“Musafir hoon yaron ....na ghar hai ..na thikana”
This is the song that comes to my mind when I think of myself. I have just come back from another trip to the Middle East. It feels like heaven to be home in Mangalore, even though I am suffering from the after effects of the journey, complete with fever and body pain. It’s over two decades since I have been travelling to destination U A E and Alain in particular. Air India Express is as much part of my life as a rickshaw or a bus on the road!
Earlier when there were no direct flights to U A E, I used to travel through Mumbai airport. My memories of Mumbai stopover were not pleasant ones. The very thought of the long journey and changing airports were enough to give me the nervous jitters. It turned out that my husband could accompany me only three times in all these years. So I had to make do with my two young children. The tickets to and fro were also very expensive. So sometimes I would cross five airports, Dubai-Bahrain-Muscat-Mumbai-Mangalore, just so that we could fly cheaper.
Some of the incidents will always stand out in my mind distinctively. Once I was returning for my brother’s wedding, a few months earlier we’d gone for Hajj. We left our children and their passports with a friend. We forgot to collect the passports when we came back. Then just two or three days before our trip, we started hunting frantically for their passports. Finally we remembered that it was with this friend. He confirmed it, but as he was going through them he noticed both passports had expired. It was like a bolt of thunder had hit us. We were at our wits end. There was no time to renew even in emergency as it was the weekend. So finally we decided to make the trip to the airport and take it from there. As I stood in the immigration I was afraid that the officer could hear my heartbeat! He stamped our exit and we gleefully sailed through. When we reached Mangalore the first thing we did was to give their passports for renewal.
Before that in 1992, Mr. L K Advani was arrested when I was in the last stages of pregnancy with my second baby. That day I travelled without my Abaya and veil for fear of being attacked. We were taken to our hotel room amidst tight security. The usually lively Mumbai was deserted and quiet save for the policemen on the streets. Another time I narrowly missed being caught in the Mumbai floods. One day more and I would have been floating in the water at international airport Mumbai.
Transiting through Mumbai customs was always a big pain. Whether you had dutiable items or not you were dutifully made to pay “something” in order to be let out. Those were the trepidation filled journeys!
One of the downside of travelling for every wannabe passenger is the unenviable task of fitting the world into thirty plus seven or twenty plus seven allowed baggage, depending on whether you’re travelling from U A E or Mangalore. Whenever I go abroad there will be a long list of wanted items either for the house or the kids. U A E being a land of inexpensive goodies tempts you into buying and buying and buying! Then when it is time to bundle the luggage the delight turns into despair! With a heavy heart, it’s time to prioritize. Some of the coveted goodies are left behind waiting for another day or another passenger who could accommodate. Most people I know have the same problem. No one is ready to pay one dirham or one rupee more extra for excess luggage. Innumerable times I have been witness when a passenger had to open his well packed luggage and pass back things to waiting relatives or friends. Now I have learnt my lesson. Every item is listed, weighed in the mind as well as the supermarket before it gets packed. Check (desires) weigh (things) balance (what more is needed). That is the mantra...even after all this only after weighing the luggage at the counter and passing safely into the immigration zone I breathe a sigh of relief.
Ever since the establishment of Mangalore international airport, flying has become easier. I am so thankful that I can fly directly, never mind the insipid food or the cramped seats. It is easier mentally, physically and the best part on the pocket too. It also means that I can carry pathiri and kori sukka while going and bring kebab and hummus while coming! The only hitch is when the plane touches down at Mangalore airport. The heart goes flippity flop as the flight lands at frightening speed. The heart is in the mouth till the plane slows down.
Which passenger can forget the recent Mangalore air crash? The air crash when it happened was horrifying and unbelievable. We never ever thought that this would happen to us...maybe in some faraway land but not us! I was in the U A E at that time. The reaction from every member of the Mangalorean community was the same; the same thought running through each one’s mind; What if I was on that plane? As for me all I could imagine was the terror filled desperation of the passengers. What would have their situation been like? The ladies and the children screaming, praying that they would be saved somehow, the men looking for ways of escape, fire smoke and heat all around, helpless in shock and horror, before leaping tongues of flame would have engulfed them. For days I couldn’t sleep, all I could think of was the people of the plane and how they were burnt by pilot error...or was it destiny? I pray for peace for the departed souls and near and dear relatives who lost their loved ones.
I have a unique lifestyle. I live for a few months in Mangalore with my kids and one or two months in Alain with my hubby. And what of the preparations that I have to make before I either have to leave to Al-ain or Mangalore? The houses have to be cleaned well, kitchen items have to be stored away or disposed, fridges to be cleaned and things to be put in their places. I have to make arrangements to find a cook or maid to feed my son. I have been doing this from past six years, as my children are continuing their studies in Bangalore/Mangalore. By gods grace I have managed to find someone or the other to live in or part-time. This time I found a Hyderabadi cook whose food my son swears by! Every time I settle down into my routine its time to pack my bags and prepare for another flight!
A Journey within a journey! I have learnt a lot from my travels. Patience, fortitude, discipline, the determination to carry on, no matter how scared I am. These are some of the qualities I have carried on to the larger journey that is life. Bearing all fortunes or misfortunes with a smile on the lips and a prayer in the heart my journey brings me one step closer to my Creator!
I have led a very difficult life, adjusting here, adjusting there, but these experiences have made me into a better person. From a gawky teenager to the fiercely independent and confident woman I am now, I would not have life in any other way!!
“Aadmi musafir hai . . . . Aata hai, jata hai . . .”
About the author:
Nazeera Mohidine is a Mangalorean who spent a large part of her life in the Middle East. She served as a teacher at Al Ain Juniors School, UAE, before voluntarily retiring from her job. She currently resides in India where her children attend college.
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