Written by: Ummehani Amijee
The past 5 years have been tough on me and my family. We fought battles on each front - health, emotion, finance. It felt like we couldn't catch a break. As 2019 rolled in, I had officially reached the end of my tether. Although things had slowly, but steadily improved over the years, I was drained of all energy and was going through the motions of life without actually living it. I was getting into arguments with everyone, my friends and family were walking on eggshells around me.
I think you get the point.
Sometime after the last Ramadan, I spoke to a close friend of the family about emigrating to another country, getting a job, settling down and then begin the process of moving my parents as well. He sat me down and said 'You're making rash decisions, you need to take a break and calm down. You know acting on this plan of yours will be taking a step back on multiple levels, not just careerwise.' He suggested I go to Karbala* for the ziyarat of Imam Husain AS and I agreed. With Moharram just round the corner I decided that I would visit Karbala during Ashara Mubaraka.
Right before I left, I met with my friend again and brought up the move, he once again shut me down and told me we would revisit this conversation once I came back from my trip. I scoffed, 'You're acting as if I will be a different person once I return.' He replied with unshakable resolve, 'You will be.'
Hence began my hunt for peace. I left for Karbala with only one thought on loop, I just want some peace of mind.
Upon reaching Iraq, I spent 2 days in Najaf al-Ashraf, which is the resting place of Maulana Ali AS and then departed for Karbala, which would be home for the remaining 11 days of my trip.
As Ashara Mubarak began, I immersed myself in the waaz and zikr of Imam Husain AS, shutting off the world outside (I've never been more thankful for spotty Internet connection) and the reality of where I was slowly, but surely, sank in. I was standing right where the beloved grandson of Prophet Mohammed ﵆ was martyred. Where the Prophet's ﵆ family were left starving and deprived of water for three days. Where the Imam's AS family was slaughtered in front of his eyes. Where his enemies spared not even his 6 month old infant. Where he left behind his family, alone and in a foriegn land.
Lost in the insurmountable grief of the tragedy of Karbala, I forgot to wallow in self-pity, or cry about my mundane problems. Remembering the enormity of what took place in Karbala reminded me that my problems were fleeting, that I could overcome them.
As I held on to that, my perspective changed. I no longer looked at life from the lens of despair because, although life has its obstacles, everything was insignificant in the light of the tragedy of Karbala. The tears I shed over the cruelty and injustice faced by Imam Husain cleansed me of all my worldly grief.
During this Aashur, along with millions of Shias around the world, I paid my respects to the Imam who sacrificed himself and his family for countless others who will come after him in Karbala.
This Aashur, I grieved a little more than the last, but never enough.
This Aashur, I wept for that Imam who was betrayed by his people.
This Aashur, my petty, first-world problems vanished in the magnitude of the sacrifice borne by my Prophet's ﵆ family.
Finally, this Aashur, I was more at peace with myself than ever before.
I've been back three days, and I tell everyone who asks about my journey 'Everything is exactly the way I left it, but I have changed.'
