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My World: Heat wave...

fahim mohammed

Well-known member
It is scorching down in the desert. The schools have just finished. Three youngsters with broken down sandals skip their way to their meager homes.

They hold a stick in their hand. There are berries on these thorny trees. The kids might be able to shake them off the tree...eat a few, sell a few.

You know Faisal, says Fahim, maybe your mother has some old beef left forgotten?
No, says Ali. I would have eaten it by now, he continues. The kids head home, lost in some kid thoughts.

Wish we had money, says Faisal. Why?, from Fahim. You would waste it anyway adds fahim.

No, says Faisal. I would save some money, buy my father and mother some food and keep the rest for studies.

Ali laughs. We the students. More like keeping our camel pen clean, if there are ever camels for us.
Let's get some homework done, else no schools either. At least we have shade in the school.


Ali makes an expert motion of his hand..like a wizard on your left. Snip. Faisal cuts. On your right.

Years spent in the States, Canada, and Saudia. Cleveland Clinic, Arizona, MI. Accredit ions from the schools in the States that would make anyone envious.

Now they travel to the States..on lecture and demo tours. Heart transplants authorities from Saudia.

They have to work on a friend from a Long time ago, when they did not have money.

Last night 9 paedriactic heart surgeries. There was a time when there was none. Faisal looks down on his friend on the table. Heart stopped.

He laughs. Looks up at Ali. Fahim has slept for more than 8 hours.
Time to bring Fahim home. And amongst his friends.

The school still stands.

Faisal and Ali exchange a glance. It never would have been about money. It always was about the desert and its people. Their people, in the first instance. And then the others who did not have the money, from anywhere.
 

Chris Calohan

Well-known member
Interesting take on your own journey from death to life. Now, you must honor those who brought you back by taking care of the gift.
 

fahim mohammed

Well-known member
Interesting take on your own journey from death to life. Now, you must honor those who brought you back by taking care of the gift.
Chris, what a glorious thing to say! And so very true.

I have something else to do...no?

My turn to help in my own small way. Cannot return the favor. But I can try.

Kindest regards.
 

Asher Kelman

OPF Owner/Editor-in-Chief
Fahim,

It's all a miracle of helping one another! BTW, medicine came from the courts of Baghdad and constantinople to Europe. After the medical schools were established in Rome, the Middle Eastern folk were banned from working there, LOL!

Wonderful to hear the good stories of how a desert transferred its wealth to be at the "cutting edge", (apt here, LOL), in medicine!

Heal well, each day, another victory!

Asher
 

Chris Calohan

Well-known member
Chris, what a glorious thing to say! And so very true.

I have something else to do...no?

My turn to help in my own small way. Cannot return the favor. But I can try.

Kindest regards.
One should always pay it forward for such a gift. If yours is only to teach someone the art of photography, buy groceries for someone less fortunate, then you honor the gift.

My wife and I are helping to put a homeless girl through college. She is quite smart but very, very poor and has been sexually abused, beaten, left by the side of the road to fend for herself, yet made it to school almost every day because she knew that was her only possible hope. She graduated high school with a 3.9 GPA.

While we can barely afford to do this, we feel we must because it is indeed a terrible thing to waste a promising life. Our only demand to her is to someday be as generous to another in a similar situation. Anyway, it gives us something to smile about.

We should all endeavor to be as good to one another as humanly possible. You are a good man Fahim and I think in your time left you will find an equal gift to give.
 

fahim mohammed

Well-known member
Another small story from my actual real life experience. Simple stories. Simply told.

I am just a traveler. Not a writer. Not a photographer. Telling stories that are the fabric/s of my surrounds.

" Each one travels alone. Alone, where it matters. Who do you call when you are alone? ". I was at peace. The ' Voice ' was soft and comforting. Was I scared? You bet.

" Who do you call when you are alone traveler? " who shall you call when you need someone to help you along through the darkness you just went through?.

I replied immediately. No hesitation.

There never ever was hesitation or doubt; and there never ever shall be one.

I have to be helped down to the hospital reception. Where I sleep, they do not allow visitors except for a few seconds. And no kids at all!

Someone has missed me a lot. Somethings shall never change. Even if 3 friends of old can afford shoes.

 
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