excusing ourselves that our bus has arrived.

A few would not budge; they must have thought that we were trying to beat the queue. We weren't, and we had to explain that we have car waiting for us, before the let us through reluctantly.

Mudzalifah! We were here first and soon loads of buses and cars joined us

Within minutes, we were ferried out of Arafah and headed to Mudzalifah, and it was only a short journey. Guess in less than 15 minutes, may be twenty, who knows, we have reached Mudzalifah. May be at most, it was before 7 pm. Zaki parked the car and quickly we settled down at a chosen spot on the desert. It was not the best of spots; it was in the middle of nowhere to be honest. It didn't matter. But soon many cars and buses would arrive and it would have a fiesta atmosphere in that area.

Dining in the desert for us

Zaki and Jufri put up the carpet on the sand, and we quickly have our dinner!

Dinner was simple meals of sandwiches and cheese, and fruits and cold drinks. But it was good enough for me. It is just to fill up the empty stomach - I didn't have lunch, and with no public restroom within walking distance, I would prefer to control food intakes.

More importantly, we were here to collect the seven pebbles for us to throw at Aqabah, so after dinner, we quickly did just that

The romantic couple of Maksu and Paksu, working hard as a team

Enough for bus load of pilgrims - Paksu is very efficient in his collection

Just imagine, wearing our ihram, we were like kids looking for batu seremban. I tried too, but in the end, I gave up. I was still too tired by the heat in Arafah, and I knew the ustaz would collect more than he needed. I know I could rely on him for all my pebbles need to throw at the Jamrah.

By then, bus load of people were there. Some of the pilgrims from Middle East brought their big pots of Mandey! I wish they would invited me to join them for dinner. It has a carnival atmosphere.

Other pilgrims there doing the needful

As I have mentioned earlier, we cannot leave until after midnight. Technically we don't need to be here very early. But today's transportation and the fact that there were only five of us, we were here in no time. And hence we had to spend quite a bit of time here.

Some may arrived after 11 pm, and their waiting time would be much less. I guess in the old days, people would walk and ride the camel, and hence it would take them hours to reach Mudzalifah, so it would justify the time why we can only leave after midnight.

So what else we need to do to while our time away?

Yes, forty winks. We have our carpet, our sleeping bag as pillow and the black sky as our roof, and we slept our time away, oblivious to our surrounding! There was nothing in the books guiding us on what we need to do at Mudzalifah.

I guess soon many of us were in the realms of sweet dreams. I had my short nap interrupted a couple of times, but I managed to close my eyes. 

Yes, Malam bulan di pagar bintang. Yes, starry starry night! All of these. In Mudzalifah. Mak Su and Pak Su slept well, but Haji Halim slept like a baby, until it was time to leave.

But the ustaz and Zaki the driver were manning fort. Close to midnight, they would wake us up, and get it ready.

We got out of Mudzalifah at 12.02 am, and headed to Mina for our Aqabah!

EPILOGUE

Just to recap our Haj journey thus far:

Left Makkah on 9 Zulhijjah at 10 am
Reached Arafah by 10.45 am
Left Arafah by 6.15 pm
Reached Mudzalifah by 6.45 pm
Left Mudzalifah by 12.02 am (technically we were  on Raya night 10, Zulhijjah)

Haj 2015 - Part III Wukuf & The Heat Wave

Prologue

If there is anything I like about my Haj or trip for Makkah this time around, it is for the fact that I did not have any of the normal ailments associated with the weather or conditions there.

The hemorrhoids that I had before leaving for Haj has subsided tremendously, and I was no longer in pain the last 2 days before wukuf. It must be the zam-zam water; in any case I was thankful it did not give me any trouble at all. With His grace.

Alhamdulillah.

But what puzzled me the most is that none of us (there were five of us altogether in the group) had any complaint whatsoever of sore throat, cough, cold or fever at all. Not even a tinge of soreness. None. Nol. Kosong. Zero. Zilch.  Oh, puzzling was not the proper adjective to describe my feeling then, and even now. More like I am thankful. I can safely mention here that until the end of Haj, I had no complaints. My medical box has no use beyond my daily blood pressure medicine. I think this is His way of compensating me for the dilemma and problems I was facing early on. May be, I don't know that for sure.

As far as I can remember, I would get at least one of them on the very first day in Makkah or in Madinah. For me it would normally start with sore-throat, and would follow with cough and/or some form of fever. I would feel bad; I had skipped a few external ziarah trips due to health reason on my first trip.

But I was in the pink of my health during the haj. Allahuakbar.

I hope it is not a reflection of the "mabrurity" of my haj; pardon my coining the terminology. People have said that without any pain or illness - cough was the ailment normally mentioned, there was no haji mabrur!

I hope that was said in jest.

22nd Sept (The Day before Wukuf)

We had decided during a quick meeting with the mutawwif and organizer on how we would approach the Wukuf as the day drew nearer. We knew the majority would head to Arafah the day before wukuf, specifically after asr. Wukuf this year would fall on 23rd September, so technically late afternoon on 22nd September, tens of thousands, most likely millions, would be making their way to Arafah. 

After Asr prayer, the lobby of the hotel is full of pilgrims heading to Arafah on the 22nd Sept, the day before wukuf. My journey however would only begin in the morning of the Wukuf day itself. The next day.

Mind you, Arafah is only about 21 odd kilometres, but as I had mentioned in Part I, everybody would be heading the same way at the same time, so a simple one-hour journey may lasts much longer.

Ustaz Jufri assured us that we should not have problem reaching Arafah even if we were to head there late morning on Wukuf day itself. In fact he reckoned that the road would be empty since by then everybody would be in Arafah already. We debated intently on the risk. "Wukuf is Haj," said my sister later. So without it, there would be no haj. The prophet said so himself. "The car has all the permit to drive anywhere during the haj," the organizer told us, "furthermore Zaki is more Arab than he is Malay! He would have no problem." Since there is no or little risk of not making it to Arafah, we agreed that we would head to Arafah on Wukuf day itself.

A near empty Haraam that night before wukuf. Most were already in Arafah, and we get to enjoy more solat time in front of Kaabah. It is a rare view by the Kaabah standard

Coming back after asr prayer on 22nd, you can see how crowded the hotel lobby. Everyone  is heading to Arafah. We quietly sat back and enjoy one more night at the Haraam, and a reasonably quiet and empty hotel that night.

Sept 23, 2015 - WUKUF DAY

So it was business as usual even in the morning of Wukuf Day with the dawn prayer and breakfast. My main concern for Wukuf then was still the toilet. So I had to make sure that I would minimize my use of those facilities in Arafah - do all your deeds in Makkah! The journey to Arafah, by traveling on Wukuf day itself, should be a breeze, so one part of my concern is no longer in the equation.

An empty restaurant in the morning of Wukuf. Only the five of us. Not!

The time has finally arrived. Yes, D-Day, or technically it should be W-Day! Our Haj is finally here - it was a lifetime in the making. Donning our ihram, we headed to the tower basement to catch our transport to Arafah. It was close to 10 am when we left the hotel. I was nervous; we were at least 30 mins later than planned, but Zaki the driver is as cool as cucumber.

Zaki is a Pattani descent. He can speak the Kelantanese dialect, but he was born-and bred in Saudi, and even married a Saudi girl. He was our driver since the first day, but we were told that he has a rich family; his father owned a couple of hotels in Makkah.

But his job was to drive us around, and boy, was he a good one. There is no road off limit to a guy like Zaki.

Us and Ustaz Jufri just before the trip. All in our standard Haj uniform.

So how long really it would take us to drive to Arafah from Makkah? Twelve (12) hour according to Roslan Ibrahim, The Metro newspaper reporter who wrote about his journey in his column. I have heard that it was 6 hours for many. Three to four hours is normal, on a good day, I guess

For us, leaving Makkah at 10.00 am, it was a beautiful drive to Arafah on an empty highway. Not a single vehicle on the road once we left Makkah. Padang Jarak Padang Tekukur. It would be a nightmare for PLUS, if I can say it here.

The white tent of Arafah

Empty roads leading to the tent

Entering Arafah

Nobody was on the road.

I am sure Malaysian government would have to fork out millions of ringgit of compensation for the highway operator! Haha, you can call me Haji Sarcastic.

It took us a very long 45 mins to reach Arafah. With ample of time to spare from the start of wukuf, I was happy and I was relief.

But where is everybody?

But here-in lies the greatest challenge that I faced during my haj. Not the toilet; the toilet was clean; I can assure you of that. As good as you can get. I did not cringe when at the end of the wukuf time, I had to use one. It is so clean. A very fussy person on toilet cleanliness, I have no complaints in Arafah.

And there was no queue to talk about. You read it right. (Did I mention that it was also very clean?)

Queues like this in Arafah? Nonsense. I did not even see two person queuing like in this picture. Taken from the net, with apology.

I had been told of numerous stories about the long queues, and the antics of people wanting to cut queue. At times, it can be hilarious, especially in hindsight. But I saw none of those. I did not have to queue at all when I went there to do my deeds. There were ample of toilets and behind our our tent, there was even a two-storey building housing multiple of them and they were mostly empty.

Not many would like to climb stairs to go to the restroom.

As for me, I did not know of its existence until the very end.

Our tent in the foreground and the two storey toilet in the background

To me, this is like a revelation. Wahyu dari Illahi in the days when there was no more wahyu; I hope it it is not blasphemous for saying so, God forbids. But you know what I mean. I was so afraid of that. I refrained myself from having lunch, and I minimized my water intake to ensure that I didn't have to go to the restroom. In the end, I had no problem with that facilities. All these years, I was reluctant to go for my haj; in the end, it was for nothing.

Allahu Akbar.

The longest queue I saw was for the ladies at the Indonesian camp. Probably four persons in a row - and there are probably ten toilets at that particular place. But that was it.

But something that I did not plan for was the heat. It was sauna-like condition at mid-day. In fact I think it was hotter than sauna. The temperature must have been at least 50 C, something I had not experienced and could not stand.

Metro reporter reported that the temperature during wukuf was a whopping 55 C.

View of our tent in Arafah. IT was like being in a sauna, and I was never a fan of the sauna.

I could not stand the sauna condition in the tent. I was so stressed out - it felt like all energy has been drained out of me. My body temperature must have risen dramatically. I was spraying water to my face every 10 seconds, and wetted my hair and head in an effort to cool down. My hand squeezing the spray bottle was faster than my lips reciting the zikr.

It was no joke. I dreaded those moments, even today. My mind was shutting down. I could not concentrate on the tasks at hand; that is to do lots of zikr and ibadah.

It was something I did not prepare, but it was not something I could have prepared.

Counting back, I realize that it would take at least another 20 years for the Haj to be in the winter month of February. Wukuf in the middle of summer was hard. The sun was especially harsh in Arafah. There was no air conditioner; only water chiller. But then again, I guess, it is a prelude to Mahsyar. It would be a million time worse. Here in Arafah, we still value those around us. In Mahsyar, we will most likely ignore others. Everybody is in there for oneself only.

I could not have waited to experience haj in winter - my age conspired against me doing that. I should have gone 10 years ago perhaps, when it was in December. 

All in all I spent less than 7 hours in Arafah. Many had spent the whole day there; and night. I am not sure how they survived. I thought I could not stand the 7 hours I was there. I was feeling very weak, to be honest. In the end, I was just there to complete the Wukuf; nothing more, nothing less. I am not proud to admit.

I also did not see the seas of people like in Mahsyar. I  guess we are further away from Jabal Rahmah, and I guess at mid-day I did not venture out at all. I was busy trying to survive.

Many were doing their ibadat in the open in front of my tent. Those standing were doing the dua. This was after asr.

However, as the day ends, the scorching sun tend to be a bit more gentle to us. More and more people came out of their tent to do their duas. Many were doing it in pairs  husband and wife. It was a wonderful sight. Maksu later joined any group doing the duas, and probably were just "amin-ing" to all the duas.

This is our tent (left). That's my Paksu chatting with his best friend, an MAS pilot

Towards the end, I walked a bit to see the surrounding. I saw the Korean tent, the Thai tent and the Indonesian ones. It is a mixed area. Many joined which ever groups were doing the duas, especially the Indonesian one since we can understand the language. But Islam is such a universal religion that it attracted people from the world over. You can see the diversity at Arafah.

The Heli hovering high above us, as we approache maghrib in Arafah, and the end of Wukuf for 2015

Through out the day, we had lots of helis hovering above. I was told - jokingly by my brother in law perhaps - that those were the VVVIP pilgrims doing their wukuf from high above!

And I believed him.

Obviously it was not, at least not according to my ustaz when I related to him the story. It was simply the security helis doing their rounds checking that everything was alright at Arafah.

To be honest, I did not get to see Arafah. I had no idea where Jabal Rahmah was in relation to my tent; not that there was a need for me to do my duas there, after all I was already in Arafah. I was busy keeping myself cool and dehydrated. 55C was a bit too challenging for me, and many had to be taken to the clinic for hydration, especially the old folks.

I came knowing well my limitation, and was praying hard that I can handle that. I had trained hard - physically, to keep myself fit - I was jogging daily the last month before Haj. But in the end Allah tested me with the hot weather, something beyond my limit.

I would not consider myself a weakling. But if the mid-day sun was any longer than it was that day, I am not sure I could be here writing. Boy, was I glad when it was over (or when the sun went down). I had survived Wukuf in Arafah, and with that too my haj.

Alhamdulillah.

By far, that was the biggest challenge of my haj.

Haj 2015 - Part II The Lull before the Storm

20 Sept 2015

So I survived the trials and tribulations of the impending Haj. We still have three days left before wukuf, and we need to conserve our energy and get ourselves ready for the big day.

Fortunately we got a room at the clock tower, so our daily routine to attend the five time daily prayer was a real pleasure. Don't get me wrong,; I know that every step that we took count in the final countdown. But we are here for the last and final pillar of Islam, so we need to conserve our energy. I was told that many of us performed the daily solah at the respective hotel surau, due to conservation of energy theory.

And haj can only be performed in Makkah and nowhere else, and only at this time of the year.

Whatever we do, we have that at the back of our mind. Conserve energy. Our goal is haj.

It is 45 C!

We got contradicting verdicts about praying in our room; yes, you can and no, you can't. Depending on who you talked to. But we decided to follow the most conservative verdict, and went to the Haraam for every prayer. It was not much of a walk, to be honest.

Just that the midday sun can be challenging.The sun is so bright and the heat is harsh.

Sept 21, 2015

But after taking a rest after the arrival debacle, I quickly contacted doc Judane to arrange for a mini reunion in Makkah. I knew beforehand that the three of them had arrived before me.

I found out that they were staying at Hotel Janadriyah, apparently owned by Tabung Haji. I am also told that TH HQ is also located at the same building. So this newly-arrived would have to visit the hosts, and not the other way round. I like to have the fun visiting people rather than waiting for them to come. Especially Judane has tempted me with teh tarik and roti canai!

Morning was typically an easy time for the pilgrims.

The Crane as captured by yours truly, on the way to Janadriyah HOtel

It was a long walk from the clock tower. We passed by the side of Haraam, near the palace and the Safa and Marwah Saei route, and passed by the crane tragedy. No, it happened much early than my arrival, but the crane was still leaning by the Haaraam building. It was cordoned off for obvious reason, and according to ustaz JUfri, the construction team were in the midst of securing the crane when the sandstorm hit Makkah.

I guess had the sandstorm not hit Makkah, it would not have fell, or had the team completed their work, it would not have happened either. Tragedy or accident did not happen due to a single event, so I was told by Air Crash Investigation and Seconds before Disaster.

Soon we can see the Janadriyah hotel from afar. It has been a long walk, especially on a hot day. The picture was taken from Harrizam.blogspot.com without permission, with thanks. Apparently according to Judane, the hotel is 750 meter from The Marwah. It is quite possible, but it felt like a very long kilometre walk for me.

I was just looking forward to let loose in Makkah, after the incident the day before. Being with your schoolmates, one is allowed to be teenager again and be young again, albeit a young pious teen!

Hope I am bragging enough hahaha!

Soon, we were having teh tarik and roti canai by the side of the hotel. It is an older part of Makkah. It is perhaps more fun to be there than the mall at the clock tower.

It was quite a long meal, perhaps nearly two hours we were there.  This is my 3rd trip to Makkah, and I never had so much fun chatting and reminiscing about the old day. I am sure we can talk about the same topic over and over again till the end of our lives.

As we said goodbye to each other, Judane had other idea. "Let's visit the 3rd Expansion," he said. Earlier Ustaz Jufri told us that they had just open that section of the new mosque (i.e. today, two days before wukuf).

New open area to the pilgrim. Saudi 3rd expansion of the holy mosque

I can assure you that it is like a Maharajah palace; a palace fit for an emperor, and it is fully aircondtioned. To be honest, one does not need hotel anymore. I can stay in the mosque all day long, and I guess many did.

The ablution and toilet area are within the mosque, I guess at the basement, so one need not have to go outside to do the needful.

The entrance

The corridor

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Beautiful, isn't it? Though it goes against my belief of the need to be luxurious. But there is a need to be comfortable.

After exploring the new section, we decided to for tawaf sunat using the circular mataf. It is a long walk to find the ramp to enter the mataf and one can't do it within the mosque itself. One would have to walk to near the At-Tawhid to go to the top mataf. But we only found the entrance to the top mataf, which was uncovered.

And that's what we did at 11 am which to my mind was the peak of the noon sun.

The view from the top Mataf at 11 am on Sept 21, two days before wukuf

Judane obviously was very fit. It goes without saying for this lecturer of public health at USM. YOurs truly obviously weren't; I can barely keep up with him. But the sun was just above our head and the vinyl flooring  of the mataf made it worse, since there is no roofing. We have nowhere to hide, but continue our seven circumbulation. 

I can tell you the flooring is very hot; I keep on walking on the shade of the metal siding. Since the sun was nearly overhead, the shadow is very narrow, but it helped. You can feel that the floor covered by the shade is much cooler. It barely cover the tenth of a single foot, but I can assure that you would take anything to relieve you from the scorching sun.

In the end, I had blister on my foot, and I was walking with a slight limp due to that blister. I was getting nervous if this continued on - I know I need to do a lot of walking and now I am limping. May be, I told myself later, I should not have done it.

But with friend, you found that extra energy to do things one would not do alone.

By the time we completed our tawaf, it was zuhr and we quickly get out and went to the saei area and did our zuhr there and then parted company.

Now limping, I went on a zam-zam water drinking spree and with each glass of water, I was praying hard to Him; asking him for a full recovery from my blister. And He heard me.

By the time we were ready for Wukuf, I walking normally again.

We were two days away from wukuf.

EPILOGUE

I never had experienced such extreme temperature in my life. Not in Melbourne, not in Houston. At least I don't remember it. The worst I had experienced was Feb in Perth, just prior to my my leaving for uni life in Melbourne.

It was a hot day, with the fan in full swing in that Beatty Park apartment in Perth. Still, we could not stand it, so I suggested to open the window to let the air in. Upon opening the window, a gush of air hit my face. It was furnace hot. I quickly close back the window.

And we satiated ourselves with indoor air.

Later on I found that the peak temperature that day was 44 C!

Haj 2015 : Part I The Tribulations

PROLOGUE

I thought I would never be able to complete the fifth, and final, pillar of Islam.

Just imagine 2 to 3 million people converging to the same city at the same time, and making it worse, to the same locality (village, if you must). Imagine our North-South hiway being inundated with thousands of buses carrying these millions of pilgrims. Imagine if KLCC were the masjidil haraam, we need to ferry these people to, say, Shah Alam; take Shah Alam as Arafah.

At the same time!

Then from Shah Alam, on the same night, bring them over to Petaling Jaya (Mudzalifah) and then onward to Cheras (Mina), and house them all there for 3 nights. How long do you think that simple journey from  would take? And beyond that, I can't imagine how the facilities can cope with these people. Tens of thousands of people need to relieve themselves; beyond the foods, the drinks, everything else that they would need.

What if the journey took hours to reach the destination. There are cases of journey that took more than 6 hours; even 12 hours were being reported by Kosmo journalist for the 2015 Haj. I was told that several years ago one bus even got lost, but luckily arrived just in time for the Wukuf. THe journey had started the day before!

The after-isya crowd

We could not even even handle the yearly exodus of balik kampung; that too through the length and breadth of the peninsular, so the space is much more than the Haj!

More than twenty years ago, I remember giving Mak half of my last bonus with PETRONAS for her to go for Haj (circa 1994). At that point in time, it did not cross my mind to offer myself to take her for the haj. The calling for me was not there yet. I should have though. I am sure I was entitled to get the Haj leave and it would be much easier for both mom and son.

I was then in my early 30s; young enough to do haj, but I guess then career came first (in hindsight, I do regret for not being there with Mak).

I confided in a good friend An - after visiting him and her wife Liza upon completing their haj, that I cannot comprehend myself competing with the other 2 millions muslim brothers and sisters for my share of space in the Holy Land. I cannot stand dirty toilets; in fact, I abhor dirty toilets. I know it is an uphill task to ensure cleanliness dealing with such big crowd from all parts of the world. I hate having to queue up to get my business done in the morning; or queue for my food, like I was in school again.

Taken from the net

And I don't really like big crowds; I hate noises. I seldom go to a place with crowd - fair, open-air concerts are not my cup of tea. I don't  mind them if they are well organized, and people are orderly.

And I hate being stranded in a bus for hours.

How do I go to the mosque when I need to be there 1-2 hours before prayer time; can the mosque cope with the millions of us? What will happen to my sleeping hours?

So these were partially reasons why I have not completed my haj going into 5-series. Reasons, I would say, but more like excuses, if I were to be honest and blunt. 

And to make matter worse, the line of people queuing up for haj keeps on getting longer and longer. Actually my turn would come in 2041; may be long after I was dead. They need to wake me up in my grave, I joked with friends. Stale joke, I must add.

It is with the background, I started my Haj journey in 2015 after failing to get a visa for two consecutive years. It seems that the journey in 2015 is much more real. Things seems to be moving in the right direction from the start. The travel agent was very positive that we will get our visa, especially that for my uncle - a Korean airline captain, who could only return a couple of days before actual departure to have his passport stamped with Haj visa.

MY JOURNEY - Part 1 (The Tribulations)

A week before departure, I was still unsure if I am going. Deep in me, I felt something was not right.  May be I should not be going/ May I should postponed my trip? Would Allah accept me to be His guest this time around? Go next year may be. I am not sure why. I was so fickle minded the last few days.

The first test of the journey came without warning, and I did contemplate cancelling/postponing the trip because of it.

I had hemorrhoids a few days before departure!

It was painful, to be honest. As I had mentioned, I have had issues with the toilets in Makkah and Madinah, and He tested me before I even set my foot in Makkah itself. With hemorrhoids, my apprehension with toilet cleanliness and the state of affair in relieving oneself went to another level, something beyond me to comprehend the tribulation I was facing.

He knew my dilemma and weakness, and I was being tested to the fullest. I knew I should have kept my view to myself!

So I rushed to see my GP and he assured me that by giving me the best hemorrhoids medicines, including antibiotic and something for you to shove into you know where [sigh], I should be ok i.e. no surgery would be needed. But would I recover enough to go on the journey?

"InsyaAllah, just make sure you do not carry your luggage yourself. Use porter to assist you, and do take the medications I gave you," the doc told me.

The day before the flight, I was still talking on this subject matter with another schoolmate Haji Rosli Harun. "Man," he said, "go and see this doctor in Puchong and I can guarantee you in ten minutes you would be fine." It was a lengthy conversation as he tried to convince me to take the bull by its horn. He has done his haj; he knew I may have problems performing the haj with hemorrhoids.

But Friday (18th Sept) was the last day of packing for me. Since I had just moved to a new home, and with the flight tomorrow I knew I didn't have the time to visit the doctor in Puchong. There were just so many things to do.

I decided to leave my fate in His hand. Redha is the proper islamic term and concept; I would take it as such.  I thought after all my apprehensions about going for Haj all these years, I deserved it.

May He forgives all my sins.

So I only completed my packing the night before the flight, and the pain of hemorrhoids has not really subsided by then. It has improved, but it was still there and it was still painful.

The flight was full so much so we did not get what we wanted, but we were happy to be on-board

So we did not have the best of start, to be honest. But things went ok at the airport and the flight. The food was not great, as we were always served last, due to our seating location, so whatever meals we wanted would have been gone by then, but it was no big deal. The flight was smooth, no heavy turbulence; it was an immemorable  flight.

The way I like it.

But as I was tested the week before departure, my apprehension of the journey came to its full manifestations. 16 hours after landing in Jeddah, we have yet to step our feet at the hotel. In fact, we were left stranded in some not-so-remote part of Makkah for nearly 3 hours, next to a dump area. In fact, we have no clue as to our location. This is not what I had bargained for. We knew the clock tower is somewhere behind the hills, and were looking forward to rest in our hotel, but the bus would not budge, and would not take us to our destination.

Where on the signboard that it says Maktab 68? This was taken about 1 hour after arrival. It was still dark

Later on we found out that we were supposed to register ourselves at Maktab 68 prior to going to our hotel. The irony was that we were at Maktab 68, but we didn't know about it. There was no indication that that building was indeed Maktab 68 - either in Arabic or the Roman alphabets. Since we didn't register, the bus can't leave with us on-board. But nobody told us until much later what were supposed to happen for us to continue our journey to the hotel.

It is a new day dawning. Maktab 68 is the second building on the left

Our agent was nowhere to be seen.

Stranded by dump site.

After two hours waiting in the bus, an Indonesian guy approached us and asked us about our destination, and informed us that we need to register ourselves, before we could go to hotel. They can't leave with us on-board. Now we know what we have to do; so I went to an office inside the building and register our group.

(Later on, we offered him some compensation for finally solving our predicament, but he declined.)

However, the guy handling the registration were quite obnoxious, to be honest. A Thai national from southern Thai, he chided me for not coming up to register upon arriving earlier. But who would have known; nobody informed us of that procedure.  I bluntly told him that this is my first haj, so how would I have known the procedures. Should they not come down and tell us what to do instead?

"Who is going to pay for this registration?" he asked me, looking very stern. Pay? Nobody said anything about having to pay anything in Makkah. We had paid our dues to the agent and I was not about to fork out a single riyal to him. I told him so.

I can be nasty and I am sure I can quite sarcastic, but my mind was set on doing haj and being His guest, so I controlled my emotion and just say enough to get us out of jail, so to speak.

I was there as His (special) guest, and these people want to make life difficult with procedures, as if that we are seasoned Haj travelers, when they are there to assist.

So arriving at that location at 4 am in the morning,  we were there until 7 am. Next to a garbage dump. It was a testing time for us; a real test to our patience. We were hungry by then, and some of us had missed our dawn prayer.

The agent Hj Amin arriving to pick us up

Haji Halim went to buy breakfast

It was after 7 am only our travel agent Hj Amin arrived at the scene; we were furious, and he was apologizing profusely to us. We had paid him good money and we were not ready to accept excuses for failing to deliver. People had committed crimes all in the name of Islam; and some even sold God's name for their own shortcomings, and not deliver what they had promised to deliver. This was not as bad, but we have heard too many stories of travel agent failing to deliver their part of the bargain to the pilgrims and they gladly sold Allah's name to silent any dissent.

Not the best of start, but then we were in our ihram and just want to complete our umrah as soon as possible. I believe we checked in by 0900 hours - 12 hours after landing and went on to complete our umrah before zuhr time. We finally can rest and reflect.

It was four days before wukuf.

We can only pray that we will have no more hiccups and blunders by the agent, and I just hope my hemorrhoids would subside quickly.

The haj has not even started and yet I felt like I was being tested to the fullest already. I hope it was not a sign of things to come.

But I had my reward early on too. Contacting my former schoolmates who were already in Makkah, after settling down at my hotel, we quickly set a teh-tarik-roti-canai reunion session at Tabung Haji HQ. It was a beautiful reunion at holy land. I had not met Art Imam since we left Maktab at the end of 1980, so I had not seen him for 35 years. I had met and talked to Judane more frequently than MatLee, but seeing friends at the holy land - you can beat that joyness.

Simple meal on the pavement for former schoolmates

I was not posing for the pictures. I was just happy to be among friends; that's all.  Life is full of tribulations, the reward was worth the effort. Doc Judane arrived on the 16th, 3 days before I did, and he was still in his ihram. Good on ya, doc. I have to tabik spring for him!

I was only prepared to do the normal (tammattu) haj.

By this time too, all my tribulations earlier have been forgotten.

(to be continued...)

EPILOGUE

I am a bit apprehensive to write about my experience at Haj, to be honest. It is after all my personal journey, and not something to be told to strangers, especially if one were not asked. It is a story to be told verbally to close friends only.I had never written about my umrah beyond visiting some old and ancient site near Madinah.

But I relented after reading the journey of Metro journalist Roslan Ibrahim (12 November 2015) entitled Arafah-Makkah 12 Jam).I thought I have a story to tell and I think I would like to encourage others to take up the Haj as soon as possible.

And please forgive me if I sound like bragging. May Allah forgives me.

The Search for a New Home - Part 1

PROLOGUE

After 13 years of living in the same house - the longest ever, I got itchy again and started looking for another house.

Many factors are involved in making the move; some of which I could reveal here, but some are better left untold. What I could reveal here is that the present house is the longest duration I had ever stayed in my life. When we were kids, every five to 6 years, bapak would be transferred to another location, so we never got to stay at a location long enough.

Taiping 195x

Batu Gajah 196x 

Lenggong 1968-1972 (3 houses)

Taiping 1973 - 1978  (3 houses)

Kuala Kangsar 1979-1984 (3 houses)

Taiping 1984~

Same with my adulthood.

Taiping 1986-1987

Kerteh 1988-1992 (3 houses)

KL- 1992=1993

Melaka 1994

Johor Bahru 194-1995

KL 1995-1998 (2 houses)

Houston - 1998-1999

KL 2000~ (2 houses)

From here on, I would have to break it down to specific suburbs within Kuala Lumpur.

2000 Taman Kosas Ampang

2001 Hussein Onn

and we moved in into our present home in 2002.

Thirteen years have passed and now we are on the move again. This is basically the story of our search for a (new) home. This is for our own record, 20 years from now.

The Search was on

We have gotten used to Hussein Onn and the surrounding area. Nothing fancy or to shout about, it is not exactly a posh area of KUala Lumpur. Cheras is not known to be just that. But it is located to the South side of Kuala Lumpur, and with Arif frequenting the airport on a daily basis, it is not too bad a location for us as a family. He does not have to enter town. It is better than being located in Ampang, or Selayang on the Northern side of Kuala Lumpur.

The same goes for me. I work on the South side of KL too.

So we had chosen the right location to live as our lives evolve.

But more importantly, this is where Mak permanently lies. Mak's grave, that is. I just could not think of moving out of Cheras. I could consider location within 5-10 mins of Mak's grave, but I could never leave her alone in this area. 

So Shah Alam, Damansara, Ampang, Gombak are out of question. With that in mind, I scoured all of Cheras area. 

MRT is coming to Hussein Onn and Kajang; it is at our doorsteps. We could not go wrong to live here. It is not as expensive as PJ/Damansara and should have similar amenities, if not better. It may not have the The Curve, but I don't need the The Curve or even IKEA in my life.

We have everything that we need within 15-20 min drive. More importantly, it would be less than 15 mins to visit Mak anytime of the day. That's good incentive for us to stay in Cheras.

So we shortlisted these areas:

1. Hussein Onn

2. Sg Long and Surrounding

If we were to stay put in Hussein Onn, we are 2-3 mins away from Mak. If we decide to move to Sg Long, we could still be within 10-15 mins away from her. Either way it is a win-win situation. I would not feel so guilty in moving.

But I also knew I have 13 years of memories here in this house. Mak also frequently used to stay for weeks at my home, so we all do feel sad if we need to leave this house. The kids grew up in this house obviously, so I am sure they would be more sentimental than I would. But we have outgrown this house. We need more privacy and quieter place. We need more rooms and space, not just for guests, but for ourselves too. We need a family living hall - a place we can all lepak - and not worry having to tidy it up to in receive guests; we need an audio room. We need an expanse area for the eyes, rather than being blocked by houses on all four corners. As if one is living in a shoebox.

But we don't really need a very big garden that I would find difficult to maintain on my own. It would be nice though, but it is not a requirement.

But I have to admit. Nothing is ideal. We could not get all the specs we need within a single home. There would always be shortcoming. House is a bit too small, the road leading to the house runs through a run-down area, morning might be jammed up a bit etc. We might not even like the tiles used.

But I guess we can be fussy about what we want. And I guess I could decide to build my own. But I don't have the time or the strength to go through building my own home.

So the search is on.

Revisiting Twenty Year Old (Lost) Shares

PROLOGUE

Take care of everything that you own. Or else, somebody would enjoy it on your behalf.

In the 90s, I came to know through my uncle that his dad - my Tok Bab - owned a few acres of land in Kuala Kubu Baru. We were sure that the land is worth millions now.  Even if they are not, they would be worth a small fortune.

But with his demise, where would I even start?

Similarly, we know that my maternal grandma also owned a few acres of land in Lenggeng, but who am I to start digging about all these properties? After all, her children - my aunties and uncles - are still alive and they should be the one who would be interested to get their hands on their mother's properties. I am after all, just a grandchildren.

As of now, someone else would be enjoying them.

PETRONAS Shares Twenty years on.

It is with this in mind that I started to dig into my own affairs to ensure my children would not face such dilemma. That everything that I own are known to them and are documented, and they would not have to fight with anybody to enjoy the benefit of the father's labour.

When I was working for an oil company, I was given two lots of an subsidiary that was listed that particular year. It was probably circa 93/94, I don't remember the exact year, to be honest. But soon after, I resigned and moved South, living in JB but working in Singapore.

With the hectic work schedule, and pace, coupled with the long commute, I had no choice but concentrate on my work and forget about the trivial stuff. Then I moved back to KL and later on the family move to Houston.

I have not forgotten about the shares I own, but at RM2.50 a piece, and not seeing them move much, I would prefer to not even think about it. I might as well try to earn more money elsewhere than trying to create a fortune from the small number of shares that I have. I knew the broker firm that I had signed on has long cease operation, and being someone not in the financial industry, I have no clue where to even start.

The shares were in the back of mind. Important, but not critical to my life.

Until early 2015 when I went to an investment seminar at the behest of my partner. While having my tea with a broker, I told him that while I am inactive in shares,  I probably have a couple of thousand shares of Petronas, which I bought at the original price or at discounted staff price.

The broker told me that in Sept 2014, they were worth RM34.00, I am told. A whopping RM34.00 per share, but now it was worth RM16.00.

Really?  I was surprised, and excited. Now I am interested to retrieve my shares. I really am interested. It is worth half of what it was 3 months ago, but still a lot more than what I had paid for them.

Fortunately, the broker at MIB was kind enough to dig as to who took over the operations of my broking firm. A couple of phone calls and a visit to their HQ, the problem is solved. I was given a new account, with my shares intact.

Alhamdulillan, and in the meantime, it is now worth at least RM20.00. 

But what about all the dividends that were paid the past twenty years? I had not gotten any.  I no longer lived in my registered address. I was all over the place. There had been too many homes, and houses that I had lived in. They would not know where to get hold of me.

I had to contact the company that handles PETRONAS shares. Symphony was kind enough to dig into their own record from 1995. Even with today's MIS and all the wonderful software applications, not all have been updated into their database. Mind you, the early to mid-90s, it was just the beginning of computerization, and even then another company was handling this share. But did they did recover the info, and after 6 months, they were able to have a clear picture of my shares. Apparently I have only received the first three dividends, and by 2014, they had issued 51 cheques for dividend altogether.

Four of the 51 cheques.

So immediately they issued 4 current cheques (for year ending Dec 2014) this week (in July 2015). How much? I can assure you that I am thankful.

Most of these dividends have been sent to Unclaimed Monies Registrar, and I would have to request that these monies be re-paid to me. Dividend alone, I calculated, they have been worth twice the original worth of the shares. Not too much, I guess, but more than enough as far as I am concerned. I did not realize that I have such monies in the first place, and I am nearly there to retrieve all that are due to me.

The share price has dropped quiet a bit since the height of Sept 2014, due to the depressed oil price, but they are still 8-9 times of what I originally paid for them. I am hoping sooner or later it would be back at RM30 or more. Wishful thinking may be, but again, I am thankful to Allah. 

If I had been meticulous enough during those days monitoring the share market, I would have probably sold them, as the prices has not risen that much the first ten 10 year. I probably would have gained RM0.50 perhaps over issuance price.

But persevere, or in my case, I just lost interest in it, and revisiting them nearly 20 years later, I found my small fortune.

20 years after I left my service at the national oil corporation, I am still reaping of the good work done by the management, indirectly and directly. I am proud to be part of it and contributing in my own small way during my time.

Berakhirnya Epilog Cinta dari Leederville

After 34 years.

34 long years. May be a bit too long, I must admit, but life has a cruel way of manifesting itself. Move on; experience new life, meet new people. Leave all the pasts behind.

Yeah, the more un-romantic way of looking at things. Not me; I don't look at things in that manner.

Truth be told - I did not have the opportunity to return. Life conspired against me returning when I could still recognize things. Ideally, time should have stood still (for me). Everything would be still be intact. The landmark; the streets, the school and the house that we rented.

It would really be a walk down memory lane. I probably would still see and meet the younger me.

[sniff, sniff - pass me the tissue please] LOL

But 34 years old is a bit too long not to see someone. From a slim 18 year old boy, I now have white hairs, on the good side of me. On another side, I have none. I am over half a decade mark now. I have a big gut now, of course. She would not recognize me at all in this state.

But I am not alone in growing old. She did too.

And I can hardly recognize her. She in her own way has expanded a lot  - on all sides of her. From a slim her, she has overgrown her much. I am not sure I like her in this state. I certainly could not recognize her anymore.

Of course there are traits and names I still recognize. Mitchell Freeway, West Leederville, Oxford Street, Bourke Street.

And of course Cambridge Street.

Combo pix of me in front of Cambridge Court in1981 with my roommate and in 2015 with Arif and Akmal

Specifically 50 Cambridge Street.

This is the apartment I nearly burnt down, while cooking my rice on the stove. It is still intact. It is every way that I can remember. Exactly the way I would remember them.

Walking down Cambridge St, crossing the Mitchell Freeway and walking along Oxford Street to Leederville Teh. I'll alwyas remember that.

On weekend, we would visit our seniors at the University of Western Australia in the suburbs of Nedland/Crawley. Of course posing at the Swan River would be a must, especially with the yacht in the background.

That's me and friends in 1981 at 18, and the boys in 2015 in their early twenties.

At last, the romance of Perth (in my mind) is gone. It is still a nice and beautiful city; that I have to acknowledge.

But the romance is no longer there. Sort of. I am free at last.

Thank goodness!