Al-Azhar

Assalam u alaikum,

I hope everyone everywhere is doing well and in the best of health and iman. Alhamdulillah I'm doing well and my classes are going really well. I had my test for Level III today and I did the first lesson in Level 4 (Muhaddathah). I have my oral test tomorrow with Mr. Waleed, so just pray that I do well in that. That's what counts, right? My ability to speak Arabic, not just know all the rules.

Going to Masjid Al-Azhar yesterday was surreal. That's the word that keeps popping up in my head. Surreal. Going on those narrow streets, seeing the minarets soaring above you, walking in a masjid a thousand years old...it's an non-reproducible experience. Subhanallah.

We went there with the intention of getting a grammar book (Al-Nahw al-wadhih) and a dictionary book (Al-Qamus al-Waseet). A really nice student from Al-Diwan named Arif came along with us to help look. From Arif bhai (he's Pakistani and lives in London) I truly learned about hospitality. He helped us with no intention of any kind of reward and gave up almost half his day to help us find these books. It would have been so much harder without him. May Allah reward him with the best rewards.

After a half an hour taxi ride (this time without getting ripped off), we arrived at Shari' Al-Azhar. That first sight of the masjid was one of those moments when time stands still. For the first time I understood why people keep harping on and on about an "Islamic civilization." Sometimes I would get a little frustrated, "I know there was an Islamic civilization! But what about right now, huh? Why do you keep looking in the past all the time??!!" But at that moment, I understood. We have a history. We're not just lily pads with no roots, floating dead in the water. We came from somewhere, and we're going somewhere insha'allah. "You have forgotten who you are, Simba," I remember from somewhere. But don't worry, we will remember, insha'allah.

The first thing we did was go to Masjid Al-Azhar and pray Jum'ah. I was unfortunately very tired from playing soccer in the morning (insha'allah Mustafa is going to write about that) so I didn't understand very much. Actually I forgot to mention that before the khutbah we listened to qirat of a really famous reciter. He was reading Surah Al'-Imran,

"And by the Mercy of Allâh, you dealt with them gently. And had you been severe and harsh­hearted, they would have broken away from about you... If Allâh helps you, none can overcome you; and if He forsakes you, who is there after Him that can help you? And in Allâh (Alone) let believers put their trust."

At that last ayah everyone in the audience recited, "la ilaha ghayruka ya Allah" (there is no god apart from you O Allah [that can help us afterwards]." I got shivers up my spine. I was one with my people and my Allah.

I was struck by the fact that unfortunately neither the qari or the khateeb had a beard. That made me kind of sad. Afterwards I found out that many Egyptians, including my teacher Ustadh Ibrahim, have never been to Al-Azhar because the imam is controlled by the government and isn't allowed to say what he wants to, consequently making people like my teacher disgusted by the watered-down khutbahs. But it was very beautiful to pray in Al-Azhar. Like I said, surreal.

Afterwards we began our search for the books. I thought it would be simple, like how we do it in Canada. We go to one bookstore or maximum two bookstores and we have the book. No such luck (mis-luck?).

"Assalam u alaikum."
"Wa alaikumusalam."
"Kayf halak?"
"Alhamdulillah, quwayis."
Hal indaka al-nahw al-wadih?"
"Laa wallahi."
"Aw al-qamus al-waseet?"
"Laa wallahi."

Again and again and again.

It was fun though (it would have been even more enjoyable had our legs not been completely exhausted from soccer). Walking in the winding streets where all the bookstores were clustered all together. It was like we had stepped back a couple hundred centuries and we were in the old streets of Cairo. The only time we would be jerked back to reality would be when we see a gaggle of Egyptians around two foreigners with a camera (it's funny I don't think of myself as a foreigner anymore), trying to get themselves in the video. Or when we went to buy some pepsi (please Ammi don't be mad we needed to get some sugar into us otherwise we would have collapsed) from a coffee shop and the guy said the price for one pepsi was 10 guineas! Usually a pepsi is one guinea.

When we laughed at him, he said, "Hey dis is a cofi shop. If you want pepsi for one guinea, then grocery over there is." (No he didn't talk like Yoda he talked like a very annoyed Egyptian.)

Alhamdulillah we did manage to find the books, and then we left for home with Arif bhai in the taxi. Of course, getting home is not just a simple matter of getting of the taxi at our house. It always has to be a little more complicated.

In front of our house is a Caltex station. The landlord had said that this Caltex station was "very famous" so I assumed that there was only one Caltex station in Nasr City. So of course, being the smart person I am, as soon as I saw a Caltex station I thought, "Hey, instead of going all the way to Abbas Al-Akkad (where Arif bhai was getting off) and then walking back, why don't I get off now?" So I said, "Qif," to the taxi driver and Mustafa and I got off. Only then we realized that we were standing in front of the wrong Caltex station. I guess our Caltex station is "famous" for a reason other than being the only station in Nasr City.

Eventually we took another taxi and got home alhamdulillah. We were so thirsty and exhausted we bought another pepsi bottle each from a little stand by our house and sat on the curb, drinking pepsi. I have to say, sitting there drinking pepsi with sun shining golden through the bottle after visiting The Azhar was one of the nicest experiences in my life. Like I said, surreal.

Evening brought on more sober feelings. Where had everything gone? Hundreds of years ago they could build monuments that pointed to Allah that still evoked awe and wonder. Why was it that now the masjids were empty? Where are those scholars that made Al-Azhar the center of learning? Where our Imam Shafi'is, who is buried in this city? I sat thinking as I watched the fashionably dressed Egyptian youths chatting with "modest" girls and laughing and smoking. But somehow I knew that the Being who made Al-Azhar possible was still there, it was just a matter of us finding him. As I watched the golden setting sun, my heart lifted.

الله اني اسالك حبك و حب من يحبك و حب عمل يقربنا ألى حبك يا دل جلال و الأكرام

Ma'asalam,

~Ameer

p.s. Besides, who could be sad with the thought of soccer next week, insha'allah?