Have you ever been on a boat ride that’s taken you through different feelings across a few minutes? I just took one myself today. In Dubai, the two most happening areas, Deira and Bur Dubai, are separated by the creek, across which small boats ferry passengers for as little as 50 fils (6 rupees). Me and a couple of friends had gone there for some filming work, and by the time we took the boat ride, it was dusk.
The Abra, which is the whole creek and all the boats with it, separates the city into two regions. The Deira side is sprinkled with all these skyscrapers and headquarters of MNCs. The Bur Dubai side, on the other hand, has managed to retain what’s left of the old Dubai. If one were to stand on the Deira side and look towards the setting sun, a mosque on the Bur Dubai side surrenders a sharp silhouette to the scenery. If you’re lucky enough to have pigeons flapping in the sky just then, you could be looking at the horizon of Constantinople from the 17th century: it’s that beautiful.
Anyway, the boat ride lasts about 3 minutes. We were riding to Deira from Bur Dubai, and it was around 06.30 in the evening. The sun had set but the horizon had managed to retain a little orange, which when blended with the new inky blue looked magnificent. There was a large crowd mulling around us: today, Friday, is when most of the shopping is done. After that, they could all go back home, relax for a bit, and Saturday evenings would again have to be spent getting prepared for work on Sunday. The rush began to increase by the minute and the traffic on the roads almost doubled by the minute. A constant roar was setting in as the Abra ferries began to get busier. We managed to get into one boat and I snuggled myself between Benjy and a stranger on the right side of the boat, the one that would be facing the Bur Dubai shore line along with a temple and some trading shops there. The ferry started off, and I just sat there, gazing into the distance. This was my first time to the Abra, and although this water ride was commonplace to all those around me, I found it fascinating.
When we were at the middle of the creek, some lights that came on just then caught my eye. The back of those trading buildings were being lit by green, pink, blue and red lights. It was dark by now (the sun set is quick here in the Middle East, especially in late winter). The whole stretch of land in front of me was dark except for this psychedelic patch. It was so beautiful, I can’t tell you. It surely was a welcome change from the yellow of the sodium vapour lamps thats lit up the roads and highways, and more of a welcome change from the drab and blunt white of the tubelights inside the shops. Some new colours for a newcomer.
I wanted to look at those lights forever. I knew the feeling I held within me just then would not last long; it would in all probability fade as soon as we got to Deira City Centre, with all its perpendicular and unimaginative modernities. I wanted to hold on to that feeling. The stranger beside me was almost sleeping – his head was nodding unmindful of the rocking of the boat. He should have been a tired labourer enjoying his week end roaming around the city, and Benjy was silent, thinking of something to himself. I was undisturbed, and the lights were there, lighting up what would otherwise have been a pale yellow wall. There not just the shadows you get that are black, but also different colours born from them mixing with each other.
Just then, there was jerk. We had arrived at Deira, the unabashed concrete jungle. I don’t how many peoplehad seen those colours like I had, or even better, but I’m sure they would only have been a few. Most of them are busy with their own work anyway, and I don’t think many have the time to sit back and devote a few minutes of their lives to enjoying the hidden beauties in their lives. We all say we have no time when asked such questions, but I don’t time is the problem. If only for a moment we realise that we have let some routines dictated by our bosses at work dominate our lives, we will also realise that we need not surrender what’s left of those lives to money and materialism. True joy lies in being able to appreciate what nature has given us, not what we have made for ourselves.
If I were given one more chance to ride the ferriec across the Abra, I would. I’d like to see if I can get those feelings. Whatever’s left of that feeling, I’ve put it down here so I can come back some other time and reminisce.