From Inanna to Bibi Rajni
From Inanna to Bibi Rajni: Why the Sidr Tree Refuses to Disappear from Human Memory I grew up in Baghdad, in a neighborhood where war and uncertainty were part of daily life, but so were trees. Among them stood the sidr tree: thorny, resilient, quietly generous. Its fruits were sweet, its leaves medicinal, and its presence respected. We didn't worship it. We knew it mattered. Years later, while studying pharmaceutical sciences in India, I reencountered the same kind of tree, this time called ber. I saw pilgrims gathering near a single jujube tree at the Golden Temple in Amritsar, seeking healing beside water. Around the same time, I was reading Islamic texts describing the Sidrat al-Muntaha, the lote tree marking the boundary of created knowledge. That convergence stayed with me. Why does this particular tree keep returning, across religions, cultures, and thousands of years? A Tree Older Than Our Divisions Across Mesopotamia, Egypt, the Levant, Arabia, India, and P...