• Day of Reckoning No dog in our town was safe. Mo and his gang instinctively reached for stones the moment they saw one. With savage glee they would attack the mongrel as if impelled by some atavistic urge, as if not to hurl a rock would violate some secret adolescent code. Similarly, no schoolgirl could escape their catcalls. When ... Read more...
  • Fearless intellectual activist like no other I vividly remember the day, some 30 years ago, when the cover story by Asghar Ali Engineer was published in the Illustrated Weekly of India. With Sayedna Moahammed Burhanuddin’s picture on the cover and the title “A Law Unto Himself”, the article created a sensation. Nobody had dared to challenge Sayedna Saheb so openly so publicly before. It gave us young Turks a new sense of mission and energy. Instinctively, we knew this man was on to something. Bohras, who are generally meek and tend to mind their own business, are not quite used to this kind of dynamic personality rising in their midst. Read more...
  • On the wings of hope Why would one write poetry, I don’t know. Why would one write anything at all, I don’t know. This much I know that we humans are a creative bunch. We create things, invent things. We just can't help it. Without this innate, ancient urge to create I wonder where would we be today. But then, with the creative yin comes the destructive yang. Our amazing creative talent is balanced by our instinct for awful destruction. Between these two opposites, this duality, resides the secret of our visible universe. Read more...