Nasir Zaidi

Ameer-ul-Momineen is not an ordinary title that anyone can claim it. It is not a worldly designation. It’s a title bestowed by the Holy Prophet on the command of God. Ameer-ul-Momineen means Commander of the Believers. Can anyone become the Commander of the Believers on his own?  Many titles of Imam Ali (a.s.) have been usurped by underserving people, one of which is Ameer-ul-Momineen. This title is so revered that no other Imam is referred by it. Once someone greeted Imam Jafar Sadiq (a.s.) by saying ‘Salam alai kum Ameer-ul-Momineen.’ To which Imam Sadiq (a.s.) said ‘Never again call me Ameer-ul-Momineen.’ The greeter was stunned. He asked: ‘Are you not Ameer-ul-Momineen?’    Imam Sadiq (a.s.) replied. ‘Technically I am, but we Imams don’t call ourselves or allow anyone to call us Ameer-ul-Momineen. That title is reserved only for our grandfather Imam Ali (a.s.). When eleven infallible Imams do not claim to be Ameer-ul-Momineen , how can any Tom, Di...

He had emerged victorious from a bloody battle. He had bruises all over his tiny fragile body. He was sitting in a corner pondering over his fate. I knew he didn’t have much time to live. With whom had he fought this deadly battle? I thought. Was it a territorial struggle? Or was it to win the heart of a lady? Or was it attacked by a foe bigger and stronger than him? As I tried to draw my own conclusions, I saw him shivering. Feathers had fallen off him. His tender body was exposed. His wounds were serious. He could hardly move. His eyes were closing. The sun’s merciless rays added to his discomfort. Then a strange thing happened. He took a step forward. He seemed to be in great pain. He was limping. Blood was dripping all over. The gallant little bird tried to fly for one last time. He didn’t want to die just sitting in a corner. He wanted to die by doing what he had always done. He wanted to fly. As he spread his wings, he collapsed. He had no strength left in him to take h...

What more does a man need than an isolated space in the favourite corner of his house and books to read? Can anything be more satisfying than sitting with a book in hand without a care of the world? Imagine a long wintry night and you are cosily tucked in bed, a soft fluffy quilt is covering you, the glow of the reading lamp is adding to the atmosphere of the room, and you have a book in hand…isn’t it something divine? And you are reading ever so slowly, savouring every word, not wanting to miss the magic of the moment.  Reading is oxygen for the mind. Nothing refreshes the intellect more than a good spell of reading. When you pick up a book to read, you enter the world the writer has created. And every time you read a new book you enter a new world. Isn’t this amazing stuff? How can there ever be a dull moment in life when there is so much to read?       A house without books is like the sky without stars. Books give the house a complete look...

Like a tsunami it hits you, catches you unawares. It breathes like a huge dinosaur. It has no time for Father Time, so much in a hurry it is. If on the one side you see muck and dirt then on the other side there is unimaginable wealth. It is a city of contrasts. Life moves on because it has no other option. There is no standing still and admiring the landscape; even if you were to stand still, there is nothing to admire. The hoardings and the billboards give the Mumbai landscape an unusual appearance. One gets to see nothing. But the city is indefatigable. It has tremendous energy. And it is contagious. Even the beggar at the street corner is busy. Despite the city crumbling under the sheer weight of the population that it supports; it still continues to attract. Like a giant magnet pulling iron pins and clips of all sizes. It is one of the few cities of the world that has charisma. It is a pot of gold. It is a playground where all can play. It is a stage where an...

Ying and yang, the Tao of life, Buddha-less moments, uncertainties, momentary blankness, and a snake that is as harmless as the garden lizard. The water running from an open tap, the water evaporating from the sea, the water that is still in a lake, the merriment of waves, the rise and fall, the gurgle, the roar, and the hush. Nowhere to go and yet the hope, I am lost somewhere and there’s no direction, the ways, the paths, the bleak landscape. Often the emptiness is filled with joy and often the joy is empty. If two and two is always four, then what is the need for an x? The right assumptions lead us to god. Bended knees, lifted hands, the cloudy prayer. The shells, the shrimps, the starry eyes of a lost starfish carve a path of the right way but there are strings of pearls scattered over the surface of desire. Woes and worries, the immature decisions, provocations, hurt feelings, and a soul that doesn’t know where to go; life doesn’t always throw up opportunities. Som...

An enchanting evening, a forgotten yesterday, the song of merriment, some bastard moments, ravishing future, and a journey to nowhere; life is a goose that sometimes lays a golden egg. The street is wet because of the sudden, unexpected shower. There is dampness in the air. The sky is dark like darkness. The heart has no yearning. A cat meows and a chair squeaks. Inside the womb of time, a zillion moments breathe. In the distance a light flickers; the cosmos world is barren. Some cars honk, then a well of silence. Quietly, quietness looms larger.  The vicissitudes of being a writer, the blocks, the reluctance of the muse to come, the paucity of ideas, the lazy mind, idle thoughts, the temptation of basking in the warmth of nothingness, the sheer joy of giving up, but the Grecian urn, the odes, Shakespearean sonnets, the Joycean prose, the dynamics of sentences, the beautiful struggle, they push you on. Stars of hope, leafy neighbourhood, the gentle raindrops, ...

Every generation has a legend. Ekhlaaq Hussain ruled the roost in the 70s and the 80s. There was no one who could compete with him. Of course, there was Sachey , the legendary Pakistani sahebae bayaz, who was a master in his own right. But I would rate him a step lower than Ekhlaaq because of one reason. When it came to reciting 4 stanzas, Ekhlaaq was unbeatable. He had complete mastery over rhythm and the ups and downs of each line. His breath control was perfect and at his peak he was faultless and matchless.  There are other notable nauha reciters like Nasir Jahan who was known as the king. His recitation of Saalam-e-Aakhir and Ghabrayegi Zainab is a class apart. Then, there’s Nazim Hussain who created a furore when he recited Shaam ka Bazaar, Abid -e Beemar . It is nauhakhwaani at its best. The modern legend Nadeem Sarwar has his own style and way, though he has lot of studio support. The others created magic without any technical assistance.  Co...

During a conversation with a senior colleague of mine, he remarked, ‘Nasir, you know it all depends on where the thing is – the thing itself maybe inconsequential but it assumes significance if it is placed elsewhere.’ I asked him to elaborate. He said, ‘Look at the snake. If it is on the ground people will rush to crush it but if it is around Shiva’s neck people will worship it.’ Never a truer statement was uttered. I thought and thought and thought. His words resonated in my ears and mind. Even now, it resonates.  Take the corporate world. In one department nothing happens while in another one promotions, solid bonuses and salary increases are given. The department where nothing is happening is like the snake on the ground and the department where things are happening is like the snake around Shiva’s neck. Likewise, in life, there are plenty of examples. If you wish to move on in life then see where you are placed. Relocate yourself. Reinvent yourself...

When we are enveloped in darkness then it means that we do not want to see light. The frog in the well thinks that the well is the world. To a chicken a falling leaf seems the sky. We should neither be the frog nor the chicken. Sometimes being impulsive is idiocy. The moments are merry when we share a cherry and a berry with others. If we think only we know everything then we should see the mirror more often. Narcissism destroyed Dorian Grey. I listen to the hooting of the owl and think I have become wise but the monkey on the tree imitates me and shows me my true worth. The waterfall creates a resounding din but is still beautiful; so ‘empty vessels make the most noise’ is not always true. We are all CEOs of I Inc. How we run ourselves distinguishes us from others. The sky that is blue is also grey at times. Time is never the same. Life is a movie that is in progress. At the end of the day when we review it, we realize that we were unnecessarily stressed out....

A vacant mind, the vacant eyes and the vacant sky gives the impression that vacation has begun but no, it hasn’t. Some impressions are false while some are real. The ones that are false don’t exist in reality and the ones that are real exist only briefly. We are caretakers of our dreams but we care less as we get on with life. We can write a great story about us but we are more interested in what the other person is writing. Often it is not wise to join the bandwagon; instead ride your own horse. The paths are many; each leading to somewhere. If we aren’t sure and don’t have a proper plan, then we will be lost. But if we are sure and have a proper plan, we will find our way to somewhere; somewhere where we deserve to be. Each one of us is unique; hence each one of us has a unique place. We only need to find it. The journey is treacherous and there is no short cut. The only companions we have are our courage and determination. And as we move on, we will have to face more hosti...

Dubai today resembles London and Mumbai. Grey Dubai is a rarity. From morning, it is gloomy. Raindrops fell like tiny diamonds being scattered by a wealthy prince. While driving to office, the mind was adrift. Like black clouds sailing in the sky. The mind thought of only one thing: What if this day turns out to be my last day?     Immediately the thought was confronted by another thought. No, this day should not turn out to be my last day. It doesn’t matter for the person who goes away – but it matters for the people around him or her. The other day at the funeral a young colleague of mine, many years my junior, was boasting that last week he was driving his car in Al Ain at 160mph.  I asked him if he was alone in this world. He said, ‘No Sir. I have my family.’ Then I told him if that was the case then he was doing a grave injustice to his family by over-speeding. There is no thrill in speed. It is courting disaster, flirting with death. Would he want his ...

Death is the most familiar thing that we all like to be unfamiliar with. It is only a split second away from us and yet we behave as it so distant. It’s a reality that we don’t want to accept. Or rather, we are forced to accept, because we have no option.  Death doesn’t bother about age. For it, anything that is alive, is a target. It is cold and cruel. Emotionless. When it strikes around you, it shakes you up, so much so, that for a moment you are left breathless. And when you start breathing again, you wonder, when it’ll be your turn.  Death is depressing, debilitating, devastating. Those who lose their loved ones are the ones who well and truly know what it means to be bereaved. I’ve had had my share of bereavements. My grandparents, sister at age 39, and mother were the ones that affected me the most. Also, uncles, aunts, other relatives, and friends and colleagues. Every death around you is a unique experience.  Like the one yesterday. A lady colle...

Imagine a situation:  A gang of cricket terrorists have kidnapped me. Their Demand : Pick 10 batsmen to chase 500 runs in 50 overs  In a Race against Time these are the 10 Master Blasters on whose batting skills I will rely upon. And if they can’t, then no other batting line up can… 4 West Indians : 1.    Vivian Richards: The man with the bat to kill. The original Hit-Man. When Viv goes berserk then only he can stop himself; no one else can. 2.    Chris Gayle: When he bats, he kicks up a storm. Gayle brings gale to the stadium. Brutal and ferocious. 3.    Gordon Greenidge: Some say on his day he was better than Viv. Need anything else be said about his batting prowess. 4.    Clive Lloyd: When his bat does the talking, then one can only sit back and enjoy the brilliance. He is the guy who once hit Bedi out of the Wankhede stadium in a Test match in Bombay. The ball was found on the railway tracks.  2 Indians...

You are your own brand ambassador. What you say defines your personality. What others think about you depends to a large extent on how you conduct yourself with them. It is very easy to form an opinion. That’s one thing that not only all of us love doing but we are damn good at it. In no time at all we are ready to crucify a person. That’s why it is more important to think twice before speaking. If you think thrice, then you narrow down the odds even further, of people forming an opinion. Though don’t be under the impression that if you are silent you are safe. Silence is sometimes perceived as dumbness. In the corporate world, especially. If you are quiet in a meeting or a discussion, then it is considered that you don’t have anything of value to add. So, people talk, even if they have nothing of value to add. Paradoxical situation – but that’s the way life is. Coming back to you are what you say , I believe we should never drop our guard while interacting with people becau...