Madinah, Our Love

Walking into Masjid an-Nabawi was a feeling truly indescribable. The moment their feet crossed the threshold, something shifted — a wave of peace, quiet and immediate, moving through them all at once. The air felt different here. Lighter. Sacred. It carried a gentle hum of devotion, as though the prayers of centuries had settled permanently into the walls and floors and could not be shaken loose.

The temperature was perfect. A cool, gentle breeze moved through the space, brushing against their faces, making every step feel refreshed and unhurried. They looked around slowly, taking in the serene architecture, the soft murmur of prayers, and the calm of the people moving alongside them.

After settling in, they found a comfortable spot and performed their Maghrib and Isha prayers together. It felt so much more relaxed compared to the bustle of Makkah — quieter, more spacious, more tender in its atmosphere. Even though Saji was on her period and could not join fully in the salah, she was entirely present in spirit and heart, sitting quietly beside them, making her duas, continuing to be part of this holy journey in her own way.

Saji had been in touch with a local guide who had been helping them navigate their Madinah plans — a kind and reliable man named Hussain, whom they had come to call Kutty. She reached out to him again after prayers to finalise arrangements for dinner and their upcoming Rawdah visit. He had previously helped them secure an appointment at the Rawdah, scheduled for 12 p.m. For Shehnaz, this would be her first time — she had not had the chance on previous visits, and the anticipation had been quietly building all day.

With salah complete, they contacted Kutty. He directed them to the basement parking — Gate 329, down to Parking 8A — and arrived promptly, a gentle honk announcing his presence. They boarded, the excitement inside the car unmistakable.

From the outside, the restaurant looked inviting and clean. Inside, screens displayed the menu with vivid images of the dishes, and the air was thick with the warm perfume of spices. They were shown to a private cabin with curtained walls that separated them gently from the rest of the dining room, giving the meal a sense of intimacy and ease.

Their waiter, Shoukath Ali — friendly, glasses, and a quiet smile — greeted them and took their orders with practised calm. The food began to arrive in waves. Each dish was met with appreciation. The Malabar flavours, rich and spicy and deeply familiar, settled over them like a homecoming. For Shehnaz, the irrachi putt was the undisputed favourite of the evening — that earthy, unhurried dish that asks nothing of you except to slow down and receive it. The others gravitated toward the beef dishes, and Saji's children ate with the particular enthusiasm that only children in a good restaurant can muster, their delight adding another warmth to the table.

To close the meal, they shared chai and falooda — the sweetness of the falooda playing against the last lingering notes of spice, the chai settling everything into place. It was the kind of ending a meal earns only when everything before it has been right.

With their hunger sated and their hearts full, they made their way back to the hotel through the calm evening air of Madinah. The city held its particular quiet at this hour — cool and unhurried, carrying that quality of serenity that seemed to follow them everywhere within its bounds. They reflected on the day almost without words: the peace of Masjid an-Nabawi, the gentle breeze, the joy of prayers performed together, the comfort of a shared meal that tasted like home.

Back in their rooms, a soft contentment settled over everything. Saji's children wound down slowly, laughter and chatter giving way to quiet. The group exchanged a few small smiles — the kind that need no explanation — sharing an unspoken gratitude for how easy the day had been, how guided, how graciously arranged.

Tonight, the Rawdah still awaited them — that sacred appointment at midnight, the moment Shehnaz had been quietly anticipating for so long. But right now, this moment was entirely theirs to savour. The calm. The togetherness. The simple, profound peace that Madinah so generously offers to those who come to her with open hearts.