Forest Treehouses: Children's Storybook Pictures

 


An apple treehouse carved beneath a leafy tree loaded with golden-yellow apples in the midst of a flowery forest.  An ideal hangout for the bright brown tree squirrels with bushy tails to collect their favorite food.

 


👆 And my artwork capturing another vision of a forest tale. 

In the heart of a whispering forest, a treehouse stood tall, where two curious bunnies watched from their leafy windows. Down below, a snug dining room and a gentle fluffy lamb rested quietly at the entrance, while cheerful birds gathered around a tiny table outside the treehouse for a tasty treat. Wildflowers danced in the breeze, and behind it all, the forest faded softly into the mist.

Mesaharati ( مسحراتى ) – the dawn caller in Ramadan ..

 


.. a pre-dawn scene from Tripoli, Libya, in the month of Ramadan. A young and charming dawn-caller (mehsaharati) dressed traditionally walks by a house in a neighborhood under the starry sky to awaken the residents of the house for sahoor.


A Brief History of Mehsaharati:

An old and beautiful history rooted in the Islamic culture.

Mesaharati (مسحراتى) or the dawn caller is a public waker for Sahoor and the Fajr prayer during the month of Ramadan.   Sahoor is the pre-dawn meal in Ramadan before fasting begins at dawn, shortly before the start of a new day.  Traditionally, this is one of the oldest and most deep rooted customs of the blessed month of Ramadan.  It makes Ramadan more joyous for Muslims.

According to various historical reports, the first Mesaharati or drum holder was Bilal Bin Rabah, a friend of the beloved Prophet Muhammed (pbuh) in Medinah.   He walked with his drum along the streets of Medinah in pre-dawn hours to awaken believers for Sahoor. 

Mesaharati was synonymous with Ramadan similar to the decoration of Ramadan lamps.  In medieval Mecca the imam of the mosque would climb on the minaret a couple of hours before Fajr, holding a lamp (or lantern) and informing the residents of the neighborhood that the time for the Sahoor meal had arrived.  Even if the people couldn't see or hear him, they could see the light he held.  That's how the decorative custom of lamps symbolic of Ramadan came about as a tradition and exists until the present.

Back in those days, approximately three hours after Iftar and the Tarawih prayers, was the time for all Mesahratiyah  to start their Ramadan rounds in their respective neighborhoods.  It was necessary for the Mesaharati to be a healthy person as he had to walk long distances across an entire neighborhood and back.   He also needed to have a loud and clear voice.

Information coming from the ancestors of Muslims currently living in Egypt, Syria, Lebanon, Palestine and Morocco tells us that the more fascinating idea of Al-Mesaharati emerged in the era of the Fatamids in 909 A.D. when the Mesaharati used to walk the streets of Cairo holding a small tebla-like drum and tapping it with a piece of leather or wood.  He was often accompanied by his children holding a lamp to light the way so he could comfortably sing his distinctive calls.    Gradually the tradition got more interesting.  Just two hours prior to Sahoor, dressed in a jalebiya and a headcover and holding a drum in his hand, the Mesaharati woke people by mentioning their names to give a more personal touch to his voluntary assignment.  They would also sometimes give a quick knock on peoples' doors to wake them. Some years later the Mesaharati began chanting lines of spiritual songs and simultaneously beat the drum; it felt like a sweeter way of waking up the neighborhood.   Whenever the Mesaharati began their rounds, children of the neighborhood would find it exciting and rush towards the drum beater. 

"Wake up sleepers, praise Allah" called the Mesaharati as he strolled through the streets before dawn, beating his drum.   There were other attractive chants, such as “catch the good month before it goes away!”    Other well-known phrases often chanted by the Mesaharati: “Sabbahak Allah bil ridha wa alnaeem” (May Allah wake you with satisfaction and bliss) and “Ya nayem wahhid Aldayem” (Sleeping, praise the Permanent Allah).

Unlike nowadays when Muslims often spend hours watching television, using their laptops or texting on their cell phones after Tarawih, in the early years of Islam they slept soon after the Tarawih prayers.  With no alarm clocks to awaken them at pre-dawn, the Mesaharati’s presence was a  necessity otherwise many would oversleep and miss Sahoor.  But knowing that the Mesaharati would be there at the right time, they would sleep soundly without any worries. The Mesaharati would stand under the balcony of each house for a few minutes.  Some neighbors would gladly express their gratitude from the balcony or the window.

The Mesaharati's job was voluntary, out of kindness of their hearts, with no assured payments.   But the people always paid him something.  When the blessed month of Ramadan came to an end and the celebrations of Eid Al-Fitr began, the Mesaharati received gifts of money and food from people as a gesture of thanks for his services during the blessed month.

Their voluntary task was considered one of the most prestigious in all medieval Muslim societies, having the same status as the “omdah” or mayor of the city.  In some families it was an inherited profession and the drums they carried were passed on from great-grandparents to their descendants. 

Traditionally, Mesahratiyah are usually men.    But in modern times, women too volunteer for this interesting job in the blessed month.  The most recent story of a lady Mesaharati is that of Dalal Abdel Kader who belongs to a humble middle-class family of Cairo.  She opted for it on the footsteps of her two late brothers who were very popular Mesahratiyah of their neighborhoods.  Dalal recalls the evening when one of her brothers stepped out for the first time as a Mesaharati, wearing his best clothes and perfume.  She carries the same drum that belonged to him and tearfully remembers the beautiful spiritual songs he sung in praise of The Almighty.

It's understandable for residents of every neighborhood to feel they need to know and trust the man to allow him to walk their streets late at night.  But back in those days life was different mainly because of the aspect of trust.  The rate of street crimes was next to zero.  Everyone in every neighborhood trusted the other.  They felt safe walking the streets after dark.  Each neighbor could count on the help of another, if needed.  Residents of some neighborhoods invited the Mesaharati inside their homes to eat Sahoor with them.  In Syria every Mesaharati had strong connections with their neighborhood. People trusted him to deliver food and money to those whom they knew were in need.   

The only security risk were stray dogs; rarely some behaved aggressively.   The stick which the Mesaharati carried for his drum was sometimes used to scare away barking dogs with hand swinging gestures.  That's as far as safety concerns went.

Unfortunately the need for a Mesaharati has gradually declined since the past half a century primarily because of technology - alarm clocks, radios, televisions, cell phone alarms.  Construction of highrise residential apartments in developing cities and the use of air conditioners have made it harder to hear the Mesaharati’s voice.   Their voices were so clearly audible in medieval times as they walked by small homes of close-knit neighborhoods.   Moreover, in sprawling over-crowded modern cities with high crime rates and unruly traffic, the Mesaharati often fears for their safety, that they may not be able to walk the busy streets without being harmed.

In modern Pakistan for instance, few would even know the definition of the term “Mesaharati.”  They simply refer to the dawn caller as the "dhol wala" (the drum guy) who are unknown members of the community, neither trusted nor respected.  Some are even treated with disdain, viewed as greedy volunteers which unfortunately is true about several of them.  They show up for a short while on just a few nights of the entire month but assertively demand money for the whole month during Eid-al-Fitr.  Most neighbors are unwilling to pay them. 

That’s how much times have changed!   

But despite the changing times, in the northern Arab world and Iran, the Mehsaharati remains an inseparable part of the blessed month of Ramadan.

From Muslim Villa.

Pencil sketch effect. In the serene desert neighborhood of 9th-century Al-Medinah


 

A century after the passing of the beloved Prophet (pbuh), the day unfolds in a gentle rhythm beginning with soft daylight bathing the earthen homes and palm-lined paths in a warm, amber hue. The flat-roofed stone and mud houses, with a door and modest windows, glow quietly under the filtered sun, their textures softened by the dusty air. A winding sandy road meanders through the town, curving past the central Mosque whose dome and minaret rise with quiet dignity against the backdrop of distant hills. As twilight descends, the golden tones fade into deep indigo, and lanterns flicker to life within the homes, casting warm halos through the windows. The sky above turns dark blue scattered with stars and a fine crescent moon. The mosque remains a luminous anchor in the hush of evening.