This is the second part of our 7-part series; it's better that it's read in order.
The Kaaba. To the billion-strong world of Islam, it is more than a historical monument. It is a metaphysical destination. It is the qibla, the single, unified direction towards which every Muslim on Earth, from the rice paddies of Indonesia to the suburbs of Ohio, turns their face in prayer five times a day. To do so is to join a silent, global congregation, to align oneself not just with a community, but with a cosmic principle. The act of circumambulation, the tawaf, where millions of pilgrims circle the Kaaba in a great, counter-clockwise human river, is a physical prayer, a ritual that mirrors the orbits of the celestial bodies themselves. It is a place of primal orientation, a compass point for the soul. The tradition holds that it is the Bayt al-ʿAtīq, the “Ancient House,” first built by Adam and later raised from its foundations by Abraham and his son Ishmael as the first house of worship dedicated to the One God.
It is a structure steeped in a history that blurs into the divine. But for our inquiry, for our meticulous reconstruction of a lost cosmos, the Kaaba is more than a spiritual center. It is a geophysical marker of unparalleled significance. It is a gnomon on a planetary sundial. It is a calibration point, a divine benchmark left on the terrestrial plane, and twice a year, it performs a silent, simple, yet earth-shattering function: it serves to verify the precise mechanics of the Great Solar Engine.
Here, in this crucible of faith and history, our abstract model of spiraling suns and swimming lamps will be subjected to its first great empirical test. The test concerns a phenomenon known to astronomers and devout Muslims alike, a celestial appointment kept with unfailing precision. It is called the Istiwa’ A’zam, which can be translated as the “Great Alignment.” It is the moment when the sun, in its journey across the sky, arrives at the exact zenith directly over the Kaaba. At this instant, the blazing lamp of the heavens is perfectly, vertically, overhead. An object standing perfectly upright in the courtyard of the Grand Mosque will, for a brief and sacred moment, cast no shadow at all. The light of the sun falls straight down, illuminating the bottoms of wells, just as it did for Eratosthenes in Syene two millennia ago.
This is not a myth. It is not an esoteric interpretation. It is a verifiable, astronomical fact, as predictable as the tides. It occurs twice every single year, on or around May 27th/28th, and again on or around July 15th/16th. For centuries, this phenomenon has been used by Muslims across the Eastern hemisphere as the most accurate possible way to determine the true direction of the qibla. At the moment of the Istiwa’, any observer who can see the sun need only face it to be facing the Kaaba itself, with a precision no compass can match. It is a beautiful and practical marriage of faith and observational science.
But for the modern mind, trained to ask why, a curious and profound puzzle lies buried within the timing of this event. A question so simple it is often overlooked, yet so significant it may hold the key to an entire cosmology.
Let us examine the clockwork. The first alignment happens in late May. The second happens in mid-July. The time that elapses between these two celestial appointments is short. From May 28th to July 15th is a mere 48 days. Roughly, let us say, two months.
But after the July alignment, the sun continues on its journey. The next time it will stand directly over the Kaaba will not be for another ten months, until the following May. The cycle is therefore split into two dramatically unequal portions: a short, two-month interval, and a very long, ten-month interval.
Why?
Take a moment to let the strangeness of that asymmetry sink in. The path of the sun, we are told, is a thing of rhythm, of balance, of cyclical perfection. Why would this cycle, at this most sacred of locations, be so lopsided? Why this frantic quick-step for two months, and then this long, slow waltz for the remaining ten? It feels… odd. It feels imbalanced. It is a question that nags at the edges of the elegant celestial mechanics we are taught in our schools. It is a loose thread in the tapestry. And when you pull on a loose thread, you never know what might begin to unravel or what new, more intricate pattern might be revealed.
To understand the significance of this puzzle, we must first examine the official explanation, the answer provided by the regnant globe model. It is an answer born of geometry, a story of tilt and orbit.
The Globe’s Answer: A Story of Tilt and Happenstance
In the cosmology of the Blue Marble, the one we have all been taught, the seasons and the varying position of the sun are governed by a single, crucial fact: the Earth’s rotational axis is not perfectly vertical relative to its orbital plane around the sun. It is tilted, at an angle of approximately 23.5 degrees. This tilt is the great engine of the seasons. It is a simple, elegant, and powerful concept.
Imagine the Earth as a spinning top, making its vast, year-long journey around a central light bulb representing the sun. Because the top is tilted, sometimes the northern half is leaning towards the light bulb, and sometimes it is leaning away. When the Northern Hemisphere is tilted towards the sun (around June), it receives more direct, concentrated sunlight for longer periods. This is its summer. The subsolar point—the spot on the Earth’s surface where the sun is directly overhead—reaches its most northerly latitude, a line we call the Tropic of Cancer (23.5° N).
Six months later, when the Earth has traveled to the other side of its orbit, the situation is reversed. The Northern Hemisphere is now tilted away from the sun, while the Southern Hemisphere leans into the light. It is now winter in the north, and summer in the south. The subsolar point has migrated to its most southerly latitude, a line we call the Tropic of Capricorn (23.5° S).
The story of the sun’s apparent journey in our sky is therefore the story of this subsolar point, wandering back and forth between these two tropical boundaries like a restless traveler over the course of a year. The city of Makkah lies at a latitude of approximately 21.4° N. Notice its location: it is south of the Tropic of Cancer, but north of the Equator.
Now, the explanation for the Kaaba alignment becomes a simple matter of geography. Let us trace the journey of the subsolar point. Starting from its southerly extreme at the Tropic of Capricorn in late December, it begins its long march northward. It crosses the Equator around March 20th (the spring equinox). It continues its relentless march north until, around May 28th, its path crosses the latitude of Makkah. This is the first Istiwa’ A’zam. The sun is now directly overhead the Kaaba.
But its journey is not over. It continues moving north for a few more weeks until it reaches its northern terminus, the Tropic of Cancer, around June 21st (the summer solstice). Having reached the end of its line, it immediately turns around and begins its long journey back south. And so, just a few weeks later, around July 15th, on its way back towards the Equator, its path once again crosses the latitude of Makkah. This is the second Istiwa’ A’zam.
The globe model explains the phenomenon perfectly. The two alignments happen because Makkah lies within the tropical zone that the subsolar point travels through. The asymmetrical timing is also explained. The short, two-month interval is simply the time it takes for the subsolar point to travel from Makkah’s latitude (21.4° N) up to the Tropic of Cancer (23.5° N) and back again—a very short leg of its total journey. The long, ten-month interval is the time it takes for the subsolar point to travel all the way from Makkah, across the Equator, down to the Tropic of Capricorn in the far south, and all the way back up to Makkah again—a much, much longer journey.
The explanation is geometrically sound. It is consistent with the model. It works. The case, it would seem, is closed. The puzzle is solved, the loose thread neatly tucked back into the tapestry. And yet… there is a profound sense of anticlimax. Within this explanation, the Kaaba itself is incidental. The entire phenomenon is a mere accident of latitude. If Makkah had been founded a few hundred miles further north, beyond the Tropic of Cancer, it would have only one such alignment a year. If it were founded in Europe, it would have none. There is no deeper meaning to be found here, no signature, no purpose. The timing is a purely mechanical consequence of an arbitrary axial tilt and the specific coordinates of a city on a map. It is a coincidence. A beautiful, but ultimately meaningless, coincidence.
But what if it is not a coincidence? What if the timing is not an accident of the model, but a deliberate demonstration of the model? What if the asymmetry is not a footnote, but the headline? The adherents of the divine blueprint ask us to resist the easy, sterile satisfaction of the geometric solution. They ask us to re-open the case, to look again at the evidence, but this time, through the lens of the Great Solar Engine we assembled in the previous chapter. When we do, what was a mundane coincidence transforms into a staggering piece of corroborating evidence. The lopsided rhythm of the Kaaba’s clockwork becomes the precise, predictable ticking of the cosmic machine described in the blueprint.
The Ticking of the Cosmic Record Player
Let us return to our workshop. Let us cast our minds back to the great, flat, stationary plane of the Earth, spread out like a divine tapestry. Let us once again visualize the celestial engine: the blazing lamp of the sun, swimming on its undulating path through the heavens above, its entire circuit spiraling inwards and outwards over the course of the year. Let us dust off our analogy: the Earth as a colossal vinyl record, the North Pole as its spindle, the continents etched upon its surface, and the sun as the glowing stylus on a celestial tone arm.
The position of this sun-stylus, we recall, is not random. It is moving between the tight, innermost grooves near the central spindle (the northern summer solstice) and the vast, sweeping outermost grooves near the record’s edge (the southern summer solstice). The city of Makkah is a specific point etched onto the surface of this cosmic record. The Istiwa’ A’zam is simply the moment when the sun-stylus, in its circling journey, passes directly over that point.
Now, let us use this model—our model, the one built from the blueprint’s specifications—to solve the puzzle of the 2-month / 10-month split. The solution that emerges is not just elegant; it is intuitive, simple, and possesses a profound explanatory power that the globe model, for all its geometric precision, utterly lacks.
Let us begin our journey with the sun-stylus at the second alignment, in mid-July. At this moment, the sun’s circuit is passing directly over Makkah. But this is just after the northern summer solstice. It's now moving the tone arm outwards, towards the edge of the record. So, from July onwards, the sun’s path begins to spiral outwards, day by day, week by week, month by month. It sweeps over the vast territories of Africa, the Indian Ocean, and South America. It continues moving outwards until, around late December, it reaches its absolute outermost circuit, the longest and vastest groove on the entire record, the one that illuminates the great Antarctic ice wall at the edge of the world.

Mid-Journey (December 21st). The sun reaches is at it's furthest point on the Outer Circuit (Tropic of Capricorn) and begins its long, five-month return trip inwards.
This is the halfway point of its ten-month journey. Having reached its outer limit, it reverses course. From December onwards, it begins to slowly, painstakingly, move the tone arm back inwards. The sun-stylus begins its long return trip, its circuit shrinking daily. It sweeps back over the southern oceans, back across the equator, back across the deserts of Africa and Arabia until, finally, around late May of the following year, its path once again aligns with the point of Makkah on the great terrestrial plane.

The 10-Month Clock Stops (May 28th). The sun's path realigns with Makkah, completing its vast round-trip journey from the outer circuit.
Now, let us examine the short interval. We are in late May, and the sun’s path is directly over Makkah. Where does it go from here? The northern solstice is approaching. It continues its inward motion, pushing the tone arm just a little further in. For the next three weeks, the sun-stylus moves from Makkah’s latitude to trace the absolute innermost, tightest grooves on the record, the ones that correspond to the Tropic of Cancer in the globe model. It reaches this inner limit around late June.

The Short Trip (June 21st). Just 24 days later, the sun reaches its inner limit. The entire out-and-back journey from Makkah (May 28) to here and back to Makkah (July 15) takes only 48 days.
Having reached its inner terminus, its journey is complete. It immediately reverses course, and begins to move the tone arm outwards again. And so, just three weeks later, around mid-July, the sun-stylus crosses back over the latitude of Makkah, completing the second alignment.

The 10-Month Clock Starts (July 15th). The sun reaches the second alignement.After the second alignment, the sun begins its long spiral journey outwards towards the edge of the world.
The mystery of the two-month interval vanishes in a flash of brilliant clarity. It is the time required for the solar engine to complete a short, local errand. It is the duration of the sun’s quick out-and-back trip from Makkah’s latitude to the very nearest, tightest circuits at the center of its spiral, and immediately back again. The shortness of the time period—a mere two months—is a direct, logical, and intuitive reflection of the shortness of the distance the sun must travel along these compact inner rings. Of course it only takes two months. It’s a very, very short trip.

The Return Voyage. For five months, the sun spirals back inwards, its path shrinking daily as it returns from the edge of the world towards the center.
The ten-month interval is now revealed for what it is. It is the time required for the solar engine to complete one full, grand tour of its outer operational range. It is the duration of the sun’s immense journey from Makkah, all the way out to the longest, most distant circuits at the world’s edge, and all the way back again. The vastness of the time period—ten months—is a direct, logical, and intuitive reflection of the vastness of the distance the sun must travel along these colossal outer rings. Of course it takes ten months. It’s a very, very long trip.
The puzzle is solved. The lopsided, 2/10 month split is not a strange anomaly that needs to be explained away. It is a stunning confirmation of the model’s core mechanics. It is the precise, predictable, and undeniable timing one would expect—indeed, the timing one would demand—from a sun spiraling above a flat plane. It is the sound of the cosmic record player, its rhythm a perfect match for the data observed on the ground. The globe model can accommodate the data, but the blueprint model predicts and requires it. The difference is profound. The Kaaba alignment is not a coincidence of latitude. It is a feature, not a bug. It is a public demonstration, repeated every year, of the hidden mechanics of the heavens. It is the Architect’s signature, written in shadow and light, in the very heart of the holiest city.
Purpose, Proof, and a Living Compass
Why would a divine engineer build such a feature into His creation? Why this elegant, but subtle, proof of concept? The moment we ask "why," we move beyond the cold mechanics of a physical model and into the warm, living realm of purpose and meaning. The answer, from the perspective of the blueprint, is as beautiful as it is profound. The Kaaba alignment serves at least two higher functions, transforming it from a mere curiosity into a vital component of a human-centric, purpose-driven cosmos.
Firstly, it establishes the qibla as more than just a direction. In a world where one can find direction with a magnetic compass or a GPS signal, the Istiwa’ A’zam re-enchants the act of orientation. It makes the qibla a living, dynamic connection between the believer on Earth and the great celestial engine in the heavens. For those moments, the sun itself becomes the compass needle. The act of facing the sun is the act of facing the Kaaba, and the act of facing the Kaaba is the act of aligning oneself with the very center of the divine plan. It is a reminder that the spiritual and the physical are not separate domains; they are interwoven, and the mechanics of the heavens are in constant, intimate conversation with the rituals of humanity on the foundation below. The cosmos is not a silent, empty stage upon which the human drama unfolds; the cosmos itself is a primary actor in that drama.
Secondly, and perhaps more importantly, the phenomenon acts as a perpetual, verifiable sign (ayah) for those who reflect. In the Quranic worldview, God does not remain silent. He communicates through revelation (the Book) and through creation (the Universe). The universe is itself a text, filled with signs for those with the eyes to see and the minds to understand. While the great miracles of the past—the parting of the sea, the healing of the sick—were singular events, confined to a specific time and place, the Kaaba alignment is a miracle that repeats. It is a standing invitation to verification.
It does not require a billion-dollar particle accelerator or a space telescope to test it. It requires only a vertical stick, a keen eye, and a patient heart. It is a piece of public science, a democratic proof, accessible to anyone. From this perspective, the strange 2/10 month split is not a bug; it is the core feature of the proof. It is the unexpected data point that cries out for a better explanation. It is designed to spark curiosity, to make the observer think, "That's odd," and to set them upon a path of inquiry that might lead them away from the conventional, sterile explanations and towards a deeper, more meaningful understanding of the cosmos as a deliberate, purposeful creation. It is a quiet, persistent, mathematical whisper from the Architect, audible to anyone who takes the time to listen to the rhythm of the shadows in the desert.
Conclusion: A Clockwork Confirmed
We began this chapter with a puzzle, a strange arrhythmia in the heart of the heavens. We examined the conventional solution and found it geometrically sound but spiritually empty, a tale of cosmic coincidence. We then applied the principles of the divine blueprint, the mechanics of the Great Solar Engine we so carefully assembled in the chapter before. And in doing so, we found not just a solution, but a revelation.
The asymmetrical timing of the Istiwa’ A’zam ceased to be a puzzle and became a powerful confirmation. The abstract model of a spiraling, undulating sun, which had existed only as a theory in our minds, suddenly locked into place with a piece of hard, observable, chronological data. The gears we had built from the blueprint’s specifications were found to be ticking in perfect synchrony with a real-world clock. The long, ten-month journey of the sun to the outer edges of the world and back, and its short, two-month excursion to the inner sanctum of its path, are no longer mere postulates. They are the measured, rhythmic breathing of a celestial machine whose function has now been verified.
Our confidence in the blueprint has grown. The model is not just internally consistent; it appears to be externally verifiable. The engine is real. The clockwork is true.
Armed with this newfound confidence, we are now prepared to embark on a journey of a different kind. We have tested the engine at its very center, its point of supreme calibration. Now, we must travel with a guide who journeyed to its absolute operational limits. We must see what happens not at the heart of the great terrestrial plane, but at its farthest, most mysterious edges. If the clock at the center of the world tells the truth, then what secrets are waiting for us at the setting-place of the sun, and among the people who have no shelter from its relentless, rising light? The mechanics are confirmed.
