The Elephant Clock of Al Jazari

A Most Ingenious Mechanical Device

One of the centre pieces of the India Court at the Ibn Battuta Mall in Dubai is the Elephant Clock, based on a medieval invention by Al Jazari, celebrated craftsman, mathematician and astronomer.

Al Jazari, born in 1136, upper Mesopotamia served as a engineer to the court of the Turkish Artudid dynasty that ruled Eastern Anatolia and the areas that are now northern Syria and Iraq. The elephant clock, featured in Al Jazari's manuscripts, The Book of Knowledge of Ingenious Mechanical Devices, is an early humanoid robot featuring a mechanical mahout who strikes a cymbal every half hour.

The Book of Knowledge

The elephant clock above photographed by me at the Ibn Battuta Mall is a stunning reproduction of the original and is featured below in illustrative form in the book of knowledge.

Najib Haqparast - نجيب حقپرست

This one, in particular, is a favourite of my brother's ...

... Paron Na Malomede (You Couldn't Be Found Yesterday)...
... by Najib Haqparast ...

Tor_Khan تور خان

Arabian Nights - ألف ليلة وليلة

When the usual hour arrived the grand-vizir conducted Scheherazade to the palace, and left her alone with the Sultan, who bade her raise her veil and was amazed at her beauty. But seeing her eyes full of tears, he asked what was the matter. "Sire," replied Scheherazade, "I have a sister who loves me as tenderly as I love her. Grant me the favour of allowing her to sleep this night in the same room, as it is the last we shall be together."

Schahriar consented to Scheherazade's petition and Dinarzade was sent for...

... "Will your highness permit me to do as my sister asks?" said she. "Willingly," he answered. So Scheherazade began ...

And so begins the story of the 1001/Arabian Nights, the quest to save a city and the world from a king, who starts off good, but has lost his way because of a broken heart following a deception.

A couple of years ago I read Aladdin and the Enchanted Lamp by Philip Pullman to a group of school children on camp (late night drinking cocoa before we went to sleep) - I had absolute attention and everyone of them was carried away with a story that they already knew, but as if listening for the first time - a magic carpet ride for sure.

The contents and the origins of the stories in A Thousand and One Nights/Arabian Nights (Farsi: هزار و یک شب)/(Arabic: ألف ليلة وليلة) have Arabic, Indian and Persian elements in the tellings and re-tellings, so what we have is a pot pourri of tales. In the tradtion of oral story telling that these stories come from, changes here and there have kept these stories entertaining. The most famous stories - Sindbad, Aladdin and Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves are known to many. The features of the stories that I like, is the story within a story frame, the clever use of magic, surprise and cliff-hangers, set against an Islamic backdrop that covers far and wide places - Samarkand, Baghdad, Cairo and so - all held within the story arc concerning King Shahryār, his murderous broken heart and his Queen Shahrzād.

Richard Burton's compilations and translations have an known element of orientalism in them - and in my opinion - best read in the expurgated form. Contemporary versions exist too, notably Mohsin Mahdi's Arabic version, translated into English by Husain Haddawy. Last year, the Telegraph favourably reviewed yet another version (this time by Malcolm and Ursula Lyons).

Andrew Lang's version (the passage above comes from his retelling) also remains popular and is available here in PDF and other forms.

رمضان مبارک

ټولو ته  د روژه میاشت ډير ډير مبارک وي  

Tor_Khan تور خان

A Tale of Two Summers and a Place In-Between

Some things burn in the back of your mind and for a long time, I have wanted to mention an essential piece of reading. Last summer, an old colleague of mine recommended a book that even beyond reading, I have continued to find inspirational. In fact, in many ways, it stands as an example of some of the things that I want achieve, InshAllah. The Places In-Between is a rather unconventional travelogue by Rory Stewart, a Scottish writer in which he documents the 2002 winter walk that he undertook from Herat* to Kabul (though his travels actually went beyond Afghanistan). He walked cross country at a time when bombs reigned down from the skies following the US invasion. Sometimes he was accompanied, often not; a non-Muslim stranger in a Muslim land, following in the intrepid footsteps of the Mughal Emperor Babur's journey across Afghanistan.

Rory Stewart now heads the Turquoise Mountain Foundation in Kabul which sets out to equip Afghans with the skills, knowledge and enterprise to bring commercial viability to traditional crafts. At a time when people have mixed feelings on the foreign occupation in Afghanistan, I take much inspiration from people like Rory.

And here is where this summer comes in. Exactly one summer ago, I made the decision that travel to Afghanistan was a possibility. Last week, just as I was about to depart for Kabul, the Taleban took control of a semi-constructed building in Pul-e-Alam, Logar and started firing missiles and rocket launchers into a nearby government target. This summer happens to be election season in Afghanistan, and violence has reached a dangerous level.

My destination was Logar where I intended to stay with a very dear friend who had been asking me to visit all summer. Three hours before I was due to board my plane from Dubai, I was advised by very well meaning Afghan friends, not to go. The irony? I, a Pashtoon, who can blend in and am ethnic Afghan, am caught in that place in-between.

*Qutb Shah father of my paternal ancestors, the Awan, was a ruler of Herat.

Kabir Stori - کبیر ستوری

I share a poem هر انسان مين دی* by Dr Kabir Stori (ډاکټر کبیر ستوری) Pashto scholar and psychologist, born in Khas Kunar, Afghanistan in 1942. Kabir Stori, a follower of Bacha Khan's non-violent philososphy of national unity spent his adult years teaching in Germany. He died in 2006 and was laid to rest in his native Kunar. His list of writings include research papers on psychology and his Pashto literary works are modern classics, that have inspired many contemporary Pashto artists.
هر انسان مين دی* = everyone loves

که زما ستوری په قبر چيرته راغلي
-
په پښتو راته دعا کړه پري مين يم
If you come to Stori’s grave sometime,
Pray for me in Pashto, because I am a lover of Pashto

Tor_Khan تور خان

Planes, Trains and Automobiles

Alternatively:
Rickshaws, Motorbikes, Taxis, Buses and Trucks

Public transport is very much a private enterprise thing in Karachi. Chugging around town in rickshaws is a fun, if noisy and often cramped way to get around.

Alternatives modes of transport in Karachi include taxis (think Datsuns from 1966) and buses and motorbikes with entire families.

Shireen Jinnah is home to the city's Pashtoon truck drivers. The trucks, buses and even rickshaws come made up in all colours, painted slogans and tin dressings - beadwork, hangings and ribbons to ward off evil. Nothing less than a contemporary form of art. Way cooler than anything you see in other places. That said road discipline is not a high priority, comfort doesn't come into it and safety is something that has not yet been thought about.

My regular commutes from Shireen Jinnah to Gulshan-e-Iqbal meant that I was regularly stuck in the constant fight-for-a-space traffic for an hour or more. The pictures here show some glimpses of how people get around.

Madrassah

On a TV news item on the causes of terrorism in Pakistan, the matter of poverty and desperation came up - one comment was that ordinary folk became recruits for militant activity, because they didn't connect with the politicians in Islamabad who were too busy being chauffeured around in brand new Mercedes cars.

I went to a madrassah a couple of days ago where boys and girls are housed free of cost and schooled in an Islamic education. This was quite a 'modern' madrassah with computers as part of the standard education - the students in school were pulled in from varying regions and represented a cross section of the different ethnic groups in Pakistan. Technology classes hadn't started yet, so it would have been interesting to see how this was applied to the students' learning. What was clear was how the school was open about its missionary purpose - it was run by a group of Sunni Gilgitis, themselves a minority in the Ismaili Shia dominated northern tip of Pakistan.

Madrassahs have come under the spotlight, of course, because they are funded by non-government sources and are often pointed at for churning out the next batch of suicide bombers.

Whatever the truth, present and past governments have an abysmal track record on education spending. The education budget counts for peanuts, so surely the blame lies not with the madrassahs but with successive Pakistan governments for whom education has not been a priorty.

Karachi Kops

World levels of corruption should well and truly make us stand up and voice protest, but here in Karachi, people just take it in their stride. Just the other day, a police official stopped our car and asked for 50 rupees to allow us to proceed along a shabby road that he was "monitoring". How does the ordinary person stop corruption when we are held to ransom like this?

*Karachi Kops, incidently was a programme on British television some years ago, based on the goings on of the Gulshan-e-Iqbal police force - Gulshan-e-Iqbal is right where I am right now.