Health is Wealth

Some Health Bulletin

I had this feel-good factor within me - that I have trained myself tough, that I need very little care about my body or health, that I can withstand extremes (heat or cold), that I can mostly get away without medicines. The onset of gouty arthritis as a reality had to be accepted as I reached 58, and I had to submit to the support of a small dose of daily 'chemical' input to stabilise my bio-chemistry dealing with the generation of purine in my body.  After months of experimenting, I found relief with the support of a half tablet prescribed for a day - which I have stretched to 1 tablet in 3 days.  God, willing, perhaps, I will be able to make it 1 tablet for four days. 

I was surprised to see that my ENT cavity responded promptly to the intake of an unusually cold piece of sweet melon, and I was struck by a rare incidence of Coryza.  As usual, I didn't mind (as my experience with common cold had been with no medicine a week or 2, with medicine - which I observe with others - is 7 to 14 days!), and took to the usual way of neglecting it, and made an already planned air trip to India with it. On arrival in Delhi, I observed that my left ear was almost blocked.  But thought of it as an after effect of the cabin pressure variation of the flight. 

From Delhi to Lucknow to Sitapur - a new community, new environment, new set of responsibilities.  Perhaps, for the first time in my life, I lost sleep on account of severe tooth ache - not exactly tooth, but the lower left jaw was giving immense pain.  I still felt grateful that in spite of that I could still snatch some sleep, and still manage to eat some food. And felt grateful that for long 58 years I had been spared from any such pains! God is great!  Does that sound 'being positive'.  I am not just feigning a pietistic sanctity.  But I genuinely felt so.  So, no complaints to any one - not even a prayer to God for healing, I hope God takes care! 

But couldn't risk further and spoil the time in suffering pain, so I took the initiative to consult a doctor in the nearby mission hospital. I was not impressed by the young boyish looking brown skinned doctor, who appeared to have no great engagement when compared to other OPDs of the rather well established BCM (Bishop Charles Memorial) hospital at Khairabad, 7 kilometres away.  [Fr Johny took me there and I led the celebration of the morning mass with a huge community of Holy Cross nuns (majority of them Malayalees) and nursing college students.] But he examined my mouth, declared the teeth were still healthy and assessed them for a) accumulation of plaque which he would remove and b) disappearance of enamel - a natural phenomenon, which could be arrested by the use of a specific brand of paste (Strontium Chloride Hexahydrate Toothpaste).  He also recommended a mouth wash (Hexidine) to be used twice a day! Fortunately, no other medicine! And he worked on teeth, and I felt much relieved.  But the ear still continued to trouble, and was not getting freed, though not causing immense trouble. As age sets in, I realise with grace, gratitude and also some fear, the blessings of life and health.  Jesus promises 'life and life in abundance'.  It could be the eternal life - but it definitely begins here, and human effort should be to make life enriching, liveable, enjoyable - in spite of all the constraints. 

The typical effort is to aim at well-being as is it now being articulated in sustainable development goal (no. 3) good health and well being of all. Health definition by WHO (1948) as   "a state of complete physical, mental and social well-being and not merely the absence of disease or infirmity" implies, in fact, well-being.  I would even suggest that when we speak about one being healthy, it means wellness is assured. 

When I make these notes, I am on medication, which in the past 3 years, has become familiar to me, otherwise, something alien.  I used to take pride in the fact that I could live without medicines, that I don't get ill (then), that even if I got ill, I could just wait, take it easy and get over it... Since 2021 December, it is no longer so.  Almost 4 to 5 months of suffering with various impacts of gouty arthritis, finally, I forced myself to an initial one month course of medication, and am following it up, with a milder daily dose of medicince to prevent the excess of uric acid formation in the body.  

Now in the past one month, initially, it was a medical help with oral pain - diagnosed by the doctor as accumulation of plaque on the teeth, managed by physical cleansing by the dentist and the use of a prescribed tooth paste.  My practice of using the ayurvedic tooth powder is being stalled for the time being. 

Then, with cold persisting over 3 weeks, in the sultry-humid weather of Doha, I took a bicycle ride of some 20 kilometres, coming back enthused.  Next morning, I wake up, and find that I had great difficulty in opening my mouth - the locking joint of the right upper & lower jaws was hurting terribly, that I could not open my mouth  properly, let alone eat anything. My thoughts ran wild as usual - and I figured out that it could be (i) at the worst an attack of tetanus from the deep cut I received on 16th, in my effort to save a lemon which had already gone dry, the sharp knife cut my index finger, instead of the lemon, which slipped from under my finger. Usually the blood clots in a no time, maximum a few minutes.  Now, after more than 2 hours, the bleeding would not stop, and I realised that I needed medical support. Our regular consultant physician, in spite of his licenced clinic and staff, is not authorised to do a suture - that is Doha standard. So he advised another medical centre, where I was solemnly taken, as I didn't want to risk driving.  with the formalities done, a Malayalee doctor came, made enquiries, and then I was asked to come to a surgical room.  I suggested that suture be avoided. And he examined the wound and assumed that a small arterial nerve could be cut, and said he would try with a tape that would keep the cut closed.  Now the Malayalee nurse assists him, and he applies repeated generous doses of Betadine (I suppose) and then carefully administers the tape, two thin strips over an inch long, parallel on the index finger.  Then solemnly covers it with several rounds of gauze tightened to stop further bleeding.  I feel rather confident. The tightly covered bandage gets soaked in some liquid and turns reddish brown - either on account of Betadine or blood.  

I am fit to be at my desk, though not comfortable using the finger on the key board.  The wound appears smarting, and I don't provoke it further.  Our good friend had advised me to go for TT, which I had brushed aside.  And thankfully, doctor didn't ever raise the issue. 

But now, after 3 days, when the jaw became almost unopenable, I feared whether Tetanus is setting in.  Somehow, I linked Tetanus to joints becoming taut and painful. 

(ii) Still worse, I thought it could be some oral cancer setting in, and I am doomed for life. 

Whatever be that, I have to face. But the worst part is that the only legitimate pleasure permitted for the consecrated, I will be deprived off. Can't eat anything.  I could imagine a life where food, in liquid form, is given into the body either through some tube in the mouth, or a cavity on the throat or one even somewhere near the stomach!! Ghosh!! Can I still live happily? 

Had no other option but to go to a doctor. But put up with for the Thursday.  Did go out camping with out company, having almost nothing but some liquid, and tolerated and tested on Friday too, though I feared infection spreading from the ear to the brain and making me useless. 

Finally, on Saturday, first thing after the morning prayers, getting an appointment with Dr. Jegan Chacko, s/o the illustrious P.T. Chacko of Keralam! Dr Jegan cleared my appointment in the fast track in spite of the many waiting.  He examines my ears and nose, using some powerful torches, and finds my eustachian canal clogged with wax.  He links it to some allergy from the atmospheric humidity and the blockage of the cavity is from within and not because of any infection of the ear as such.  There is inflammation of the joint of the jaws. He says that I will have to do a course of antibiotics.  'Oh yes!! Willing to do anything now' is my attitude -  I only need to get my 'faculty of eating' back!! He prescribes 5 days of antibiotics, 7 days of anti-allergic, 7 days of anti-inflammatory tablets, 5 days of Dewax ear drops (2 times a day), and Otrivin nasal puff (2 times a day).  The drops and the puff were meant to attack the clogging from inside and outside, so that it would stand no chance to resist!! He also recommends steam for clearing the clogging.  Yeah, yeah.... I am  all willing! And I am all set to go. 

Medicines, puff, drops, (but no steam), afternoon, evening - Day One, Day Two, Day Three - and the lock of the jaws appeared to yield, and by night I could do some bit of 'sincere' chewing.  Not that I didn't eat anything day one and two.   I did it almost like a sacrifice, suffering rather acute pain in the bargain. In spite of the aches, my asanas based routine of fitness was not given up, except that I didn't dare to risk the jaw joint to further pressure of a head-stand. Another matter to be grateful for! 

Then day five - there is no pain on the jaw joint, and 'ephaata' - the ear is open! I complete the course of the antibiotic!

I was put on Aerinaze 2.5 mg, which is described as antihistamine, to counter allergy inducing histamine, an antibiotic Cefodox 200 mg to treat bacterial infection - especially for ear, nasal cavity and  urinary tract, and an anti-inflammatory Airtal 100 mg.  All these we are able to grasp thanks to the new (?) trends seen in the medical treatment - where every medicine is accompanied by detailed essay on what it is, how it works, and what are the warnings on possible side-effects.  I found this interesting - perhaps, more as a preventive against possible future litigations regarding the side-effects, 'that you had been adequately informed or warned'.  But I wonder how many would have the curiosity or patience to go through them.  It was for the first time that I ever scanned through any of them. 

Thus, as of now, my joy is great with no Tetanus nor Cancer.  But who knows - like the Devil who left Jesus for the opportune next turn, could be prowling around for the next turn! Till then, and even then, it is Deo Gracias!!

Mango Days in Sitapur - And some health-wealth experiences!

Back to Dasheri days

It was mango season at its peak.  (Incidentally, July 22, the date on which I decided to make these notes, is Mango Day!) The whole of Sitapur region appeared to me like one mango orchard stretched out on the two sides of the Lucknow - Bareilly highway which passes through Sitapur.  And being the season, there are vendors on the highway, in front of each of these orchards, with fresh mangoes for sale.  The season is that of 'Dasheri', which happens to be one of the top favourites in this belt - and for good reason.  Some say Dasheri is from 'das' which means 10 days, and the harvest season would be just about 10 days.  I never noticed this before, and felt that the season lasted for at least a month.  Anyway, that prompted me to look up - and I found to my surprise that Dasheri happens to be one of the 15 GI status mangoes of India, and it is said to have originated from the Dasheri village of Malihabad, just 25 kilometres away from the UP capital Lucknow, and the 200–300-year-old, mother tree is said to be still there in the grove.  (Now that becomes my natural next agenda on my next visit, DV, to that region!).  To my great disappointment, I found that the big-mouthed Kerala had not even a single species in the list, whereas UP had 2 other - Malihabad Dasheri and Langra.  I would have suggested Chandrakkaran and Prior for the status. (Neelam & Malgova are already there in the list with Tamil Nādu having the credits). Perhaps, I would make an effort. But all these stand dwarfed in looks, flavour and taste, when compared to Dasheri! It is said to be the mother of the present time popular brands of Mallika and Amrapali. Stories around how this was an exclusive possession of the Nawab of Lucknow, who wouldn't even let a seed go out of the orchard, jealously guarding it as a monopoly etc. are legends by now.  Somehow, one seed or a few escaped the rigid security - perhaps, by birds, and it was propagated. 

I recall that in 1991, as I arrived at Dharmaram Vidya Kshetram for my B. Th programme, almost a month after the session began, on account of the delayed final year BA exams of Bareilly university, I had carried a box of Dasheri for my section.  I don't know how far they relished it, or realised its significance.  In those days, when I was a college student, being at the bishop's house where mangoes came from all corners as gifts, I would feed myself exclusively on them. 

I felt the variety used to be available for a stretch of almost one month, starting July till the end of the month or even beginning of August. Then would arrive chausa, which is still more fleshy and sweet, and could be treated as the King. But I have great preference for Dasheri - they come in all sizes from 3 inches in length to 6 inches at times, and appearing longish-oval like a bottle. The peel (epicarp) is rather thick, with a waxy leathery pliability.  The ideal way of relishing Dasheri is to gently squeeze the flesh (mesocarp) into a pulp not letting the peel break.  When you feel that it is all set and almost liquid-like, you gently pierce the pedicel part, squeeze a few drops out to get rid of the acid content usually found in that region, and then just gently suck the liquid pulp, while supporting the process by squeezing the mango as and when required to let the whole of pulp out through the hole at the stalk.  If the mango is good, and you can do your job well, only the skin and the stone (endocarp) will remain.  If the mango is overripe or if you are bit too greedy to get the stuff out, then the peel may break and it can become a little messy, as typically it might happen with this age-old practice with mangoes.  However, with some care, Dasheri can give you the experience of the most naturally bottled mango juice! 

It was just about Rs. 30.00 per kilo and my friendly neighbour and the present superior of the Sacred Heart Monastery at Sitapur, had already bought about 5 kilos of mangoes - claiming to be daal ke pakke (ripened on the stalk)! That claim is indicator of the freshness of the mangoes and that no artificial method was used to ripen them.  In spite of 3 decades between my last encounter with Dasheri (1991), I could recognize that they were not daal ke pakke (ripened on the stalk)! And the inner coloration of the pulp revealed that some chemical (Calcium carbonate?) had been used to get the mango to claim the status of ripened.  Still, they were tolerably sweet. And no one bothered about the chemicals.  If that were to be a botheration, you could not perhaps have any mangoes in UP.  In spite of the region being rural and agricultural, there could hardly be any claim regarding the delicious mangoes being organic - perhaps, they are safe to eat. 

The orchards are taken on contract by vendors in advance ensuring that watering happens in time. They spray a round or two of chemicals prior to inflorescence so as to prevent the attack of insects.  Then there is some hormone spray that would happen immediately after the trees are on flower - this is perhaps to ensure that pollination happens well.  Some may do another round of spray to prevent the entry or attack of insects. 

Usually, the family that has taken the contract camps in the orchard, in the open.  Parents and children taking turns.  Cooking, eating, sleeping in the open in the orchard - probably the children not having to go to school as the summer vacation is on, or perhaps they don't go at all.  They ward off the orchard from theft by humans (rare) and by other beings - especially the vanarsena.  They come in hordes and not just eat, but really destroy the fruits, unless they taste the pain of being there. For the farmer, they are a real menace, and they get emboldened day by day, and even turn aggressive at times, if someone walks in their direction alone.  But they are also able to sense the difference between the strong ones and week ones, and women are generally more prone to be taken easy in their raids of gardens and homes.

Anyways, for the 10 odd days, I spent at Sitapur, I feasted on mangoes - relishing four to five mangoes each for lunch and dinner, with just nominal intake of any other food. 

Dasheri - Sitapur to Doha (via Delhi)

I thought of taking some mangoes for our admin leadership team and the Sitapur team gladly procured some varieties of mangoes which included Dasheri, Chausa and some Kalmi (so they claimed).  They were procured from some wayside vendors in the neighbouring village.  I had hardly any other thing to carry than my laptop, one pair of dress and the mangoes.  So, I thought it would be fine. The 100 odd kilometres to the airport presented mango vendors all through on both sides of the four-lane high way, temptingly inviting, and with very affordable price.  But could in no way accommodate. I reached airport well in time for the Vistara flight.  The check-in showed that I had half a kilo excess baggage and I told I could very well adjust that, but they said it was ok. 

The next day, early morning I left for Delhi airport from our residence at Harinagar by an uber taxi, very affordably priced at Rs. 250.00 (I could recall times when we had to spend around Rs. 1000 in the pre-gas era of Delhi to reach the airport). At the check in desk, I was in for a shock treatment with the young check-in officer being very curt and strict, announcing that my ticket does not permit any check-in baggage, but just 7 kilos of cabin baggage! That was a crude shock! The after-effects of going for cheap flights! It was Oman Air - the flight to Delhi did permit 30 kilos, and it never struck me that the flight back was indicating no baggage allowed.  It had never occurred to me that such international flights could be there, or that I should have looked for such catches while going for a cheap ticket! All my dreams of taking the precious mangoes to our friends there getting shattered in a moment. Then I thought: Anyway, I have gained some Rs. 10000.00 by using this ticket.  Why not think of paying the extra for the baggage.  So, I ask the agent, how much would the luggage cost.  He made some calculations and mumbled 12, and I assumed, perhaps, 1200.  I was willing to give it a try, even if it were some 3 to 4 thousand!  But then he clarified 12000.00 minimum! baap re!  I made a quick assessment and found that with that I could purchase a whole of set of trolley bags and several kilos of premium mangoes in Qatar! 

As he was not budging or showing any indication of being helpful, I stepped outside the queue.  Took the mangoes out.  The precious chausa had already become overripened, and were showing the signs of damage.  I removed the carry-bag packs of  chausa and kalmi, and merged whatever Dasheri was available into one single pack and christened it my food pack! Asked if the porters would like to have them.  They indicated that I could leave them there, and they would take at their ease. 

Then I went back to the queue.  The young strict officer was still wearing his unsympathetic mien, but it appeared to me that he was just trying to make things official. He asked if I had check in baggage, I said no. He asked my bag to be weighed - it was only 6 kilos plus! Great relief. I mumbled that I had a food package - but he didn't seem to pay attention.  Besides, I was having my lap-top bag, my pouch, my shoulder bag with documents and money - but all those attached to my person, not requiring separate space, though the mango pack was still more than 5 kilos.  He cleared me, issued the boarding passes and I moved away from the area.  Put the mango pack back into the trolley bag and pushed off. No more of scrutiny regarding its weight either at the security or at the entry into the flight, though he himself was there to check the boarding passes, and seeing my bag, bit oversized for the cabin luggage could have asked for a verification or weight.  But that was not to be. 

Again, there was another set of checking by the airways just prior to the door of entry.  And I observed a discrimination with those who had a typical appearance of labour class youth were being asked to open their baggage, whereas elderly like me, were let go without any such scrutiny. 

On arrival, of the dozen or more of the precious Dasheris, I found 3 or 4 partly damaged on account of lack of proper packing.  The rest were okay.  I could still share some of them with the admin leaders and with fellow CMI Fr Joshy. 

But, oh boy!! a well ripened Dasheri - either peeled and sliced and slightly chilled, or pressed - squeezed and sucked in the most natural way - is a treat, nay, a rare rare blessing! Indeed, heavenly sweet, and something I cherish as an affordable, natural delicacy. 

This had been the best blessing on the food-fruit front in a matter of 30 years! And I feel immensely grateful!

A Tragedy as a Tail end

I was received and dropped back by our driver Boniface, who was always seen wearing a mask. Though originally from Jharkhand, he had been with the college from the beginning.  Later, I learnt that he was a cancer survivor, and his face had depressions from cancer treatment which forced him to use the mask always.  But he was enthusiastic and smart. I was surprised to see him drink an energy drink cost Rs. 125, when we, the supposed to be bosses, were drinking tea worth Rs. 10.00.  Then Fr. Johny revealed the cause that he couldn't use hot or spicy drinks, and hence had to go for some substitutes. 

On the return trip he was enthusiastically pointing out to the various features, institutions etc. enroute, including the famous 'aam mandi' of Lucknow. It is really huge with mangoes coming from all directions.  He dropped me and returned with Fr. Saji. 

Later, at night in Delhi, I receive a call from Saji, that Boniface had a stroke while arriving back, almost half a kilometre away from the institute.  Saji observed that the vehicle was not in control, was likely to crash, and he found him in trouble. Somehow, he snatched the steering wheel, and managed to pull the vehicle to a halt, only to find the driving already collapsing.  The hospital was not far away, and he was directly taken there by Fr Saji.  (It was indeed a great miracle and presence of mind of Fr Saji that averted a fatal accident).  The doctors felt that it was a lost case, but they shifted him without delay to the medical college Lucknow, where he struggled for a few hours, and departed for good. It was told that even if he had survived, it would have been basically a vegetable life, with no ability to respond or move around!  A very unexpected and sad end.  He was just in his mid-forties, survived by his wife and kids.  He had managed to secure a home for himself in Sitapur.  They took him back to his ancestral land, the very same night, to Jharkhand, where he was buried.  May he rest in peace! 

Qatar - Exploring Ras al Nekh, Al Khor & Thaqab Fort, Al Ruwais

 

Vegetation on the Al Khor - Ras al Nekh shore                                                                                     

2023, June 29^th – Al Khor

We directed our Thursday night camp to Al Khor, our familiar rendezvous on the beach near Ras al Nekh.  We had come with the determination to spend time on the islet close to the beach.  It is about 300 to 400 meters away from the shore across the shallow water. The water was pleasantly warm, ankle deep at the shore, but as we walked with our bags and food packs, we found the water level rising and going beyond the knees, making our rolled-up trousers getting soaked in the saline water.  With some foot wear on, wading across the waters was not tough, as experience had taught us that the ocean bed would be strewn with pointed fragments of rocks, or reefs gradually getting transformed to a calcite sedimentary rock.

From 37 to 42 degree Celsius in Doha, the sudden dip in temperature below 30, made us feel refreshingly cool, for me, rather cold. I regretted I had not taken a jacket.

We came across a Sri Lankan duo diligently involved in ‘crabbing’, and sought their consent to look into their catch.  A 10 bucket was almost full to the brim with their catch of the night. The crabs were aplenty, and had to be caught with a fork like tool.  They were of average 5 to 6 inches spread, including their legs. I wondered what they could make of it, and how would they manage to extract some flesh of all those shells protecting their tiny piece of flesh.

The island was rocky all around and towards the east more like extinct corals.  Close to the waters it sloped with sandy shores inviting you to lie down.  The moon was on its gaining phase and we had sufficient natural light to sit down and enjoy our packed dinner of ‘chicken puyyapla’ and ‘paal kappa’ from The New Raandal restaurant in Doha. Delicious, but the spicey chicken seemed to invite some negative responses from the gut or oesophagus! Our team was all eager to go to the edge and try their bad luck with their fancy angles and baits (shrimp worth QR 20) for the umpteenth time!  I had a sound but short sleep of about 2 hours, and Divakaran was already below the horizon, now all mild and pleasing without appearing.  Soon he was up, indicating that it was time that we left our favourite haunt.

Qal'at al Thaqab Fort

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Deciding to explore newer areas, we thought we will have a stop over at the already explored Zubara fort.  A drive of some 65 kilometres. It was covered in less than an hour and we found the fort and premises closed – most likely for vacation. Pushing on further in Ruwais direction, we decided to explore the historical site of Fort Thaqab.  The road took a rough turn – something like the typical ordinary pukka roads of rural India, only to change its mien into something of a real off-road track.  All around was vast desert space, apparently being utilised as a rubble dumping ground, which was gradually taking the shape of small hills. But beyond them, there definitely was a range of typical Qatari hills – the mix of laterite and calcite as they appeared to my untrained eyes.  We saw a fort like structure with an adjoining green patch and the uneven and unbeaten track led us there. We pushed open the latched door of an apparently new fort structure, built in the old fashion, and found it good. We got out soon, but the neighbouring green farm was inviting, and we decided to enter and explore.  With the functional Arabic of the marketing man in Alan, we managed to receive a welcome from the Sudanese overseer, who took us to the first among the rows of houses built in a strange way. As we began to take some pictures of the room with its very unique ceiling, there appeared someone else in the typical Qatari thobe.  And we realised that he was the Kafil.

Perhaps, our first encounter with a local – In Qatar, to get to know a Qatari (real or settled from Iran or Egypt) is not easy.  They apparently lead a very high profile and secluded life, with the vast majority of the ex-pats supporting the minority local population (1:5 - less than 500000 being served by almost 2500000).  We were pleasantly surprised by the warm welcome offered by Mr Muhammed Fayyad and his enthusiasm in sharing the bit of Malayalam and Hindi he was familiar with. 

He hinted at his experience with India – with Palakkad, Ootty, Mysore and Kodaikanal being his familiar haunts.  He appeared a Kerala lover – the yard has almost 5 cents of land devoted to huge ‘karibatta’ (curry leaf plants – native Arabic speakers struggle to pronounce ‘p’ as Arabic doesn’t offer that sound), growing verdantly and giving the area a coolness. We found a bee hive happily humming around on its branches. There were 3 coconut palms, one already bearing fruit – a very unique feature for a Qatari garden plot. But the larger section of the 450 m x 200 m plot is dedicated to date palms, bearing abundantly. There are three poly houses for vegetable production.  Four or five single-storey structures have been built – basically on the principle of ‘recycling’ (read, repurposing) – with packing materials, or discarded structures or furniture converted into doors, windows and panels, air-flow being managed using some Chinese technology, the ceiling of various modes employed to prevent heat from entering the rooms, used plastic bottles converted into shades for bulbs, natural light being permitted inside the room.  The reception area is unique with its four-fold ceiling to keep it cool in the hot summers.  There is accommodation for almost 10 to 14 guests – with a gym, a pool, a dining area and all other expected facilities.  Today, they looked dusty and not ready for use.  However, the guests come announced, and I trust they are treated to their expectation as evinced by the very many entries in the guest book.  He insisted that we make an entry in Malayalam.

 

One house is dedicated to his experiments in technology – he is a proud possessor of a price collection of radios – one a century plus old German make, which works as a radio and a telecommunicator with facilities to send coded messages with 18 channels.  He made us listen to a Malayalam FM channel, which played with the greatest clarity. Then there is a very attractive Philips and another of Russian make – appearing equally old, but still functional. The discarded pieces by his friends are collected by him, and his knack for the devices leads to them being in good repair. For furnishing he continuously improvises using construction materials – the latest of which is a Greek structure, he has constructed without steel, and has tested through the varying seasons over two years.

He also spoke passingly about religion, and how he was interested in the texts of other religions and how foolish it was to fight in the name of religions. He is also abreast with international relations and he has very keenly observed the changes happening in India under the Modi government, and the latest efforts at friendship between India and US as an endeavour to thwart the Chinese threat to both nations… Regarding his own ancestry and of the locality, which seemed to have nothing other than that oasis and his own presence, I couldn’t grasp what he said – something about his ancestors having been there for some 700 years.

We were offered masala tea, and he insisted that we carry some curry leaves. 

Now we are awaiting his presence on the campus, where I hope he could share his experiments and interest and some bit of the culture of Qatar as it evolved before his eyes. So, a new leaf to our Friday Finds.