Mohsin Aziz
The journey from Arafat to Muzdalifa, though brief, was brimming with anticipation and spiritual weight. Muzdalifah is a vast, open plain situated between the sacred lands of Arafat and Mina, It holds deep significance in the sacred rites of Hajj. Its name, derived from the Arabic root meaning nearness, symbolizes the pilgrim’s closeness to the Divine after the pivotal day at Arafat.
Located to the southeast of Mina, Muzdalifah is more than just a resting place. It is a sacred pause. Here, pilgrims spend a night under the stars where hearts are stilled and prayers whispered into the open sky. It is also known as Al-Mash’ar al-Haram, or The Sacred Grove. It is also referred to as Al-Jam’, meaning “the gathering”. It is here that pilgrims from every corner of the world gather to rest together to get energy for the rest of the rites.
From the tranquil plains of Muzdalifah, pilgrims gather small, smooth, pea-sized pebbles—seemingly insignificant stones that will soon become symbols of resistance against evil. These pebbles are carried forward to Jamarat, where for three consecutive days, pilgrims perform Rami al-Jamarat—the ritual stoning of Satan, reenacting the unwavering faith of Prophet Ibrahim (peace be upon him).
In the quiet of Muzdalifah, beneath the canopy of stars and amidst the murmurs of prayer, the soul finds a moment of reflection, unity, and nearness to the Creator. Here, in the vast and silent expanse of Muzdalifah, beneath the open sky, pilgrims spend the night of the 9th of Dhul Hijjah in an atmosphere unlike any other. There are no tents to shield them, no fans to ease the heat, no air-conditioned comfort. Only sand beneath and the heavens above. It is a night of simplicity, humility, and reflection.
Up to this point, the uniformity of Ihram—two plain, unstitched white garments worn by every male pilgrim—had visually erased many distinctions. Yet, differences in worldly comfort still lingered on. Pilgrims arrived through a variety of arrangements. Some came on modest packages, staying in basic hotels, where even meals might not be guaranteed. Others, through premium packages, enjoyed the luxury of five-star accommodations near the Haram, complete with full board, air-conditioned transport, laundry services, and other conveniences.
Muzdalifah is the true culmination of equality for the pilgrim. Here, all distinctions dissolve completely. Here, status, wealth, and privilege lose their meaning. Everyone, regardless of background, sleeps on the same open ground beneath the vast night sky. There are no tents, no private enclosures. Only the most basic of facilities such as public toilets and washrooms are provided. Each pilgrim must find a small patch of earth, lay down a mat, and settle in for the night, shoulder to shoulder with millions of strangers.
In Muzdalifah, all return to the essence of Hajj—equal before God, stripped of excess, and united in submission. In the stillness of the night, beneath the stars, the pilgrim is reminded that true honour lies not in comfort or wealth but in faith, humility, and the sincerity of one’s heart. Pilgrims lie on the ground, and often dust tarnishes their white Ihram. It is a powerful reminder that one day, we all will go beneath the ground in our graves with only a few pieces of unstiched white clothes.
‘Everyone shall taste death. And only on the day of resurrection shall you be paid your wages in full. And whoever is removed away from the fire and admitted to Paradise, he indeed in successful. The life of this world is only the enjoyment of deception (a deceiving thing)’ (Al Quran, Surah Al Imran:185)
It is a reminder that whatever our position in life in terms of fame and economic status, we must not act haughty. Finally, we have to leave this world without all that we have so proudly achieved, made, and collected. Only provisions that will travel with us and accompany and benefit us in the next life are our good deeds that we send now. Muzdalifah reminds us of the ultimate truth, that everything faces except our relationship with Allah. It also puts our ego to dust and reminds us that in the end, everything will be dust.
By the time our bus reached the sacred ground, much of the space had already been taken. Pilgrims were everywhere—resting, praying, and searching for a patch of earth to call their own for the night.
Despite the simplicity, Muzdalifah is brightly lit, its floodlights cutting through the darkness like a reminder of the modern world intruding upon this timeless ritual. For someone like me, that light brings a particular struggle—sleep doesn’t come easily when the sky never truly darkens. But perhaps that, too, is part of the test: learning to rest the body while the soul remains awake to the deeper meaning of the journey.
A constant buzz filled the air over Muzdalifah. The rhythmic whir of helicopters and the soft, persistent hum of drones circling above cut through the stillness of the night. They hovered like silent sentinels, part of the Saudi government’s efforts to monitor and manage the immense crowd spread across the sacred plain.
In recent years, the authorities have taken steps to ease the pilgrim’s burden by laying down wide stretches of soft, carpeted flooring. But by the time we arrived, every inch of that comfortable area had been occupied. I managed to find a small spot near our bus, while members of our group quickly unrolled their plastic mats in a nearby open area.
My wife spotted an empty space about 25 yards away, nestled beneath two trees. Though it was nighttime and the shade didn’t matter in the traditional sense, we soon realized the trees offered unexpected advantages. First, their branches helped soften the glare of the powerful overhead lighting, creating a dimmer, more restful space. Second, the tree trunks—along with a nearby shrub—provided a modest sense of enclosure, a bit of privacy amidst the vast sea of pilgrims. Here, we not only found a secluded place but a touch of solace.
We opened our backpack, and like a magicians hat, things started rolling out. I had brought one cotton bedsheet, which I put on the mat. Our mat was on sand and was speckled with tiny pebbles. With a slightly thick bedsheet, the mat became a bit more cushy. It softened the ground beneath, offering just enough comfort for bodies to ease on it. We had also brought two light cotton blankets. We had a very small self inflatable pillow for my wife while I preferred my backpack as a pillow. By the time we were ready with our preparations, I could hear multiple azaans echoing beautifully. Their melodies weaving a serene tapestry of devotion across the ground.
It was time to pray maghrib and isha. It is Sunnah of the Prophet to pray maghrib and isha combined together, one after another. They are prayed at the time of isha. This is called Jama Takhir, i.e., combining late as they are combined at isha time and not at maghrib time. Thousands of small prayer congregations could be seen. It’s not practical to have one communal prayer, though there is a mosque at Muzdalifa.
The mosque at Muzdalifa is called Masjid Mashar al Haram. It is between Masjid Al Namirah at Arafat and Masjid Khaif at Mina. It can house about 12000 worshipers. There were just under 2 million people at Muzdalifa. There is no option for the rest to pray in their own groups. At isha time in Muzdalifa, there are thousands of Jamaat’s go on simultaneously. It’s a sight to behold. Every group does its own azaan and prayer. Our group was led by Asif bhai. He was our imaam (prayer leader) for both maghrib and isha. The first 3 rakaat of maghrib was prayed. It was followed by a shortened isha of 2 rakaat following the tradition of the Prophet.
After finishing prayers, I sat with my group, and we chatted a bit. At around 9, I came back to my place and started collecting pebbles. Jamal bhai had already gifted every group member small cloth pouches for keeping pebbles. Pebbles have to be collected for all three days of stoning. Each person needs 49 pebbles. 7 for the first day and 21 each for the next two days. I had to collect 98 pebbles for myself and my wife. I saw people collecting more than required in case somebody else requires pebbles. It would not be possible to go back and collect again. Pebbles can not be taken from anywhere. They have to be from the ground of Muzdalifah only. I took at least 25 pebbles extra.
After the pebbles were collected, we ate a very light meal for dinner. After Isha prayers, food packets were distributed by the Saudi government along with a small gift bag. The gift bag was prepared very thoughtfully. It had a water bottle, an umbrella, a sling bag, and a small plastic hand fan. I took only one gift bag and one food packet for both of us. The food packet had a water bottle, a bottle of juice, a croissant, and a chocolate cake. We took only the water bottle and cake from it. We divided the cake into two and both of us took half cake each. We had brought a small packet of dry nuts. We ate the nuts. From the gift bag, we kept the umbrella, hand fan, and sling bag. We left the water thermose there itself. In the morning, we had to go directly to Jamarat. We were not in a position to carry any extra weight.
After taking our light dinner, we did our azkar. We were now ready to sleep. It was going to be a unique experience for us – sleeping with the most diverse group of almost 2 million people gathered at one place from each and every nook and corner of the world. It is the Rahma of Allah Subhanahu Tala that between the busy day of Arafat and the tough day of first Jamarah, the night of Muzdalifah is not kept for prayers. It’s for taking rest and sleeping. This is the Sunnah of the Prophet. Here at Muzdalifa, the reward is not in Qiyamul Layl or recitation of the Quran or lots of azkar. Rather, the reward has been kept in sleep and rest. Subhan Allah.
In the small space we had carved out for ourselves, we lay down to catch a few hours of rest, for tomorrow promised to be long and demanding. Earlier that day, we had endured what was perhaps the hottest day of Hajj. At Arafat, not far from Muzdalifah, we had taken refuge inside our air-conditioned tent, shielded from the sun’s unrelenting blaze. And now, just a few hours later, we found ourselves lying under the open sky, our mat spread over coarse sand.
One side of our mat was two trees and a bush that gave us covering. On one side was a very large group of Egyptian pilgrims. On the other side were two pilgrims from our group. One Pakistani and a Bangladeshi. The Bangladeshi uncle was old. He had a very gentle demeanour, always a gentle smile on his face. The Pakistani person was a lecturer in some university in Oman. He had taken the responsibility of the Bangladeshi uncle. He never allowed him to do anything. He would always be running around and bringing food, water, or whatever required by the uncle. That is the spirit of Hajj. Taken care of each other. Helping each other.
Yet, to our surprise, the night air in Muzdalifah was merciful. The heat had receded. A delicate breeze stirred the leaves above us, rustling the branches with a soft, soothing rhythm. Each time the leaves parted, the moon revealed itself in all its brilliance, shining in a sky so clear it felt like a window to the divine. In that moment, it was easy to believe that Malaika (angles) had descended quietly from the heavens, and it was the fluttering of their wings that sent this blessed breeze drifting through the night.
Two small blessings made our stay at Muzdalifah noticeably more comfortable. The first was a pair of neck fans. It was indeed a thoughtful gift from my dear friend and colleague, Umar Ali Khan. Second was a power bank that my wife insisted on bringing. It was a small but powerful power bank. We both slipped on our neck fans, which we had fully charged earlier at our hotel in Makkah. Their quiet hum brought instant relief, gently circulating the cool night air around our faces.
To our pleasant surprise, the fans’ battery life endured far longer than expected. When mine eventually began to slow, I simply connected it to the power bank and drifted back into sleep. Altogether, we managed to rest for a full two and a half hours. It was a deep, undisturbed sleep. It was, contrary to all our earlier apprehensions, the most restful sleep we’d had in days—a gift of serenity cradled under the open sky.
I woke up in the morning to the sound of people chatting with each other. I realised that fajr time is near. I immediately went to the washroom and made wudu (ablution for prayer). Soon, Fajr Azaan was given, and prayer was held. Asif bhai was our imaam. After fajr prayers, UstadhWaseem (one of the muallims in the grouo) gave a small bayan and also explained about the plan for the day. Now we had to go to Jamarat for the first stoning of Satan. I had taken a lot of ORS (Oral Rehydration Solution) packets with me from Muscat. Before going to Jamarat, my last activity at Muzdalifa was to drink water with ORS mixed in it. We packed our bagpack and left our place at 6 a.m. and went to the bus, which was just in front of us. Our bus left Muzdalifa at 6.20 a.m. for Jamarat. On our journey towards Jamarat, Asif bhai led us to say talbiyah loudly. The atmosphere of the whole bus was laddem with reverence and submission, filled with the sound of talbiyah.
Labbaik Allahumma Labbaik
Labbaik La Sharika Laka Labbaik
Innal Hamda Wan Nemata Laka Wal Mulk
La Sharika Lak
(To be continued in Part 11).
References:
Al Quran. Interpretations of the meaning of THE NOBLE QURAN in the English language. Muhsin Khan. Darussalam Publications, 2011.
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