My son S, and I were on our way to Houston from Charlottesville. We were traveling in a hired truck which contained my furniture, and household items. This was the second day of our journey. We had started at nine in the morning from the hotel where we had stayed the night. It was the last Friday in the month of Ramadan known as Jumatul Wida. S is very particular about Salat (prayers), and it was time for the Zuhr Prayers.
He exited the highway to enter a city road. Finding a place to park he found out a nearby mosque on the map. It was a new place for us, and it took some time to find one in the area. He found an end road to park our truck. It took some manoeuvering on his part to park it.
We got down. Many cars were already parked near a single story building. I thought it was the mosque. It turned out I was wrong. It was a long hike uphill. The sun blazed overhead. You can imagine how the temperature sizzles in June. We went up and up. I was perspiring badly. I was tired with the traveling we had done, and my legs ached. The road climb was steep. I hauled myself with determination to the top.
At the top, the women’s entrance to the mosque was at the other end. I got there, and looked here and there for a restroom before getting ready to say my salat. My fate that day wasn’t in working order. I had to go all the way back to get to a restroom.
By the time I managed again to enter the prayer hall from the women’s entrance the salat with the congregation was over. S rang me to come out, but I couldn’t answer as I was saying my prayers. As soon as I finished, a woman tapped me on the shoulder saying my name, telling me S was waiting outside. I was surprised, how did she know who I was?
S had got worried while waiting for me, and had given my name, and description. After coming downhill, we got into the truck. We weren’t fasting because we were traveling, so we looked for a place to get a midday meal. Finished with eating we got on the highway to resume our journey.
Sep 19, 2016
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