There are no accidents

“There are no accidents, even falling leaves have been set by God.”

It was my last day in Mecca, I was sitting alone on a thin carpet in Masjid al-Haram, gazing at dusty Kaaba from afar. The sound of giant contruction machines touched my ears, flying the dust into my eyes. I raised my water bottle to my parched lips.

“May I use your cellphone?” asked a woman sitting beside me. She pointed at an old gadget near my bag. I blinked my eyes, thanking God for I brought my cellphone as I never carried it with me since the first day in Saudi Arabia. I nodded, handing it over to her.

After doing Dhuhr prayer that Moroccan woman named Fatima offered me to show the place where I could get free Islamic books. The afternoon sunshine seemed to bite my skin right after I walked out of the large mosque. Fatima and I rushed past a group of rich Indonesian women and found out the place closed.

“Look at them, Fatima. They are Indonesian, and rich. Who said Indonesian is a poor country?” I whispered, giving a sad glance to those busy-taking-pictures rich women.

“They are definitely rich,” Fatima grinned. “Hey, let’s go to the rooftop. I tried to go there yesterday, but the azkar stopped me. It’s prohibited for women.”

“Prohibited, and you asked me to go there with you?” I smiled.

Miraculously there were no azkars guarding the escalators which took us to the rooftop. I hardly believe we made it, standing at the rooftop, staring at Kaaba and the crowd down there.

“Just look at them,” Fatima’s eyes pointed at the crowd walking around the Kaaba in a counter-clockwise direction. “It is sad to see how people push each other in order to touch Kaaba. In fact Allah said no one is allowed to hurt his brothers and sisters. Kaaba is only a building, but your brothers and sisters are humans.”

I was pondering on the fact that how different Islamic teaching could be perceived out there due to the terrorism issues.

Azan filled the air. Fatima and I left the rooftop to perform Asr Prayer. After that, I kissed Fatima’s cheeks as Indonesian normally did when they wanted to say good bye. I thanked her for her hospitality and for our adventure.

Fatima smiled, held my hands, and whispered, “It’s for you. Buy something for your mom and dad.”

Puzzled, I just said thanks and left her. I still clasped the gift in my hands. After 100 meters away, I opened my hands and found 50 riyals.

“There are no accidents, including my encounter with Fatima.”

*Azkar: the guards in Masjid al-Haram