Like every year, I feel I’m not fully prepared for Ramadan, But like everyone else I have spoken to in the past few days, There is a certain desperation that has come with this year’s Ramadan The yearning to bury ourselves in the sanctity of Quran To seek solace and guidance in the embrace of faith The deep desire to want to throw ourselves broken and needy in front of Allah Begging and pleading To flush out our systems of the toxins that are heavy in the air around us For the world is broken and bruised and bleeding And we’ve all slowly but surely recognized and understood well that Only Allah can bring relief Only Allah has answers Only Allah can bring redemption Ramadan Mubarak May this month be a source of spiritual nourishment and beacon of hope for us all. #ramadankareem #ramadanmubarak #dubai🇦🇪

When the world is filled with turmoil and heartbreak, we do what we can to spread a sense of calm and peace Introducing “Barefoot - a seeker’s journey.” our first poetry book. It is a journey that seeks spiritual connection and fulfillment of the heart and soul. A spiritual odyssey… A beautiful, tranquil, visual and poetic odyssey - Peter Gould @petergouldart A beautifully crafted book of poetry and prose - Isobel Abulhoul @isobel8640 A pilgrimage set to the rhythm of words - Taher Adel Link in Bio to purchase! Do you enjoy poetry?

We rarely do book sales… so this is a rare and unique opportunity, only for the duration of Sharjah Intl Book Fair with our partners @booklandbooks1 We have made the sincere intention of donating all revenue from this sale. May Allah accept . Exclusive at Sharjah International Book Fair @sharjahbookauthority

From the rivers to the sea…

Part 6: The night in Muzdalifah Our teacher had warned us that by the time we reached Muzdalifah we would be unrecognizable, covered in dust and sweat, too exhausted to function. But he reminded us, "Allah loves us this way!". I couldn't think of a more fitting description. After the adrenalin rush of Arafah, Muzdalifah was the aftermath of a storm. There weren’t enough buses to Muzdalifah, so on an emotional high, we volunteered to walk to Muzdalifah about 7 kilometres away. A distance that would typically take 2 hours tops on an average day. But this was no average day. The first kilometre took us about 30 minutes navigating through a labyrinth of buses. The men complained that their bare calves were burning due to exhaust fumes from the buses. Although it was after sunset, the heat was relentless. Often, we had to form a single file, praying that the buses wouldn’t move and crush us. Once we got out of this entanglement, we joined the hordes of bone-weary pilgrims slowly moving along the pedestrian path. The path itself was lined with water sprinklers and trucks filled with food for the pilgrims. The sights around me were profoundly humbling. A stooping elderly man was in constant dhikr, putting one foot in front of the other in slow deliberate movements, determined to finish strong. Children, carried by fatigued parents, appeared almost dehydrated and drained by the evening heat. By 11:30 PM we could not move any further so we set up camp. We found tiny gaps among people and spread our prayer mats. We prayed and attempted to rest. Quite the challenge with the constant buzz of pilgrims moving and the heat radiating from the ground. I woke up after an hour feeling nauseous. I sat up and looked around me taking in the magnificence of my surroundings and I cried thinking of how powerless I felt. I prayed for dawn to arrive, to be able to move on with ease. A glimmer of comfort awaited me when I visited the restroom to freshen up for Fajr. To my delight, the toilets had been freshly cleaned with the scent of bleach and soap. A moment of respite amidst the challenging journey. With renewed energy, I felt prepared to face the busiest day of Hajj.