I have in the past jokingly dubbed Ishraq Uz Zaman as “Carl Sagan.” The reason is obvious - it is his passion, interest, and study of the cosmos, space, the universe, and all the enigmas involved. When we see a star, we see a beautiful sparkler in the night sky - Ishraq sees all the complexity of its construct, along with its wondrous appearance. So it was not too much of a surprise when he came up with his latest book, “The Human in Us - Hindsights, Foresights and Insights.”
Interestingly enough, the foreword written by Professor Dipen Bhattacharya of Moreno Valley College, California, starts with a quote from Carl Sagan himself: “The cosmos is within us. We are made of star stuff. We are a way for the universe to know itself.”
We live in such a fast-paced world today, with AI pressing down on the accelerator of advancement. The author points out at the outset of the book that we have been progressing, at first step by step, and then in leaps and bounds, from the “chugging steam engines” to Maglev trains, from the “floundering flight” at Kitty Hawk to the “sleek, screaming, supersonic needle that almost pierces the sky.”
But the most pivotal question he poses is the one that inevitably revolves in our minds — where will it all end? He has no answer, but comes up with another set of questions, will mankind possess the expertise, ingenuity, or even the courage to step across the mystic barrier that separates reality from fiction? Or will the laws of physics, astrophysics, molecular biology, chemistry, and genetics close the door on us? In seeking answers to such enigmatic questions, the writer refers to the classic and popular sci-fi genre, with examples of The Time Machine, The Invisible Man, War of the Worlds, and of course, Star Trek.
He then goes a bit deeper into more intriguing issues of whether man can ever dare to tinker with the idea of immortality. This raises complex theological and scientific questions, and the author steers away from the complex topic of spiritual immortality and instead ponders the postponement of physical death.
From the very first chapter, we find a rather philosophical Ishraq Uz Zaman, so should we say a philosophical scientist, or maybe a scientific philosopher? Does he refer to himself when he writes, “Almost like a mad chemist in the laboratory of incredible experiments,” someone pushing the boundaries of physical norms?
No, he is not the clichéd mad scientist. He is simply passionate about the universe and all the mysteries that abound, some tangible and some not.
He starts the second chapter with the observation that “Mankind’s love affair with the stars is as old as antiquity.” And he carries on this histoire d’amour.
He promotes a war of a different kind: war against disease, hunger, and pestilence. Being both a soldier and a physician in his long career (now settled in Canada), he is aware of both such wars and has chosen the medical profession to serve mankind to the best of his ability.
It’s not just the stars, but the wonders on Earth that inexorably arouse Ishraq Uz Zaman’s curiosity. He delves into the mysteries of the Pyramids of Giza, Stonehenge, the Great Wall of China, the Colosseum, Machu Picchu, and more. He mentions the Taj Mahal too, and as a reader I felt perhaps he could have included the Holy Kaaba, which is so steeped in history, spirituality, and architecture. This large structure around which millions circumambulate every year during Hajj surely deserved special mention.
Ishraq Uz Zaman is a realist. He does not merely gaze in wonder all around. He also looks in horror at the brutality and violence that has continued down the ages - wars, the Hiroshima horror, the My Lai massacre, and more. He promotes a war of a different kind: war against disease, hunger, and pestilence. Being both a soldier and a physician in his long career (now settled in Canada), he is aware of both such wars and has chosen the medical profession to serve mankind to the best of his ability - a quiet war he wages against sickness and ill-health.
Coming to recent times, he naturally arrives at AI, the technology that imitates human cognitive functions by analysing data, solving problems, making recommendations, and learning from experience. AI, as we know, is a source of both hope and trepidation, and he writes, “This is where mankind will be stepping on eggshells and not allowing ethical transgressions of privacy, non-discrimination, bias, fairness, human rights, etc.” But do people today use AI with such discretion? The author writes, “We can choose to either let Artificial Intelligence be the harbinger of good tidings or be an Armageddon.”
“Reach for the Stars,” the author beckons us in Chapter Four, sweeping us from the time when prehistoric man gazed in wonder at the night sky to the time when Yuri Gagarin ventured into outer space.
This book seems to be all the more relevant when space travel is no longer confined to NASA and Russian cosmonauts, but seems to be on the verge of a new tourism venture. Are we going to give our kids a choice: “Where would you like to go this summer, St Martin’s? Madrid? The Moon? Mars?”
We may not be quite there yet, but Ishraq Uz Zaman has given us the will to believe in such a future. Nothing is impossible, this book seems to say.
At this point, I must point to a difference between Sagan and Zaman. The former was a professed atheist, but the latter is not. He writes, “I would like to think that the supernatural or divine power (or God, if you will) to whom is due the primal origin of the heavens and earth and the laws eternal and divine therein, also reserves the power to refute any of them as he does wish.” He quotes from the Holy Quran: “To Him belongs the keys of the heavens and the earth; He enlarges and restricts sustenance to whom He will; for He knows full well all things.” (Surah Ash-Shura, Verse 12).
As he draws to the end of the book, the author writes, “We believe only what we know. And what we know is limited by the confines of our current concepts and conventions. We do not know what lies beyond the grasp and power of our comprehension and the extent of our knowledge.”
This seems to echo the words of Bertrand Russell: “The more you learn, the more you realise how little you know.”
(The book, published by appl, can be ordered at rokomari.com)