Blogs

I am sicker than a dog and feel lousy with an annoying head cold, all the way from Orlando to JFK, Dubai and eventually Najaf, almost 24-hours later. Sitting, on the Dubai to Najaf flight, in the adjacent aisle, is an elderly Bohri guy sporting a flowing white beard; his wife and daughter in law…

WhatsApp Blues So I am holed up in Dubai for a week, in between projects because of the violence in Iraq. Both Sohail and I are supposed to travel to Nasiriyah, Iraq, to commission the drilling of a deep water well that’ll provide potable water to about 20,000 desperate people currently consuming contaminated water but…

A Flight Into Bamiyan After spending rough four days traversing the interiors of rugged rural Daykundi Province in Afghanistan, checking up on and auditing CAI’s five medical clinics, we are ready to travel to Bamiyan. The day in Nilli begins benign enough, but chilly, 38F. This might not be the end of the world for…

Gehraa Thoughts There is this teenager at Masjid al Hayy, in Sanford, that recently arouses my curiosity in him. He is striking, with clear eyes and is very fair – definitely not a typical Khoja. He is tall, with a full head of hair that is marred by a ghastly hairdo. The kind that teenagers…

A Wanting Dream From The Past I am a dreamer, have always been one. It is the easiest way to turn off the evil and troubles in the current day dunya and return to the carefree, innocent life of yesteryears. Usually, these trances are a sure cure for my doldrums and I feel better afterward.…

Adventures In Senegal, Liberia, Sierra Leone The quest to offer quality education available to the children of poor communities worldwide provides CAI Trustees with wonderful opportunities for interesting and adventure-filled global travel. Last week, I am in West African with fellow Trustee Sohail and CAI African representative, Murtaza Bhimani. Consider my itinerary – Fly from…

Will my Imam (a) Be Pleased? I’ve just concluded a busy day commemorating Ashura. What with the a’amaals and emotional drain from reenacting the brutal slaying of my beloved Imam (a) and the violation of his family’s rights, I am exhausted. So I return home from Masjid al Hayy, a short distance away, and fall…

Mullah Mchungu Speaks His Mind  I am, in my relationship with Mullah Mchungu, at a crossroads of sorts. I humor him when he calls, and take the time to listen to him, grin and bear it when he calls me by unpleasant tags like ghadeero (ass) and mwenda wazeemu (crazy). I know he is very…

Vivid Imaginations – A Memoir: $55,000 has already been raised from the pre-sale booking of Vivid Imaginations – A Memoir. It is a recount of a memorable life of a Khoja Muslim with Gujarati genes, born and reared in E. Africa, migrating to the Middle East and then to the US. A frank and self-critical…

A Scolding I am frantically hoping, nay, praying that the Masjid al Hayy / HIC union will survive the initial, natural and expected turbulence of any new alliance and settle on an understanding to continue the marriage amicably. My prayers are that some respected and experienced elders will intervene, bring the two sides to a…

Holy Cow, Holy Ass, Holy Mess! I’ve blogged about India extensively. It’s a great country, my genes originate here, and it is my second home, since I visit her several times a year. India is also varied, complex and multicultural, she constantly elates and vexes me, and is a source of much pain, tragedy, and…

A Khoja Wedding In Montreal Montreal roads are best left to French Canadians; they are more suited to understand the mess that is navigating through this French-speaking city in otherwise more saner English speaking Canada; I only pray this statement does not create an uproar in the parliament in Ottawa. The roads from the airport…

Jiyo Pakistan, Zindabaad! You’d think Fatima and Nazir Merali’s home in Northwood, London is Janna, what with the variety of fruits on the table. We have Kesar mangoes from India, papaya from Brazil, plump cherries, apricots, plums, watermelon, oranges, and bananas! All exceedingly delicious. The one thing I have an issue with the UK is…

You may want to read part one here first? When I see these three girls, my heart does a somersault; Zainab, the middle one, has no shoes! She dons a pair of chaffed and dirty plastic chappals with thin socks hiding her feet. At my urging, Nabavi stops to chat with them, but Fatema, the…

I have never penned the story of how I landed up in and got involved with Afghanistan. The closest I can get to describing the feeling I have for this battered country is of a mother to her child. She bears incredible pain at childbirth, yet the love after the birth, even if the child…