Heard of Mirbat (pronounced Mirba – ‘t’ silent) on the southern part of Salalah? It is a fishing hamlet with a few hundred houses – some old and some new. Beautiful beach. Young Omanis hobbling on the beachfront: some snorkeling with requisite gear. Some loitering on the streets. Urchins in colourful costume running around with full of joy and mirth, celebrating the Eid-ul-Fitr. That was the time we landed at Mirabat.
With the Dubai-published Explorer Oman in hand, lensman Rajesh Burman and Jayshankar Menon and Balagopalan at the wheels, we navigated the 70 odd kilometers from Salalah at a leisurely pace. Sporting Bermudas and T-shirts and tummy full of plain dosas for breakfast (what do you expect when four south Indians come together on a picnic?), we drove on the spotless (spick and span!) Salalah roads.
“Stop, stop.. There is a camel” cry from Rajesh would force Bala to halt the vehicle (Don’t worry the Echo was in fine fettle!) on the roadside. The short photographer would gingerly step out and venture out with his heavy camera bag kit (must be 10 kg plus! I know it because I carried it for a short while.) A lot of camels ‘posed’ like models – with greater patience than the human models whom he captures for Al Mara – sending Rajesh into raptures. “Saar! What a shot!” he would exclaim after clicking furiously.
Rock formations on the seafront and the death-defying heights would curdle the vertigo-hit Jay. Much to everyone’s discomfort, Rajesh would climb down boulders and rocks to get a ‘fresh angle’.
No sooner we hit Mirabat (last year, I had been there with Abhijit (Sinha), Deepak (Balakrishnan) and Akshay, but did not enter the village. Instead, we sped to another fishing village – 40 km away where we were told every house has an internet connection, forcing the local cybercafé to shut down!), Rajesh jumped out to shoot ‘ruins’. Later we learnt that those buildings collapsed due to Cyclone Gonu’s father(!) Nonu. When and how it happened? we could not elicit better info.
As we were about to exit out of Mirabat after shooting a snorkeling team, local healthcare centre, young men relaxing on the veranda of local Mosque, suddenly we saw a lot of activity on the beachfront and turned back to check out.
It was a wharf where boats have come back from the high seas. Sharks were aplenty – oozing with blood and absolutely fresh! Never ever have I gone near a fish in my lifetime. The stench was unbearable. The Palghat Brahmin Jay was feeling uncomfortable. The entire crew and helpers were from – wherelse but from our own Indian state of Kerala! Malayalam was the lingua franqua. Jay and Rajesh got into conversation and a ‘running commentary’ was on. These fishermen hailed from Calicut and living in Oman for three generations with no ‘papers’ – read no resident/employment visa!
Rajesh, as usual, was in his elements capturing the mood and spell of the sharkdom. Young boys began to speak to Rajesh in English – broken of course – and gave pose to him. Did I have to say that our man did the rest!
Each shark would have weighted nothing less than 500 kg. We took turns to get ourselves shot with sharks in the foreground. These sharks were to ported to Dubai from it would head for the global markets. We were told that the fins would fetch more Rials than the rest of the body. ‘It was a bonus,” is how Jay put it as we headed out of the wharf for our next experience.
What’s that? Wait till the next dispatch.
Cheers
With the Dubai-published Explorer Oman in hand, lensman Rajesh Burman and Jayshankar Menon and Balagopalan at the wheels, we navigated the 70 odd kilometers from Salalah at a leisurely pace. Sporting Bermudas and T-shirts and tummy full of plain dosas for breakfast (what do you expect when four south Indians come together on a picnic?), we drove on the spotless (spick and span!) Salalah roads.
“Stop, stop.. There is a camel” cry from Rajesh would force Bala to halt the vehicle (Don’t worry the Echo was in fine fettle!) on the roadside. The short photographer would gingerly step out and venture out with his heavy camera bag kit (must be 10 kg plus! I know it because I carried it for a short while.) A lot of camels ‘posed’ like models – with greater patience than the human models whom he captures for Al Mara – sending Rajesh into raptures. “Saar! What a shot!” he would exclaim after clicking furiously.
Rock formations on the seafront and the death-defying heights would curdle the vertigo-hit Jay. Much to everyone’s discomfort, Rajesh would climb down boulders and rocks to get a ‘fresh angle’.
No sooner we hit Mirabat (last year, I had been there with Abhijit (Sinha), Deepak (Balakrishnan) and Akshay, but did not enter the village. Instead, we sped to another fishing village – 40 km away where we were told every house has an internet connection, forcing the local cybercafé to shut down!), Rajesh jumped out to shoot ‘ruins’. Later we learnt that those buildings collapsed due to Cyclone Gonu’s father(!) Nonu. When and how it happened? we could not elicit better info.
As we were about to exit out of Mirabat after shooting a snorkeling team, local healthcare centre, young men relaxing on the veranda of local Mosque, suddenly we saw a lot of activity on the beachfront and turned back to check out.
It was a wharf where boats have come back from the high seas. Sharks were aplenty – oozing with blood and absolutely fresh! Never ever have I gone near a fish in my lifetime. The stench was unbearable. The Palghat Brahmin Jay was feeling uncomfortable. The entire crew and helpers were from – wherelse but from our own Indian state of Kerala! Malayalam was the lingua franqua. Jay and Rajesh got into conversation and a ‘running commentary’ was on. These fishermen hailed from Calicut and living in Oman for three generations with no ‘papers’ – read no resident/employment visa!
Rajesh, as usual, was in his elements capturing the mood and spell of the sharkdom. Young boys began to speak to Rajesh in English – broken of course – and gave pose to him. Did I have to say that our man did the rest!
Each shark would have weighted nothing less than 500 kg. We took turns to get ourselves shot with sharks in the foreground. These sharks were to ported to Dubai from it would head for the global markets. We were told that the fins would fetch more Rials than the rest of the body. ‘It was a bonus,” is how Jay put it as we headed out of the wharf for our next experience.
What’s that? Wait till the next dispatch.
Cheers
