Nearly half done ... Ramadan goes on ... as does life.

Life has a way of creating events that we generally do not foresee. I have often desired one thing, and planned for it, and been diverted into a completely different direction. Belief by the devout Muslim is that Allah is with you all the way, and when you appear to be thwarted, He is actually protecting you against harm that you did not foresee, or is diverting you to better action that you may get benefit from. I have come to believe this, although I cannot really claim to be a devout Muslim by any stretch of imagination. I just try to be a good human being.

In my conversations with Muslim friends both here and in India, I have been told that once one says that one is a good Muslim, the statement that one is a good human being is implied. I am not sure that this is the case. For example, if you read or see the news events of revolutions happening in the largely Muslim world of the Middle East, you will find that the actions of some very devout Muslims translates to deaths for other, also devout, Muslims. Would you then call being a good Muslim also an act of good humanity? Whether one is talking of Libya, Saudi Arabia, Syria, Egypt, Bahrain, the UAE or any other ME country, innumerable such examples can be provided where an act by a "good" Muslim has led to pain, misery, poverty, death and destruction. 

Those who claim that terrorists aren't really Muslims will probably rubbish my observation; the truth is, however, that these perpetrators ARE recognised as "Good" Muslims by their own supporters, who may number in their millions. Supporters of Mr. Mohammad Morsi, for example, belong to the "Muslim Brotherhood" or the "Ikhwanul Muslemeen". Mr. Morsi has been overthrown by his own countrymen, who, too, are Muslims. Both sides claim that they are in the right. Both sides comprise huge swathes of the Egyptian population. How can this be explained as an act of the benevolent religion that is called Islam?

I had planned to go for Umrah this week, but my plan was thwarted by an act of the Ministry of Health. Suddenly, they wanted a Pediatrician to go for substitutional duty in Al Khorma, a town that is about 170 km away from Al Muwayh. This time, it was my colleague Dr. Yasser's turn to go, and this effectively put paid to my plans and I am therefore right here in Al Muwayh, doing my duty as the lone pediatrician. It means that unless I wrangle a day from Dr. Yasser when he comes back on Thursday, I won't be able to perform the Umrah during Ramadan at all, as he proceeds on his annual vacation on Friday night. This also means that for nearly two months from then on, I won't be able to leave Al Muwayh until the fourth week of September, when he is due to return.

This is the chain of events that led to the substance of this post. Do let me know your experiences when you wanted to do something, and something unexpected came up and "spoiled" the fun for you. Thank you.

Some rumination

In my humble opinion, Nature watching and appreciating can be likened to worshipping God, as God created Nature. I used to think of this as a cliche, but, over the last several months, I have come to sincerely believe that God created us, intellectual beings, so that we could admire His handiwork and praise Him for his craft. 

Although I haven't travelled far and wide to seek Him through Nature watching, whatever experiences I have had have reinforced this truth in my heart. In these past months, I have seen, and most times, captured on camera, nearly 300 to 400 of His creations; I am just giving a rough idea of the variety that exists in Nature that is discernible even to a lowly traveller like me. Off-hand, I would say that this sample may not account for even 0.01% of His bounty. However, to see the myriad species of trees, flowers, non-flowering plants, insects, birds, mammals, and what not - the mind boggles at the thought that after 8-9 months of serious Nature watching, I am almost near where I started. Maybe I might have shifted just a little, but I have a lot more to see in this big, wide world of ours, and what I have achieved so far is so little, and yet, so significant!

My pediatric practice continues as before, but come the weekend, and my heart urges me to leave the work place and go somewhere, anywhere where there is a chance to see Mother Nature in all its glory. I often reach home in the afternoon and, without lunch, I pick up my camera and rush to go either to the local zoo, which is less than 2 km away from where I stay, or somewhere within 5-6 km radius where I am likely to see some greenery/life.

My portfolio of photographs has grown, and how! I have more than 500 photos now, and they are on my computer's hard disk, some located within folders describing one particular trip, and some within folders for one particular type of living thing - e.g. a folder on insects. I have begun to display these photos on Facebook, on this blog, and also published some on external sites on invitation (check out my article on Ovalekar Wadi Butterfly Park, Thane, on this site).

The surprise is that although my younger daughter does accompany me on many of these outings that I go to, she hasn't, as yet, developed any keen interest in Nature watching. It is obvious from my wording that neither my wife nor my elder daughter are in the least interested in this hobby or passion that I have nurtured.


Diwali was today, and I was standing outside my bedroom and watching the terraced garden that graces the view when I heard the typical call of the white-throated fantail - a bird that has a fan-like tail, and a song that is beautiful to hear and so soothing! I looked in the vegetation, and sure enough, there was the bird, flitting from one shrub to another, pausing only a while to sing that melodious nine-toned song once again.


And then, the unthinkable happened. Someone lighted a chain-fire cracker just below my house, and with the staccato sound of the cracker, the bird flew away, never to again return to the same shrubs for the rest of the morning. 


This is what really pains me: humans never think of the collateral damage they produce when they pursue something so inane as bursting crackers on this occasion. Think of the damage caused to birds on the kite-flying day, on Holi, and on the several such festival days throughout the year.