Bismillah, alhamdulillah

I liked the following sentences written by someone:

Money can buy a bed, but not sleep.
It can buy a clock, but not time.
It can buy you a book, but not knowledge.
It can buy you a position, but not respect.
It can buy you medicine, but not health.
It can buy you blood, but not life.

يسم الله
الحمد لله

I have always wondered what this tree is called. I have seen it Hyderabad, AP, Karanataka and on the highway to Mumbai.

At last a name:

Ficus benghalensis
Indian banyan tree

بسم الله الحمد لله

A lot of the muslim world is currently getting ready to crescent watch and work out the beginning of Eid-ul-Fitr. Here are some tips to sky gazing.

First get our terms right
Waxing moon : increasing, the new hilaal is therefore waxing.
Waning moon: diminishing in size.

Using your hands
The angle of the tilt varies depending on which country your in.

You can use your hands to work out what is happening. You can make a crescent shape using your forefinger and thumb. If the crescent you see fits the crescent you make with your right hand then this is a waxing crescent. If the crescent fits your left hand’s crescent then it is a waning crescent. This rule works in the NORTHERN hemisphere and is reversed in the SOUTHERN hemisphere.

For mnemonic enthusiasts the shape of the letters in the capitalised word DOC can be used to remember this. The letter D without its vertical line is a waxing crescent and the letter C is a waning crescent. This rule is reversed in the Southern hemisphere.

Some pictures

View from the SOUTHERN hemisphere is below

View from the NORTHERN HEMISPHERE

Acknowledgements:
Woodlands Junior School

Bismillah, alhamdulillah.

As the years have rolled on, I have noticed on asking may of my acquaintances and friends to do something which requires them to go out of their way a common response: ‘I don’t have time!’. When I was younger I would struggle to understand what people did with their time, but as the years have piled on, I now understand what people said. The vacuous nature of life acts like a black hole. It attracts the most time drenching activities from television, surfing the net, latest gadgets, having a good time visiting restaurants, going to shopping centres further and further away to buy what I could have bought at the click of a button.

While the world offered to save our time, instead we became busier. Computers were meant to save paper, instead I now see paper being sold at a tremendous rate and rapidly coming out oflaser printers. Now we have so many programs to teach us Islam and an internet full of knowledge I find people less educated about Islam. It is indeed a world of contradictory principles.

Alhamdulillah Allah has provided the slowest month in the year, Ramadan. A month when we are given the opportunity when fasting to watch the passage of time slow down for a few hours, to contemplate where we have arrived after so many Ramadans on this planet. What goals have we achieved, what goals do we have let to aspire for. What have we prepared for tomorrow when we shall stand in front of Allah, all alone, perhaps blind perhaps sighted. Perhaps we will have a good answer for what we did with our spare time. May Allah make us from those who spend their time wisely.

One goal that many of us have an aspiration to achieve is to read and understand the Quran. I would like to invite you all to have a look at this project which offers a ‘new’ approach to learning the Quran. It offers electronic (web or Excel) or paper based worksheets to learn the Quran. It takes a simple commentary of the Quran written in Arabic and encourages the reader to learn new words and understand the Quran at the same time. Please make time and have a look at the following two links:

List of Quran Worksheets This link has all the worsksheets done so far. For a quick start, begin here.
Introduction to TMArabic : This introduces the concept.
Power point presentation : This gives a power point presentation of the idea behind the concept.

This is an ongoing project and if you have any feedback, spotted any errors please give your feedback.

May Allah give us the time to appreciate His final message to us.

Bismillah, alhamdulillah.

Taken from www.islam2u.com the following is a simple commentary on the Quran. Check out the original website for an interesting breakdown of the Arabic text. It offers a word-by-word translation using floating boxes. Just place your mouse over the word and see what it means. Original link is here. Other formats are available.

LINKS: Excel worksheet | PDF worksheet | About TMArabic | Vocab Tool | Surah Index

Commentary Text for Surah Al-Fatiha Verse 1

*[I begin] in the name of Allah, the Beneficent, the Merciful (1.1)
‘In the name of Allah’ other than who there is no true god (who) is described with every perfect (attribute) free from any defect He is the Merciful who pours His great blessings in general and specific on His creation He is described by the attribute of continuous mercy
*[Every] praise belongs to Allah the Lord (of) the worlds. (1.2)
Every beautiful praise of every type and in every condition belongs to Allah alone and we praise Him profusely for He originated creation and is (continuously) looking after it
*The Beneficent, the Merciful. (1.3)
And He is one who is constantly merciful and the source of every mercy He blesses His creation with every blessing, whether large or small
*The Owner of the Day of Judgement. (1.4)
(Owner) He alone is the owner of the day of reward and accountability and that is the Last Day, (when) He will act as He wishes and no one will share (the ability) to act as they wish.
*You (alone) we worship and You (alone) we seek help from. (1.5)
and we only worship You O our Lord! We do not seek help and goodness (from anyone) except You
*Guide us to the straight path! (1.6)
(The Path) We ask You to grant us success (in attaining) the path of truth, goodness and happiness. And it is the straight path that takes us to You.
*The path of those whom You blessed and not the path of those who earned Your anger or went astray. (1.7)
(The Path) It is the way of Your slaves whom You granted success (to achieve) belief in You and (those to whom) You granted guidance and Your pleasure and not the path of those who deserve Your anger and strayed from the path of truth and felicity because they shunned believing in You and submitting to Your guidance.

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Bismillah, alhamdulillah.

As we trundle down University Road heading south towards the centre of Karachi I look to my left and spot some very basic tent like housing. Three and half such tent houses sit together about a hundred feet above University road. The elevation they sit on continues a further 100 feet above them and lies in an area  known as Block 1, Gulistan Jauhar.  On the top of this hill sit large water tanks funded by the World Aid Fund that supply water to the surrounding areas.

My attention shifts to the back of the car as I am given a quick precis of the basic life of a maasi or servant lady. These ladies come from the interior of Sindh province and work as domestic maids washing clothes, dish washing, sweeping the house, cleaning bathroom and toilets and in some cases cooking. Each one of these tasks is charged at 500 RS per month, so if you ask the maasi to perform more than one task you pay another 500 and so on. Their average monthly income is around 7-8000 RS as they work for around 3-6 households.

The detailed run down about a maasi’s life had been prompted by my question about who the tents on the side of the hill belonged to. The answer was maasis. These ladies come from interior Sindh and camp out in such make shift accommodation. In places such as the side of the hill their rental costs are virtually zero, sometimes they set up camp on plots of land where landowners charge them 500 RS per month or even let them stay just asking them to move on once any construction starts on the land. There is no running water or sewerage system that reaches these temporary tent houses but some luxuries of life such as electricity manage to make their way in. This happens courtesy of a 500 RS (the going rate) bribe of the local area electricity inspector, who attaches an illegal wire to the main electricity cables running overhead, they manage to get enough electricity to power a fan, a fridge and perhaps a television.

Life is very tough and the average maasi is a very thinly built but sturdy lady dressed in the traditional Pakistani ladies shalwaar khamees with her dupatta carefully balanced on her head passing behind her ears in that typical Pakistani style. The lady in the back continues describing the life of her maasi. She works with her daughter in their house doing the ironing plus washing, dish washing, a daily brush of the premises and a clean of the toilets and bathrooms. She pays her 2000 RS per month. Her daughter is currently helping her out.

The maasis children whether girls or boys are seldom educated. Boys if lucky may find themselves being educated up to the beginning of secondary level if they accompany their parents to Karachi or are placed with a family who take simple work from the boy or girl and in return agree to fund their education and given them time off for education.

Back in their rural areas they face the blight of a poor education system. It seems that the waderas (landlords) are not interested in promoting education and actively conspire to make sure that there is little to offer in terms of free education in these areas. It is difficult to judge whether this is really the case or not but it is an accusation that I have seen levelled at the powerful landlords in the rural areas time and again by a wide variety of Pakistanis across many years.

Even in cosmopolitan Karachi maasi children face discrimination. One maasi in the local area had brought her son and tried to enrol him into a madrassah, but was refused on the grounds her son was not Punjabi. Occasionally  boys are enrolled into government schools but even in this situation they are usually not educated beyond 14 by which time they are married off and have to start a family life of their own.

Maasi’s usually come with their husbands to Karachi, the husbands work as gatekeepers for other families and the aim in life is to try and build a permanent house back in their villages. When December time comes children in alternation with their parents return back to their villages to help with the annual harvest. Some maasis may be lucky and get a break and are able to go abroad where they will earn around 16000 RS as a basic salary and usually manage to get a total of 40,000 RS, at least if they make it to Saudi Arabia. One such returnee who had spent time in Saudi Arabia had come back with a different attitude, I was told.

She would sweep the floor and then tell the madam of the house that if the children dropped any rubbish where she had already swept the floor she would not sweep it again. She was also very particular about ironing clothes and insisted she would not iron clothes that were not turned the right way round and she would not do any extra duties that were not in her initial agreement. The lady who had been employing her was quite surprised by this behavior and was told by another maasi that she had learned all these new way of doing things after she had come back from Saudi Arabia. An ironic world indeed when labourers learn about human rights after returning from Middle East.

Bismillah, alhamdulillah.

It was an interesting day today. An earlier start than usual with a visit to the Agha Khan University Hospital. It sits on a large site on prime real estate in Karachi. Reputed to be the best hospital in Karachi and possibly the whole of Pakistan a walk through its courtyards and well manicured lawns only served to enhance the reputation. Patient flow seemed to be very well organised and the parking lot was full to capacity.

I was not surprised to find out the costs of health care at the Agha Khan were huge and it was not an uncommon story for people to rack up very large bills in short period of time as usually elderly relatives or parents are admitted. The relatives are then left gasping as they face bills of up to 800,000 RS to pay. Some are left with few options except to sell their houses or other major assets in an effort to raise the cash. The terrible ethics of  such a situation are by no means limited to the Agha Khan hospital but are repeated time and again across the subcontinent where the unhealthy mix of medicine and money has led to the industrial exploitation of patients and worried relatives.

Central oversight is limited and the lack of good national health care options only serve to compound the situation. Coupled with an anxious and growing middle class the health sector provides any profit oriented entrepreneurs a glowing opportunity. As we settle back into our car and drive out of the Agha Khan Hospital the thought of a cap on costs especially with emergency cases crosses my mind. Perhaps the idea would work but would be unlikely to survive the interference of interested parties.

The thoughts of exploited patients recede as we drive through the dusty roads of Karachi, reminding me of a desert town. It feels we are sitting on the edge of a desert and perhaps the sands of the Rajistan desert are blowing across the Sindh plains leaving Karachi covered in a layer of dust.  Later that afternoon sees us visiting a cloth shop where I learn about the different composition of cloth that is used to make the famous Pakistani men’s national dress ’shalwar khamees’. They range from 100% cotton to 50% cotton mixes with polyester or other mixed fibres and 100% polyester. I am assured 100% polyester is the warmest cloth while cotton leaves you feeling cool. An avaerage sized man requires 4 metres of cloth, while a 10 year child requires 3 to 3.5 m. Large men around 6 feet tall require 4.5 metres.

The evening ends with a dinner and listening into political analysis by concerned citizens about the situation in the frontier provinces where the Pakistan army is battling against Taliban militants. The locals in the room are convinced this is a plot of the Indians and Americans,as their army have captured men who were uncircumcised – clear proof of their non-Muslim origins. The fact that the story does not quite fit with the previous politically negotiated settlement between the government and the Taliban goes unnoticed.

Perhaps someone suggests this is a propaganda move by the government to alienate the population against the Taliban who can be painted as Indian agents. The thought is quickly dismissed as the conversation moves on to the anaylsis of their funding. One guest, a member of the Tablighi Jamat, is convinced the funding of the Taliban is coming from the USA and India, where else could they get so much money? The irony of the situation is that perhaps the same thought passes through the minds of others opposed to the Tablighi Jamat group who are frequently seen sending their members on missions all around the world as a dual exercise in self discipline and inviting others to their particular understanding of Islam. The man boasts that Nawaz Sharif himself had come with a bag of money but it was refused by the leader of the group, which only served to underline the question on their financial sources.

Bismillah alhamdulillah.

I don’t think it is an unusual phenomena when talking to people who have some relationship to Pakistan for the conversation at some point to meander onto the subject of politics.  Most Pakistanis will have identified the problems, be ready to offer their detailed political analysis and solutions. Their enthusiasm on the subject is matched by the certainty with which they believe their command of the facts are correct.

Having witnessed many such conversations since childhood across many continents with different people I have always wondered how it is possible for Pakistan to remain united and a single country despite the number of political machinations that take place, if the arm chair pundits and free analysts are to be believed.

Before coming I decided to read the wikipedia entry on Pakistan, perhaps not the most accurate source of information, but a handy one nevertheless. Some basic facts: There are 8 provinces (4 provinces and 4 what are labeled territories) which are made up of people who are ethnically distinct, speaking different over 60 different languages, from the plateaus of Baluchistan which borders Iran, to the fertile plains of Punjab to the NWFP (North Western Frontier Province) and FATA (Federally Administered Tribal Areas) areas where the mountain dwelling Pashtun tribes live and another reputed guest is said to be hiding out. Islamabad a newly built city in Pakistan has its own provincial status as does the ‘free’ or Pakistan controlled Kashmir region. The other provinces include Sindh, in which Karachi falls and North easterly equivalent of FATA called FANA (Federally Administered Northern Areas).

Karachi itself accounts for more than 50% of the GDP of the country and is the financial capital of Pakistan. Perhaps one of the chief reasons for this is its proximity to the sea being a major part and the influx of people over the many centuries the city and its pre-city elements have been around for. It has seen generals such as Alexander of ancient Greece and the young man from Taif in current day Saudi Arabia who changed the history of the subcontinent since his visit, Muhammad bin Qasim. Karachi witnessed the influx of hundreds of thousands of Muslims from current day India during the partition and these were mainly the technical classes who no doubt helped make Karachi what it is today. In the 1990s the second generation children of these immigrants began to express themselves politically and violently so in an effort to gain greater recognition by the state of their needs. Hence were born the Muhajir Qawmi movement and an off shoot called the Muttahida Qawmi movement.

In addition to the well known PPP, People’s Pakistan Party, of the late Benazir Bhutto and the Muslim League of Nawaz Sharif there are other more nebulous forces at play on the Pakistani political scene. The nebulous forces include the military and the various intelligence forces such as the ISI. It doesn’t take a person long to realise there are too many political groupings in Pakistan and there is a constant ebb and flow of loyalties between them. The play makers are the intelligence services but though they may play an essential role they on their own do not possess enough weight to bring about independent change.

So what manages to keep Pakistan together in this pot pourri of a nation? This is the natural question that keeps coming back to my mind. Britishers who find themselves in the company of people from the USA never fail to notice the degree of overt and genuine patriotism that citizens of the USA display to their country, it is a very in-your-face display that the British given their nature detest. The same can be said of Pakistanis, they are very proud of Pakistan yet quick to grumble about the various factions that exist and the misery which they frequently have to encounter. yet their adherence to the identity of Pakistan has no room for doubt or hesitation, whether Punjabi, Sindhi, Pathan or Muahjir they are united when it comes to their identity as Pakistanis.

So I sit scratching my head when the end of the 20/20 world cup brings a family around the television set. The eagerness with which they watch the match and with which they sing the national anthem is surprising. The zeal and spirit which they display is hard to match perhaps anywhere in the world. With every six runs hit by a Pakistani cricketer there is a loud roar of approval and with the winning of the match sweets are being distributed and the fire of what I am assured is gunshots peppers the night air. Even the nightly electricity cuts have been ordered to stop for this important occasion by decree of non other than the leader of the nation.

So what can I conclude from this? It seems to me cricket is a secret weapon in the fight for Pakistan’s survival. While the USA has considerable expertise and success in running their backyard in South America with a divide and rule policy they have no idea about the game of cricket and the degree of passion it induces in Pakistanis. Further as a function of the historical nature of cricket, Pakistan is effectively the only Muslim nation that plays cricket. All the other competing nations of note, Sri Lanka, India, Australia, UK, New Zealand, South Africa, West Indies and Zimbabwe are all non-Muslim countries. Every time an important match is played it is not uncommon to see people earnestly praying to Allah to make the Muslims win. Even the imam in our local masjid made an extra dua after the late night Isha prayer, and there was a suspicion that it had something to do with the cricket. The players duly obliged in playing their own on-the-field expression of their Muslim-Pakistani identity by prostrating towards Makkah in thanks to Allah for their victory.

All this together results in perhaps the most effective instrument to engender and inculcate a united Pakistani identity in the general populace. While cricket has been described as a game played by 22 fools watched by millions of fools the unintended consequences of this game are not in any measure trivial for the survival of Pakistan as a nation. 

         Day 2 sees us out and about into Karachi. Our first stop is a step into a piece of Europe.  We arrive at the entrance of a heavily guarded of a large warehouse store. The store is called ‘Metro’ a German company that has opened up shop just 3 months ago. After being thoroughly checked by armed guards we are allowed to enter to the car park and we look for a suitable parking spot. The car park is laid out neatly with marked parking spaces probably enough for at least 500 or more cars. To the right of the large blue coloured warehouse built with cheap corrugated metal sheets lies a large cabin sized generator with the words ‘Siemens’ written in large bold letters.

The other corner has a prayer room, neatly labeled and placed as far away as possible from the main warehouse store. The windows have unusual large red spots in the middle of the windows. There is a small ablution area and a small carpeted interior with two air conditioning units placed high on the walls.

Entering the the shop requires a Metro card or being in the company of someone who has a Metro card. A metal detector screens everyone and cameras are not allowed in, though ironically with such restrictions mobile phones with cameras are not stopped. Armed security guards are crawling everywhere and the staff are well trained and fall into the 20-30 age bracket giving the shop that fresh, young energetic look.

Getting inside you are greeted with a mirror of any large megastores in the West which are built on the outskirts of cities. Shopping trolleys are gleaming and new, easy to handle and the floor immaculately clean with sales men and women pressing you to try the latest coffee and popcorn with free samples. The aisles are neatly labeled and the shelves are full of goods from the latest laptops, Garmin GPS devices, mobile phones, sports rackets, motorcycles, fridges, Ariel washing powder, drinks, fruits, imported yogurts from France and all the cigarettes that any smoker would desire, the latest and best German made power tools and more.

Cigarettes are priced very competitively compared to the West and there is an obvious lack of awareness of the health implications of smoking. The tobacco companies are aggressively marketing their poisonous wares unchecked by any governmental supervision. The meat section is quite impressive, it is a large cold room with workers impressively dressed in uniforms with their heads covered and gloves giving an impression of surgical cleanliness.  The prices of fruits are unusually competitive. Below is a picture of  the price of mangoes, at 30RS per Kg they are more competitive than the mangoes outside with stall sellers who were asking 35 Rs/Kg on inquiring later that day.

As we make our way to the checkout my relative points to a room, inside you can make out two white gentleman sitting. They are well built probably around 6 feet tall each with blond hair. They look like the foreign managers who are running the show behind the scenes, they have three eager looking people sitting in front of them, probable new hires aspiring to employment in the clean environs of Metro.

The first 48 hours have definitely been quite hectic and there is more to talk and write about but I need to take a break now. I sit back and mull over the daunting challenge to Islamic social reformers who are faced with a population that is exposed to the alluring promises of a consumer based society.

Bismillah alhamdulillah.

Crime

We hired a taxi from the taxi hire counter and started our journey through the back streets of Karachi to our destination. In general this first step was an uncomplicated process but as we were being driven through the back streets I noted that furtive glances to the rear view mirror and side mirrors. My relative who has come to pick us up is keeping a close eye on the taxi driver. He explains things are better in Karachi but at night it is still potentially unsafe in less well lit streets with taxi drivers in cahoots with local mobsters. The unwitting passenger or tourist may find themselves facing a revolver placed at their temple while they are denuded of their goods. My relative explains this had happened just a few months prior to him in a street close to his home by a man wrapped in a cloth fielding a revolver which he had pointed straight at his temple. They survived the encounter in exchange for his wife’s fake gold bangles.  He points to  road where this happened, now only children can be seen playing street cricket. The summer holidays have started (1st June – 3rd August) and the children are oblivious to any potential dangers as they watch the ball as it soars into the sky, ‘Chekka!’ (Six!) they shout in a chorus clapping the batsmen.

The streets are paved but there is no obvious allowance for pedestrians and there is a mixture of transport, with people mainly driving small Suzuki like vehicles. Most look run down and I am not too sure whether this reflects the lack of disposable income or a fear of theft by the mob culture that pervades Karachi. The odd shiny Honda can be seen and ladies are comfortable driving through the chaotic, slow but generally good natured traffic that lines the roads of Karachi.