Finally, my last days in UAE had arrived. Contrary to the usual, there wasn’t even a hint of nostalgia in those days. The reasons could’ve been many – I was sure about coming back to Dubai at some point in time, I didn’t feel attached to Dubai at all or I was still going to spend my time with the same set of people. But the truth remained that I didn’t feel anything that people usually feel at the time of leaving a place where they’ve spent some of the most useful time of their lives.
(If at any point of time you feel that the story is too long, skip the following 3 paragraphs.)
Anyways, we decided to roam about UAE to the max before we actually left it, atleast for some time. We – me, Chib, Raghuvir and Ali – planned to visit one of the most beautiful places in UAE, Fujairah. (Fujairah is one of the seven emirates of UAE that gets a lot of revenues from tourism.) Somehow, a car was arranged whose AC actually worked and we set our sails off for Fujairah, on the path told to us by a “wise-man”. Passing through the deserts of the Sahara, we saw the camels, the sand and the sheikhs, all en route. Then came the unexpected guests of the day, the mountains. They were big and huge and long and we loved them.
In the end, we finally reached our destination – the Fujairah beach. As a Bollywood song says, “manzil se behtar lagne lage hain raaste…”, we felt the same after reaching Fujairah. The way to reach Fujairah was so very beautiful that the beach seemed just-another-place and we didn’t feel like having a dip in the ocean, there. So, we decided to move on in our journey.
We reached an old mosque, Al Bidya Mosque – the 15th century mosque that was made of mud and has stood the test of the times. The serenity of the place was worth visiting once in the lifetime. It was calm like an ocean. The watch towers that stood atop the mosque were even more beautiful. They gave us a full view of the ocean on one side and the date farms on the other.
Then we went to another beach where we were frightened by the crabs running everywhere. Chib and Raghav especially, were very alarmed and didn’t go even near the water. Our journey back to Dubai had already begun when we were on crossroads (literally) to take a left turn to the Masafi hills or go straight to Dubai.
And that’s where the twist happened. They say that the destiny is controlled by some super-natural power who some people call as God. That day something similar happened. If you noticed, I never mentioned that we stopped anywhere for food and that was precisely the truth. We didn’t have anything for food since morning and were feeling really hungry. But we decided to see the masafi hills and then return to Dubai. But after moving around 2 kilometers left, we realized that the mountains were no different from the ones that we saw on our way to Fujairah. So, we took a U-turn back to Dubai.
After 10-15 minutes when our hunger reached close to a starving stage, we saw a pathan cooking a huge roti on a drum. With not even a thought to have a piece, we just stopped to take some pictures of that roti. The pathan turned very happy when we approached him and was glad to have us click some pictures of him and his grand roti. We were just about to move when he offered, “roti khayega nahi?” (Won’t you have the bread?) Out of courtesy, we refused to have some, but his face turned sad and he said, “achchha nahi laga?” (Didn’t you like it?) We couldn’t stand his face and he tore off a large part of his roti and shared it with us. Amazingly, that small share from the piece of roti made my hunger just disappear.
We couldn’t believe what had happened to us just a while ago. Four people – 3 Indians and a Pakistani – met in Dubai, went on a trip to Fujairah, returned via Dibbi, reached just in time to see an unknown pathan cooking a roti and have it to contend ourselves. We were amazed and astonished. And we thought whether that supernatural power had sent us all to this place just because someone owed some small thing to us and this was his last chance to pay us back. Or maybe He wanted us four to be indebted by this pathan’s soul for coming births as a part of the bigger plan.
Anything could be the reason but one thing’s for sure: “daane daane pe likkha hai khane wale ka naam.” (Every grain is destined to be eaten by the person whose name it bears.) And Ali bhayi had to say, “mera safar safal ho gaya.” (My journey has been successful.) J