33 years is a long time. Especially when you are 42.
When we left Dubai for Mumbai it was such a harrowing
experience. From a large well protected cocoon to a crazy place of nothing. I
wondered if I would ever go back and if ever on what terms. Would I get a job
to live back there or visit as a tourist or for any other reason? I remember
air travel was such a luxury and the cost of the tickets extremely prohibitive.
We never again went by air travel within the country itself, forget going out
of the country. It was something that never happened.
Over the years, definitely air travel became more
affordable. If I remember right, the prices have fundamentally remained at the same
absolute rate even after twenty-thirty years making the trip very affordable,
but somehow Dubai always eluded me. With the markets doing well and I am back
at my old broking company, when the offsite was announced for Dubai, I smiled
to myself. I going home after 33 years. Wow. I was a little 9 year old boy when
left Dubai for India. Now I would be going back on official business as a
senior executive. Hah!
I am not going to talk about how Dubai has changed. Of course
it has. It’s got shit load of wealth and it’s a city that decided to make its
income from tourism and construction. Of course it a mad place. Its got some
crazy large structures with massive buildings. In fact it’s got the tallest
building in the world on top a massive mall. Dubai super sizes everything. Of
course it’s changed and I couldn’t recognize anything on the way to the hotel
till I saw the World trade Centre building. It was the building that was the
tallest at its time. I remember going there with family just to see the building
and having an outing around it. We posed for photos around the place. It was 30
odd stories high. Now that building looks like a pygmy with 60 storied
buildings everywhere, making me lose a sense of perspective.
We shopped and hopped around Dubai till we had a chance to
do a desert safari in the big Toyota SUVs. Those guys took us on the dunes, or
as they say, bashing the dunes and skid on them etc. It was fun till one of the
cars had a bit of tyre trouble and all the cars just had to park around to help
him, in the idle of the desert. That’s when eth real fun started. People
climbed on top of the dunes to pose for photos and jump around. That’s when I remembered
my childhood. I was on top and the guys were climbing up when I saw this sweet
round colleague of mine trying to climb up. I ran down towards him and took him
to the ground. Then I ran after another and threw him down. Ad they posed for
photos I threw a few more. Soon a few more joined in and it was complete chaos
and I felt like a 6 year old all over again. Going up the sand dunes and
rolling down with someone. We were full of sand and it was crazy ass fun. The guys
who joined in had a whale of a time as well. I grew up to this – playing with gay
abandon in the sand or rush into the water in the beach. That’s awesome fun.
Before coming back, I got a chance to catch with an old
friend from Dubai. Our families were the best of friends and we grew up
together while we were there. I asked him, if he could take me to my old house
in Diera. He asked his dad for the exact directions and as we were reaching
there, we were just looking around my building. It was a distinctive building
as I remember that we had a long corner balcony connecting all the rooms. As my
friend showed me the police station which I knew was nearby, I told him take a
right here and there – that’s it. That’s my building.
After 33 years you get to see your home which gave you so
much joy and fun and pride. It was a nice sweet quiet emotional moment for me. It
was a large house with two bedrooms, a dining room, two halls and a kitchen.
And the long balcony. We were on the third floor and seeing it was something
special. Who knew under what circumstances one would have seen the house. It looked
smaller than what I had memories of and the distances across the road seemed
small. It’s because I was only a tiny boy of 9 and everything in perspective
would have been big. Now it looks smaller.
As we were there all the memories kept flooding back. Three kids
in our bedroom. In our respective beds jumping and playing. Running in the hall
and balcony. Dad vacuuming the carpet on Sundays. Keeping the AC on every day
and running around. Playing cricket in the car parking lot and playing cricket
eth Pakistani boys who made a ball out of wrapping an induction tape around itself.
I so wanted to go up and see the place. It’s a good thing we didn’t have time.
BTW – Jispa asked for stroop waffles and Pofaki from Dubai. She
never asks for much and so for her I got 72 Stroopwaffles and 25 packs of
Pofaki. Jasmine thought that I was over doing it. Hah! Of course. I am dad. It’s my job to over do it.
