On Monday morning, following the ceremonial visit of US President George W. Bush. The city that harldy ever sleeps come to an end.
Rumours on Sunday evening set the stage for an impending chaos next morning, with major roads being clogged off from the evening itself.
My boss, however, wanted us to be in the XPRESS office next day, right on time.
I knew I was in for trouble. The person who drops me to office daily had already refused (albeit with due apologies), citing “danger” as the main cause.
My only option was the company bus, which I had never boarded before. I was apprehensive.
However, Mustafa, the driver, was genuinely concerned.
“If this bus reaches work, you will Madam, so keep your cool and pray.”
I prayed, and for once, it seemed, my prayers were answered… I got a call from my colleagues Moyna and Ivan that Mustafa had managed to find his way out of Bur Dubai towards Karama… and so, “Get ready! For in 20 minutes flat, he’ll be there to pick you up.”
I rushed.
At 8.35am Mustafa arrived. Once I boarded the bus, I was quite confident of my Press powers. My colleagues, who have been in Dubai for sometime now, were amused.
“It won’t help. This is not India.”
“Let’s see…” I replied.
Our first try was the Sana Signal. The road was blocked. Mustafa took the Mankhool Road. However, it was closed too. We then decided to get down at every signal and ask the duty officer for “special permission for the Press”.
By then we knew that if we manage to reach either Al Wasl Road or Jumeirah side, we might get to the office. We retuned to Sana. Waved our ID cards. Requested. Then pleaded. “No habibi…” was the answer.
A group of Europeans wanted to walk down through the Shaikh Zayad Road to the Trade Centre.
“We will be losing $1,000 (Dh3860) a day, if we can’t make it to the exhibition today,” they cried.
The reply from the police officer: “Sorry. No cars, no pedestrians. Do not forget, it’s Bush who’s here. Nothing doing… Just turn back and return.”
Mustafa then tried the Al Salahuddin Street. Same story. Shaikh Rashid Road, Al Diyafa, Rasal Khor, even the palace route and the Emirates Road side… all exits from Karama and Bur Dubai were sealed.
After one-and-a-half hours of a tiring joy ride, Mustafa dropped us back.
As I was talking to my boss in front of my apartment, my father came.
“I went to Spinneys to buy Chicken Tikka Sandwich for Rraj (my son). But, no fresh food has arrived. Rraj will have to do without his favourite sandwich.”
The guard on duty at my apartment gave me an amused smile.
“I knew you won’t be able to make it Madam… you are in the newspaper… don’t you know … today Bush is coming… the government wants us to celebrate the occasion with our families!”
I sighed.
As I rang the bell and said my usual “bhow” to my son, he jumped, and cheered.
“Mummum is back from office.”
I only wish I could’ve made it - but I’ll have to keep trying.
