bloody, lazy monday

Sharjah airport...After a four hour flight where as true Indians, me and 130 odd passengers expertly frustrated all attempts of stewardesses for donating, buying, renting or in any way reaching down to our wallets for anything close to money, I was finally here. The UAE.

Why did those two words merit a sentence; well one reason could be that its been my only and thus favorite holiday spot for the last decade, more importantly it could be because its one strange, funny place...

The worst thing UAE does is that it totally misguides you in the beginning...Once you enter the airport, most of the security, passport control and immigration officials are locals and there is a lot of arabic in the air and on the sign boards...False start...See UAE is this dry and rich kerala where instead of coconut trees you have petrol pumps, instead of autos you have toyotas and instead of the CPI(M) you have productive employment.

But the core remains the same...malyalis in all shapes and sizes With the addition of migrants from tamil nadu, north India, arabs from the assorted countries on the great arab peninsula and miscellanious firangs who couldnt make it in their own country.

However it is kerala with another difference...It is endearing...right from the advertisements showing the happy, care-free 7 member strong all-arab family either wolfing down mcd burgers or trying their best to fit into a Toyota Land cruiser, this fantastic country never ceases to serve up a chuckle, especially to the narrow minded, boorish migrants who make up its majority.

Take the passport stamping officials for instance...They are one of my favorites...And It always turns out the same way....

Arab Passport official:"Nekkhst"
Me: (Hurrying to the counter)
APO:(Laughing away, talking animatedly in arabic to his friend in the next counter and absently opening my passport)
Me:(controlling an urge to join in the fun with some sounds I perceive close enough to pass as arabic)
APO:(glancing at my photo and glaring right back at me as if dumbfounded as to how could I look so hideous in the passport pic)
Me:(Defensively looking back trying to convey "fine you caught me, I photograph badly, but damn you, that snarling vampire-type is me!")
APO:(Resigning himself to some vague resemblence, Stamps the passport and starts scribbling in arabic)
Me:(starting to giggle uncontrollably)

Some explanation is in order - See, This is the part where I always lose it. Coz I swear that every time I come here, they scribble something entirely different
in my passport. I am convinced that Arabs play some sort of international prank on visa officials worldwide, confident in their belief that no one can read arabic and I wouldnt be surprised if my passport read something like..
"My reccomendation for today is Lord of the rings directors cut DVD with speciallly enhanced arabic subtitles" or "I, Rashid made out with suleima in Sahara centre behind the gummy bear rollercoaster"

Anywho, after the merry go round with the passport officials, its baggage claim and into dad's car, fully knowing that the next time I will be walking another 500 mts at a stretch will be in a month or so when I am back in this airport..
Lazy holiday...Here I ...Yawn..nevermind...