The traveler of Baitullah (1)

 

All people in the world have some dreams and people live by dreaming.  Dreams are the life of man and dreams are the basis of life.

 People's dreams of life are different, but the dream of a believer's life is only Baitullah in Deeder and Madinah in Ziarat.  The believer dreams of black robes and green domes.  One day he will circumambulate Baitullah and offer Nazrana of Salam on the Nabi's fast - this sweet dream keeps the believer alive.  This dream is the life of the believer, this dream is the foundation of his life.  That is why the poet of Bengal has been able to say - Muhammad is the Messenger of God in my eyes.

 Another poet of another country said-

Do not want wealth, do not want fame and honor

 O Allah, I only want the shade of your house'

The path that will lead to the holy land of Madinah

 Abhagare, O Merciful One, show the footprints of that path'.

 God has given the poet rhythm so he can express the yearnings of his heart and the pleas of his soul.  But this desire and plea is not his alone.  This is the longing and plea of ​​the hearts and souls of all believers in all countries of all ages.  But man can only cherish dreams in his heart.  Can't fulfill dreams.  When Allah wills, when Allah shines the stars of someone's fate only then his dream of Baitullah and pilgrimage to Madinah is fulfilled, sometimes at the beginning of life, sometimes at the end of life.  Sometimes once, sometimes repeatedly.  And how many believers' dreams remain only dreams throughout their lives.  Their hearts only burn with the fire of love and tears only fall from their eyes, they only burn with the fire of Ishaq, and the hours of waiting count in the pain of grief, but the call of Baitullah does not come, the call of death comes before it.  They go to the grave with the pain of dreams.  Thus some gain the joy of dreams, some bear the pain of dreams.  So we see poetry of dream achievement and satisfaction in different languages ​​of the world as well as poetry of pain and confusion.  I hear the sound of laughter as well as the sound of waves of tears.  One stood near the Baitullah and next to the green dome and said with all the calmness of the heart.

The mind is calm

 Blessed is life

 Now comes the embrace of death

 I will welcome him with a smile.

 Another person stood far away on the shore of the sea crying with tears in his eyes.

 Alas, the days of life are over

 Slowly the darkness of the evening came

 The grave call came

 The house call did not come.

 But I believe that the joy of the success of the believer's dream and the pain of the failure of the dream, both are dear to Allah.  So he fulfills the dreams of some, and leaves the dreams of others unfulfilled forever.  Ishq and Muhabbat and the world of love and love is very mysterious.  Here the meaning of life is only in dreaming, not in achieving or not achieving the dream.  The deeper the appeal of the dream and the more poignant the prayer of the dream, the more beloved is the dream to Allah, whether it is wet with the joy of getting it, or bitter with the pain of not getting it.  One is called again and again and again and again he joins the Hajj tour, the Hijaz caravan.  Another spends his whole life just standing by the side of the road and watching the caravans of pilgrims leave and return.  But no one can say, who is more beloved to Allah, the traveler in the white dress of Ihram, or this strong servant of Allah who is standing on the side of the road and looking with a bewildered eye!  So my salutations to all those who dream beautifully;  For those whose dreams have been fulfilled and for those whose dreams are just calling out to Dahuk.  Because dreaming of both is worthwhile, if Allah accepts.

I salute the tears of those whose eyes shed tears of joy holding the black shroud of the Kaaba and standing beside the green dome of Madinah.  Because those tears could be the dew falling on the flower petals in the garden of Paradise.

 My congratulations to the tears of those whose eyes shed tears of pain just standing on the path of the caravan of Hajids and burned with black and green.  For those tears may rain from the clouds on the fire.

 I don't remember exactly when the dream of Deeder Baitullah and Ziarat Madinah germinated in my little heart.  I only remember the scene of Hazrat Hafezzi Huzoor going and returning from Hajj.  He was my grandfather's friend, hence our grandfather.

 I vividly remember one time, grandfather and grandmother returned from Hajj.  I watched them in amazement.  I thought they were from another world.  I remember a lot, now I don't remember much.  Grandmother and grandfather gave me dates from Madinah Sharif and made me drink the 'water of Makkah Sharif'.

 About forty years, but I clearly remember, in the tone of Karun Abdar, I asked, Grandfather, do not take me to the house of Allah!  What thoughts came to the mind of the old man who came back from the house of God!  Did he make any dua for that foolish child?  Or how the owner of the house accepted the stupid child Abdar!  This address is wrong!  Did he laugh the smile that was mentioned in the hadith for the sake of the servant and wrote something new in the pen of destiny in favor of the servant?

 Hazrat Hafezzi Huzoor Rah.  On that day he said to that ignorant child, Inshallah I will take you to the house of Allah.

This was the first dream in my heart of Deedare Baitullah and Ziarat Madinah, the first bud of the dream.  A foolish child's foolish dream, Yet a dream and a holy dream.  The small dream of a small heart is less valuable to God than the big dream of a big heart!

 Then Hazrat Hafezzi Huzoor.  Many times went to the house of Allah and returned.  I saw him and thought, how lucky he is!  Can I be like him?  Can I go to God's house like him?  Thus the sprout of my dream gradually spread the shade of green in my heart.  There was a feeling of happiness and a thrill of joy in the soft part of that dream.  But I still did not understand the pain and suffering of dreams, the confusion and restlessness of dreams, the waves of tears in the heart and tears from the eyes.

 Perhaps for the first time after twenty springs of my life I felt the sweet pangs of a dream, when my beloved Ustad Hazrat Paharpuri Huzoor left for the house of Allah on Hajj.  That was his long four-month visit with Hazrat Hafezzi Huzoor.  It was rainy season before Ramadan, boats were tied at the door of our house.  After Maghrib I took Huzur, the passenger of the House of Allah, across the river by boat.  My heart was melting and my eyes were full of tears.  Perhaps that was the first time I sent through my beloved Ustaz the Najrana of Salam and offered the desire to stand in Multazam holding the veil of the Kaaba and pray.

Huzoor got off the boat and left.  I looked at the path of the traveler of Baitullah.  That scene still floats in my eyes.  He had a smile on his face, tears in my eyes.  I cried a lot when I came back with the boat.  My tears were mixed with the water of the river that day.  Once I thought, if I continue on this river with a boat, then one day I will reach the holy land of Hijaz!  Or my boat will be broken by the stormy waves of the sea!  My dream will sink!  When I remember the pain of the unfulfilled dream that arose in my chest while sitting in the boat on the river, I still feel a sweet feeling in my heart.  That pain makes you want more.  I looked at the starry sky above with bewildered eyes.  I saw nothing but the twinkling of stars, but it was believed that he who was behind the light of this twinkling star could see and hear.  He is kind and generous.  So I was praying with all my heart for Amma, Abba and me;  For the fulfillment of all our dreams.  Our dream is not for luxury or any gross pleasure of life.  Our dreams are only of black gowns and green domes.  Our dream is only love and love and Abe jamjam, Abe Kawchar!

Later on, when the greatest moment of supreme happiness came in Abba's life, when he left for the house of Allah on the Hajj journey, I observed another beauty of the dream cherished in the heart of the believer.  If you want to know any comparison of that beauty, then I will say, I have not found any other beauty in life and the world.  There was a system of lottery then, the name will come or not;  What's in luck, laugh, not cry!  This wonderful light-shadow of hope and fear on Abba's face.  Once like the light of the moon, once like the shadow of the clouds.  When Abba's name was announced by the announcer's voice, he rose from his seat and sat down.  He laughed and cried.  A smile on the face, tears in the eyes.  Oh, if only I could show you the beauty of the wonderful union of laughter and tears on the face of the visitor to Baitullah!  There are still pilgrims of Hajj, there is only the scene of laughter and tears!  Fortunately, I got to see that holy look on my father's face.  The green tree of dreams cherished in my heart became greener, more lively.  That was the happiest moment in my life.  Abba wrote a letter for me from the house of Allah.  No matter how many times I read that letter, I am not satisfied, I read it again, I read it again.  This letter came in my name from the house of God!  Every word of this letter is like a flower, every word is like a flower fragrance.  Abba wrote about standing on the bank of jamjam drinking jamjam water;  That's how I got the taste of Abe jamjam.