The advent of Moharram makes me nostalgic about my surreal experience last year during chehlum....
travelogue
The advent of Moharram makes me nostalgic about my surreal experience last year during chehlum (or arbaeen), at the annual pilgrimage from Najaf to Karbala, culminating at Imam Husain’s roza that I undertook for the first time. Now, of course thanks to COVID-19 the world has changed - and who knows if Iraq will still welcome pilgrims to congregate in the phenomenal numbers it used to. All I can say is I am grateful for having had the opportunity, even if it was an experience that was as excruciating as it was exhilarating.
The trek is mostly undertaken by pilgrims all the way on foot, some even barefoot, although a few do opt to walk as much as they can and then take a public transport to cover the remaining portion. Depending on their energy, speed and health, it takes anywhere from three to six days for pilgrims to complete the entire walk, and no words can do justice to that experience. It is not a matter of faith, for one finds people of all religions partaking in this amazing exercise - that at once unites, bonds, levels, impoverishes and enriches all - no matter where they hail from and what their belief.
Our team of six, comprising five ladies and one gentleman, had arrived at Najaf at night and checked in into a hotel, where we grabbed a few winks before getting up at 3 am to leave for Hazrat Ali’s roza, the start of our journey. We left our suitcases behind to be picked up by Baron Hotel, Karbala, so that we had nothing but our knapsacks to carry while doing the trek on foot - which too began to weigh like a ton of bricks by the time we were done.
After offering our fajr prayers, we set off. From the roza to zero point, where the walk officially begins, is a distance of 9.1 km - marked by 182 poles, as every km has 20 poles. Little did we know then that these non-descript electric poles bearing these numbers were going to become our lifeline over the coming days, for every pole we would pass would give us hope of a destination coming closer, and encourage us to trudge on further, till we ultimately reached the final pole - 1452.
While traversing the distance before reaching zero point, we kept noticing the number of people joining the procession from all sides, every step of the way, till finally from zero point onwards everyone was just walking in one direction. However, I was a little surprised that there didn’t seem to be as many people at the walk as I was expecting - and when we later stopped for lunch, discovered why.
But, crowds aside, the walk is a sight to behold. After every few feet you find someone - it may be a child standing barefoot in the scorching heat, in the middle of the road from where the procession passes, offering ice-cold water on thaals that are bigger than them, or holding out tissues, or just spraying you with sprinklers to beat the heat; or an elderly female, offering hot goodies of every variety, or juices; or a young gentleman swiftly cutting large wedges of chilled watermelon and offering it to everyone. Huge dustbins are placed everywhere, so that no one has an excuse to litter the path, and volunteers are continuously and speedily emptying the bins. And all this with a smile on their faces! There are even volunteers who set up temporary kiosks to fix broken shoes, and some who offer their services for mending tires of broken wheel-chairs, strollers or luggage trolleys. Nothing less than angels in human guise they invariably appeared before you with the very thing you might have thought you needed, the moment you thought of it - be it cold water or tissue, etc.
What’s more, after every few feet there is a mokab where pilgrims can rest their tired feet, partake of meals, use washrooms, take a nap, wash clothes, and even get a massage done - all for free by volunteers who come from different parts of the world to offer this service every year. Some of them are temporary shelters set up just for these days; others are actual homes of Iraqis - their drawing rooms, lounges, gardens, and even garages - that the residents transform into rest houses for the pilgrims to use.
Walking almost non-stop, we reached the Pakistani mokab 72, where we stopped for lunch and rest. It was here that we discovered why the throngs of people at the walk were relatively less than what I had expected - most people had already reached Karbala, and we were told that we had in fact, started our walk too late, so much so that even the volunteers who had been serving us lunch and cleaning the toilets, etc, at the mokab were packing up, so that they could take public transport while it was still available, to convey them to Karbala. Apparently, the target should be to reach Karbala latest the day before chehlum, ideally before asr, and not on chehlum day as we had planned, as roads get blocked and it takes very long to reach the roza and also since all volunteers want to be in Karbala for chehlum as well, there is little or no facilitation on the way two days prior - which was when we had started our walk! We had planned on averaging 25 km a day over three days and now realised that would not be possible as we just had the next day to complete our walk.
After much debate and discussion, we decided that since there was no way we would make it in time for chehlum if we just continued with our original plan of walking all the way, we should traverse some distance the next day by cab, and then complete the remaining span on foot. More determined than ever to meet what we had set as our day’s target, we resumed our walk, stopping only for maghrib prayers at a mokab where the volunteers immediately tended to our needs.
After prayers we set off again. So charged were we that we hadn’t stopped to eat dinner at any of the mokabs earlier, thinking that all the goodies constantly offered on the way would suffice, but as soon as it had become dark, the volunteers, even those offering water, had begun to become few and far between, and we realised that most people had already packed up and started to make their way to Karbala themselves.
Famished, and stopping every now and then at a mokab to check if there was any food available, we had almost given up, when we found a huge kiosk with volunteers making fresh falafel sandwiches on a conveyor belt, rapidly churning out the most deliciously prepared falafels ever eaten! Rejuvenated, we walked on, looking for a mokab where we could crash for the night, but again, we discovered to our chagrin, that most had shut down! But miracles were not in short supply. When we reached pole 327 where mokab Karavan e hind was - which had also shut down - the caretaker took one look at us and said that though all the volunteers had left and his place was closed, there was one air-conditioned room which had just been vacated by his family so we could all sleep there, undisturbed by anyone! What’s more, the volunteers had cleaned all the bathrooms before going, and there were WCs to boot! Had we reached this mokab even a night earlier, there would have been no way that we would have found space even in their common area meant for all pilgrims, let alone this special room! So, as they say whatever happens, happens for the best! Having altogether walked 25.45 km that day, we all slept soundly till fajr.
Right after fajr, we resumed our walk again, getting delicious anda roti for breakfast from the few volunteers that were still around. We walked another 8.75 km till pole 502, and then took a taxi in which we crammed ourselves for a two-hour drive till pole 1087. We ate and rested at the mokab there, to avoid walking in the scorching sun, and then resumed our walk when it became a little cooler. Stopping just to offer our magrib prayers we trudged on till pole 1412 which was the last pole before Karbala border. From here, the atmosphere became electric with a sea of energised people moving towards Imam Hussain’s roza, another 6 km away. By the time we eventually made it to our hotel we had walked 32.5 km altogether just that day - 60.2 km in two days! Every bone in my body was screaming in pain, but it was an experience I would not have missed for the world.
Photo Courtesy: Karbala Urdu
