Saad Shaikh, MD

The smell of spice was everywhere on this hot and humid Delhi morning: golden turmeric, deep-red chili, warm cardamom, and smoky cumin — an intoxicating blend that floated and settled on your skin. Everywhere, color danced and pulsed: saffron saris, indigo turbans, piles of chili powder bursting like embers, and sandstone buildings washed in teal and faded rose. All the while, the market buzzed with vendors calling out prices, bicycle bells ringing, and the rhythmic clatter of rickshaw wheels over stone. Color saturated the scene. Women’s saris glowed in shades of saffron, fuchsia, and peacock blue. Fresh powders were piled high in brilliant reds and golden yellows. The old buildings wore coats of time-softened paint, cracked but vivid: teal shutters, faded rose facades, bright laundry strung like prayer flags between balconies. Our guide had begun explaining the various spices, but my attention drifted — transfixed by something else. As you can see here, a young woman passed in front ...

It was a summer afternoon back in 2023 — a sweltering Rajasthani one, the kind where the heat wraps around you like a heavy cloak. Temperatures soared above 100 degrees Fahrenheit. The sun didn’t just shine — it beat down on you, relentlessly. The ancient stone beneath our feet radiated stored heat, turning the climb into something elemental. We had stopped at Ranthambore Fort on our way from Jaipur to Ranthambore National Park, where we were headed for a tiger safari. It was just my two boys and I. My younger son looked up at the long, seemingly endless staircase and groaned. “Stairs,” he muttered — a tired echo of Po from  Kung Fu Panda , staring up at his greatest foe. I smiled. “Cheer up. This is an experience. Life is one big experience — and if you understand that, you understand the meaning of it all.” As we began our slow ascent, monkeys peered at us from the ramparts, clearly eyeing our water bottles. Then I noticed something unusual: a man guiding his donkeys up the same ...

  Stop. A breath rests between inhale and exhale. A heart waits between beats. But the truest stillness is between thoughts. Here, stress dissolves. Here, life begins again. ----------- The word  “stop”  is universal — instantly recognized in its bold red octagon almost anywhere in the world. But what does it truly mean to stop, not just in traffic, but in life? I captured this image in front of a hotel in Siem Reap on New Year’s Eve 2023. At its center, the flowing curves of the local script add a quiet elegance, like a visual pause within the sign itself. It invites us to look past the literal message and into the subtle stops that exist in our breath, our heartbeat, and even our thoughts. Your breath, for instance, seems continuous, yet hidden within it are tiny pauses — brief moments of stillness. After an inhale, there’s a subtle, often unconscious hold before the body releases into the exhale. After the exhale, there’s typically a slightly longer pause before the ne...

The sun beat down on the dusty road as we left the magnificent Chand Baori stepwell in Abhaneri, heading towards Jaipur. The ancient structure, a testament to human ingenuity, had left me awestruck. But the journey itself was about to reveal another facet of India's resourceful spirit. As we traversed a small, impoverished village, the sight of camel-drawn carts was quickly overshadowed by something truly unique – a contraption that stopped me in my tracks. Captured in this photograph I took in 2018 is what can only be described as a testament to practical brilliance. A rudimentary truck, cobbled together from a basic metal pull cart frame, clunky wheels, and a simple tractor engine, stood before us. The wooden cargo bed, weathered and worn, hinted at countless journeys and heavy loads. It was a far cry from any vehicle I'd seen before, yet it was clearly fulfilling a vital purpose. My driver, Banti, sensing my curiosity, pulled the car to a ...

The giant sequoia ( Sequoiadendron giganteum ) stands as a testament to nature's grandeur. I recently encountered this magnificent species in two distinct settings: Sequoia National Park in California, during the summer of 2024, and at the Mata-Jardim José do Canto in the Azores, a few months later. The Azorean sequoia, one of the few on the islands, originated from seeds brought from California. While both trees share the characteristic towering trunk, reddish-brown bark, and overall form of a giant sequoia, subtle differences are apparent. The Azorean tree, though healthy and thriving in the humid, temperate climate, is not as tall as its California counterpart, and its bark possesses a distinct quality. These variations highlight the profound influence of environment on even the most genetically predisposed organisms. It's a reminder that while the seed holds the potential, its unfolding is intricately woven into the tapestry of its surroun...

  Twenty years ago today, this  article  was published about a surgery I performed on a two-year-old girl named Alaa, a child blinded by war. Shrapnel from an American tank shell—fired on a children’s birthday party mistaken for an insurgent gathering—killed most of her cousins and family members. It left Alaa with a torn abdomen and filled her eyes with metal fragments that would rust and poison her ocular tissue. At the time, a local law student, Ashley Severance, contacted me at my private practice, asking if I could help. The surgeon originally scheduled to remove Alaa’s eyes had backed out—fearful, in that post-9/11 era, that saving this child might be seen as aiding the enemy rather than helping a fellow human being. I knew I had to try. If it were my child, I would want someone to do everything possible. father told me, “It’s not fair that a young child will never get to see her mother again.” He was told to let her die—her...

That morning, deep in the Serengeti, as I ventured out on a walking safari to witness the great wildebeest migration, I joked with my guide that I felt the urge to "mark my territory," so that lions knew who’s king of the jungle, or in this case savannah. He laughed, and we wandered, stepping into the vast wilderness on foot. As we walked, we spotted a male lion resting with two females in the distance. My guide nudged me, saying, “Let’s go, it’s getting late.” But I had a feeling something was about to happen. “No, let’s wait a bit longer,” I said, keeping my eyes on the scene. The lions stirred. I noticed them gazing intently toward the bush in the distance, where I could see rustling through my binoculars. The male and his lead lioness got up, walking in the direction of the movement. Then, from afar, another lioness approached—likely a new member of the pride. The male without hesitation left his mate behind and lay down, waiting. And then, ...

Elon  Musk’s AI startup, announced in July 2023, claims to seek “to understand the true nature of the universe,” according to its website. While this ambition is intriguing, it mirrors a timeless quest—one that sages and philosophers, have embarked on long before Musk. Case in point, the Buddha. The paradox, however, is that the true nature of the universe cannot be understood by “trying” to understand it. The act of understanding depends on a matrix of symbols, concepts, and language—constructs of the human mind, or what is referred to in eastern metaphysics as Maya. Any search for meaning within these frameworks is inherently limited by them. Kurt Gödel demonstrated in his incompleteness theorems that no system can explain itself entirely; it can only be understood by stepping beyond it. The same applies to our conceptual descriptions and models of reality. In much the same way, to truly grasp the universe, we must transcend the conceptual systems w...

Petrichor , the enchanting earthly aroma of freshly fallen rain on dry soil ( from Ancient Greek πέτρα 'rock' or πέτρος 'stone' and ἰχώρ, the ethereal fluid that is the blood of the gods in Greek mythology ) , is a complex phenomenon. Produced by a chemical called geosmin, secreted by Streptomyces bacteria, this scent serves a fascinating purpose: attracting small arthropods. These creatures, in turn, consume the bacteria and disperse its spores, aiding in reproduction. Remarkably, humans possess an acute sensitivity to geosmin, despite our relatively weak olfactory sense. We can detect this compound in concentrations as low as 100 parts per trillion. The Japanese Buddhist concept of jijimuge , meaning "the unimpeded interpenetration of all phenomena," offers a profound lens through which to view this ephemeral experience. It encapsulates the idea of a universe interconnected without barriers, where all beings and things are inhe...