Share your thoughts with our readers: Email your contribution, no less than 300 words, to [email protected] My first visit there made me livid. Couldn't help thinking, “Is nothing sacred?” No, this couldn't be Makkah. This couldn't be the holiest city: The ramshackle shops and tower blocks Thrown up willy-nilly and ad-hoc. No, this couldn't be Makkah. This couldn't be the holiest sanctuary: The elbows and shoving during Tawaf*, Women clinging on to their other halves. No, this couldn't be Makkah. This couldn't be the sacred Kaaba: Buffeted around the Kiswah's blackness, No chance to give the Black Stone a kiss. No, this couldn't be Makkah. This couldn't be the Place of Ibrahim: Kicked in the head during rakatain**, Tawafers brushing past with disdain. No, this couldn't be Makkah. This couldn't be the holiest of holies: Pilgrims using musical ring tones, Taking souvenir selfies on their phones. The rites are simple, but how do you impart A sense of sacredness in the heart? * Circumambulation of the Kaaba ** Two units of prayer Yousuf Hindess Riyadh
