Good Morning, Dubai!-2

The first trip on Sunday was to Dubai World Trade Centre. Massive set up. Abdul parks his Toyota in the multi level parking lot – 6th or 7th floor! Really an uphill task! He has come to meet up with a government dignitary, who would be inaugurating an expo in the WTC. We get Media accreditation meanwhile and drink free coffee in the Registration arena. There are more than dozen exhibition halls on the ground level and out of which only two are hosting something or other. So, the huge set up presents an empty look! You’ve guessed it right: empty is the theme. The dignitary arrives on dot, cuts ribbon and we join the small crowd whom video/still cameramen shoot with and without flash. Will we appear in the next day’s paper, don’t know. Friend shakes hand and exchange Arab style greetings. We go along for a short distance and quietly withdraw to move elsewhere. At the other venue in the same premises, another senior government is scheduled to have opened another expo at 10.30 a.m. But the wrist watch shows 11.15 a.m. and no sign of him/her. But there are visitors and participants inside the hall. An eager organization crowd awaits the arrival of the dignitary. We move into the coffee shop to drink our cuppa. Losing patience, we scoot out.

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Our next halt is another majestic hotel where over lemon slice-dipped diet coke and Turkish coffee (for my colleague-cum-friend), we continue our ‘dubai-gone-to-dhobi’ kind of talk. Greed is the single factor that emerges as the main reason for Dubai going overboard and snuffing out enthusiasm and driving away hordes of expats out to save their respective skins. After an hour, we move to the 26th floor restaurant for buffet lunch. Yes, it is empty except for the three of us. It was the same place, my friend tells me, where you have to wait for a minimum of an hour in the atrium to get a seat! The Thai staff greet us and allow us to pick our choice of seat. We are literally confused because every seat appears comfy and vacant as well. Who choice is a good thing? Lunch over, scoot out to Dubai Media City some serious work. Parking is easy which was unimaginable during my last trip to the same spot. Of course, it was two years ago! As I walk through the corridors of DMC, most offices are shut and learn that many have ceased to operate.

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Around 6.30 p.m., we pack up and drive down to Zayed Road and friend suggests a coffee-shisha round on the main thoroughfare. He could not locate his favourite haunt and so we park near Sheraton and walk down. Restaurant after restaurant sports vacant look. Not a single soul inside restaurants. Remember it is 7 p.m. on a weekday! And that too in the main business district. I wonder what friend Matein Khalid might be doing at this hour in his office. Today being Sunday, world market would have been closed though for Dubai it is the first working weekday. Again the choice plays tricks. We were unable to decide where to shisha-n-sip. Barring us (two), there is a sole Emirati in the corner smoking his special stuff. Service is quick and fast. Over a strawberry laced mocktail, I look across to watch the moving traffic. Not that roads are empty. But the number of whizzing vehicles is on the lower side. Of course, you simply cannot jump across the divider and cross the road. No way. Single and double-decker buses are half-filled. I notice a few passengers waiting at the aesthetically structured bus shelters. Reminded of IPL dugouts. Except the frontal glass door and possibly airconditioned, given local climatic conditions.

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I would have easily walked 5 kilometres up and down at World Trade Centre and near Zayed Road unknowingly. Not including my routine morning walks. Construction workers are nowhere in sight. Buildings that are nearing completion have slowed down because nobody is sure whether they will be able to let them out or sell. Why hurry? Friend suggests that property owners should come to the rescue to restaurateurs and help them by reducing rents or helping them in some way or other. Kind hearted soul!

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I am dropped home. No TV. Don’t feel like eating. Feel like calling home, but give it up. Let me SMS tomorrow morning to greet my wife: it will be our 28th wedding day. I write the message for her and store it for delivery on Monday morning. During the day, by mistake, I had pressed ‘web’ on my mobile and it has eaten away 5 dirham unnecessarily. Every dirham counts, buddy in crises. I pick up Robert Frost’s collection of verses to engage my mind. No way. I give it up. Switch off lights and get in the warm clutches of Madame Sleep! Good night! Insha Allah!