Nothing can give you greater pleasure than watching a seagull in mid-flight as it flaps its wings ever so gently, gracefully in the most romantic manner, just a few feet away from you. The Seagull goes on to glide over a clear, green, transparent ocean( and you see the fish inside) on a bright, hot afternoon. Cool. Freedom is accentuated by birds and envied by humans. ‘As free as a bird’ would make a handy cliché. Strangely, it reminds me of a peacock on a misty morning in Rajastan just a hand away dancing, leaping, flying.
Freedom and travel are highs, which elevate you beyond spirits or drugs. The Dubai creek has exactly stood where it is for centuries with small markets (souks) on either side, where the locals resided and sold spice, water, fruits to pilgrims who stop-gapped their way to Mecca, Saudi Arabia. The creek divides Dubai into Deira and Bur (the other side) Dubai. Deira is more cosmopolitan and Bur Dubai is India. Shit I just don’t seem to lose my countrymen, no matter where I go.
Dubai is just another international city with well-constructed and very contemporary architecture, with parks in their proper places and between roads, with tasty Lebanese restaurants on the roads, pollution free, non stinking and noise resistant. The Police are handling the law and order without much corruption. Looks-wise, it’s like Bangkok. I guess Bangkok got rich on Arabic money. Dubai is the least Islamic province in the Middle East. If you get pork and wine (which is haraaam in Islam) it’s an absolute wonder. Pig is the ultimate sacrilege in the least of un-holiness. Yeah, Dubai is nice with its sprawling malls, ice-rings for skating, swimming pools, discos and those super discount during the colourful light and crackers Dubai Shopping Festival. But as soon as I think of going overboard, I remember the bloke in the customs in India, where corruption is an established pride. What a shame!
The Jumeira Beach is beautiful and rather baywatch-ian. The winter is just departing, leaving the mist for a hotter steamy and humid summer. As I walk on the creek side I see a few losers, sitting and staring at the sea. The losers sit and stare, while the winners travel in BMWs, cultivate artificial accents, go to discos and listen to music they don’t understand, visit Russian whores, celebrate AIDS with their wife and family. Oh the jetsetters!
Sharjah is bigger than Dubai and Fujeira is a rugged mountain trail all the way to Sultanate of Oman with rich red sand desert in between. I’m told that the redness of the soil is a good predictor of oil content. Ajman is a free port so drinkers can buy duplicate wines. I’m yet to visit the Krishna Temple, the museum, the gold shouk, Heritage village, Sharjah and bits and parts here and there. I’m yet to say hi to the Filipino who stays bang opposite my house, the one with amazing legs.
The radio FM is strong here with a million Arabic channels, three English and two Hindi channels, which are actually better than the one back home. Which is not saying much anyway. Arabic is spoken in over a dozen and a half countries. Try Yemen, Oman, Saudia, Sudan, Iran, Iraq, Egypt, Lebanon and some parts of Kerala. Global village is a fair with all the countries participating with life size tourist attractions of their country. Kuwaiti forts, Chinese houses, Red Indian wigwams, Charminar etc. It’s massive. Dubai is nice.
I heard Bombay is trying to hold a Shopping Festival. That could pose a few minor problems. Where will the travellers stay? How will the beggars suck the life out of them? And more importantly, where will the Biharis and the UPites shit?
