Editorial Health & Fitness Humour Book Review Short Story Travel Reflections Guest Column Prev Issue Next Issue

Part I

Lahore is always in full bloom as the month of December approaches. The city is decorated like a dulhan since it's usually the most popular season to tie a knot. I had four family weddings within two weeks during last December. It was a long flight from NY with 3 layovers before I reached Lahore. I had kept the following verses in the back of my mind "Chalae'Toa Kut Hee Jayae Ga Safar" [The journey will finally end, once started]

JFK was very crowded. The Xmas spirit was in the air and exuding from the faces of the travelers. The combination of green and red added to the warmth of the airport, despite the six inches of snow outside. After getting my bags checked in, I approached the security desks at the departure gate. I had a duffle bag full of my travel readings on my shoulder and a decent sized purse in my hands. Suddenly, I felt someone in very close proximity as I reached the security point. I did not want to bother looking back but as I placed both bags at the belt, a huge fellow tried to cut the line and go ahead of me. He was behind me and had no luggage except for his briefcase in his hand. I stopped and looked back as we reached the last security check and found him trying to get ahead again. "I was ahead of you so you need to wait till I am done" I said in a firm tone. Still the guy did not get it. He again tried to keep very little distance and then I was not in my pleasant mood.

"You are being slow." He said in a rude tone. "No. I am not being slow. You are being rude and are having a hard time being patient and observing a line" I remarked. Both of us were heading towards the same AA flight. He was in his running suit and had a brief case in his hand. With his sharp and distinct middle-eastern features, bikhrae hooae'[scattered] curly hair, and a very rude expression, he proceeded hurriedly towards the gate.

Well, the flight was to depart from JFK at 9:30 p.m. and I was at the gate an hour prior to the departure, but something very weird took place. Once the passengers started boarding, an announcement was made. The flight got canceled for some unknown reasons. Within a few minutes, another announcement was made that AA had many other planes on the ground and the airline would be preparing a new plane for departure in another hour or so. Everyone had a confused expression not knowing what may happen next. It was not due to the weather condition. The crew had caused this sudden change. The flight attendants at the main gate were very polite to all the passengers' queries and were equally astonished at the last minute change. While the new plane was being prepared for the long flight, I spent my next hour or so, wishing all friends and family a Happy Eid and Merry XMas.

My first stop was Paris. Paris has three international airports and my plane landed at one of them, Charles Dubois Airport. It was a rainy day and one could see the bad roads from the airport's windows. I could not find any monitor for miles. Luckily, after half an hour or so, I located a few screens and was able to find my next flight and its departure gate. My departing flight was to leave from terminal 1. I saw many buses passing by; but could not leave the waiting lounge. I sat there in bewilderment wondering why I was stuck there. Suddenly I heard a very crisp English accent, "You will have to wait till the bus for terminal 1 comes; only then the door will open. Each gate has a designated shuttle bus. " I could not express my joy upon hearing a familiar English accent. He was a tall African guy who spoke very calmly as if he knew the ins and outs of the area pretty well. Thanks to the flight information monitors and the considerate guy who informed me about my shuttle. As soon as I saw the shuttle for terminal 1, I approached the door again and the gates opened up. This was like Ali Baba's "Open Sim Sim." This was the first time in the past 1 hour or so since I had landed that I could inhale the fresh air. The shuttle had a few young men and women. I came across a few Muslim faces with proper hijab; both of them were traveling alone.

As I got down and approached the gate for my connecting flight to Dubai, I found many Indian and Pakistani faces around me. By now, I was very tired walking around with my duffel bag. I promised myself never to carry so many books in my shoulder bag. I took out my most important possession, "Awakening to the Sacred" by Lama Surya Das. At the Emirates counter, I requested the staff to check in my handbag before my shoulders say goodbye to my body. The staff happily obliged. After a few minutes, we started boarding the plane. I was seated next to a sweet young lady, R. We introduced ourselves as we exchanged some pleasantries. Turned out that she was from Hyderabad, India and was studying in the US for her Masters. We exchanged views and talked about many things related to women engineers and technologists, since that was something common in our backgrounds. It was a very nice flight. R and I exchanged our email addresses before our journey ended.

My next stop was Dubai. At Dubai Airport, it was very pleasant to find many Muslim Women at the immigration and visa desks donned in black garbs. This was my first visit to Dubai - a huge airport with unending walkways. Finally, after getting the necessary stamps, I left the airport. My next flight to Lahore was after almost 10 hours or so and I was to stay at Dubai overnight. I realized that R was in the same boat. She also had an overnight stay. We decided to hang out together. The first thing I wanted to do was to find a nice cafééé at the airport. The airport was full of Arab men in long garbs with white scarves. This was all very new for me since I have never been to any middle-eastern country and had only seen these garbs on TV or in movies. Finally, we found a caféé that was open late at night. I got myself some coffee and chicken samosas. I asked the server twice about the chicken and was curtly informed "Of course, it is halal!"

As we left the airport, it was very late in the morning. The attendant -a Pakistani, who was checking our assigned hotel's information, told us that the hotel was all booked and he would need to find us another one. As he looked at my Pakistani Passport, he upgraded my hotel and routed me to a shuttle. R was with me, so he put her with me in the same hotel as well. The second surprise welcomed us as we got out of the shuttle. Everyone at the front desk spoke very clear Urdu. A pleasant surprise! I was still mentally in the US and was having hard time grasping that why in the world would people in Dubai speak Urdu right and left? I guess I needed to upgrade my general knowledge on Dubai and the languages spoken there. R and I went to our respective rooms and decided to meet up in the morning to go explore the city.

I woke up pretty late next morning and rushed to get some breakfast. The servers were very polite. Despite the fact that I was real late, they insisted on my having the breakfast in the dining room. The coffee was excellent. Later on, R and I checked out one of local malls, City Center. The only worth mentioning point at the Mall was another nice caféé with excellent cappuccino. Rest was pretty disappointing. I do not know if it was the culture, the language, the surroundings or an unknown factor beyond my grasp.

As we took a cab back to the hotel, it turned out that our driver was from Peshawar. I started exchanging notes with him on Pakistanis in Dubai and his views on the results of the recent elections in Pakistan, mainly in NWFP.

"Majboori hae, iss leeyae loag idhur aa'tae haen. Peshawar main opportunities naheen milteeN [People move here due to their circumstances since they cannot find opportunities in Peshawar]" He commented in a pensive mood.

"Even educated people like to explore better opportunities all over the world and then migrate" I commented.

"Why would you opt for the word, "majboori[circumstances]"?" I further interrogated.

"You are right" He smiled "But, I said "majboori" since I am away from my home and family" He responded.

"Still, it only takes you 2.5 - 3 hours to reach Pakistan" I insisted.

By this time, we had already approached our hotel. Now, we started discussing the results of the recent elections in NWFP.

"Are you a Pashtoon?" I inquired.

"Yes, I am." He said.

"How do you feel about the Pashtoons from Afghanistan?

Would you support them after what they have been doing in Afghanistan?" I inquired.

"They are very different from us. Also, we are not from the same tribe. And, we want those from Afghanistan to go back to their homeland. We do not want them to stay in our homeland." He uttered vehemently in one breath.

Continues...

View and Post comment on this article