Frustrations of an Arrogant Ass***e

It starts with the immaculate fakes you can pick up for a good bargain in the crowded 'gullies' of the infamous Meena Bazar, picks up momentum at the never-ending rows of concrete and glass buildings along the Sheikh Zayed Road and ends with the poor rendition of the 'Gol Gappas' in the crowded streets of Karama. This city screams ‘FAKE’ the minute you get off at the airport, and what makes it fake is not the artificial greenery or the out of place flowers you see along the road. It’s the people. I have been to several cities in the world, some famous and some not so famous, but nothing matches this one. 

If you've been around long enough, your day would start with freshly baked croissants, a glass of preserved juice and unhealthy cupcakes from the most elite baker in town. Having had your full of empty calories first thing in the morning, you move on to better things, read crazy Dubai roads. You have beautiful freeways decked with tall and garish concrete and glass buildings on both sides of the road. Speed is the name of the game once you’re on these marvels made of asphalt, cement and gravel. Full of people who made it big overnight and hence assume life is a game, driving on these roads is as good as playing a round of NFS Most Wanted, and jokes apart, I’d rather do that sitting on my couch at home than do it out there.

If you don’t get crushed to death by some rich fucker who thinks driving a car with one foot on the accelerator and the other curled up on the seat is cool, the glare bouncing off the glass buildings will definitely make the blood flowing in those expatriate veins evaporate out of irritation. As if that isn't enough, you might even get threatened off the left lane by some reckless pseudo Schumacher tailgating you who is obviously in a hurry to race you to hell and beyond. 

If you do survive the roads and get to your workplace, you might see the day through wondering whether you really deserve to make the money you make. In all probability, you don’t. And if you think you do, step out of the swanky, air-conditioned building you work in, take a walk down the hot-as-hell street and just check with that small time laborer smoking under the shade of the joke of a tree dotted along the road. You’ll probably never want to think yourself deserving enough after that, unless of course you’re as cold hearted as the marble floors of your 21st floor apartment in Jumeirah. 

As the day comes towards an end, you will experience a chaotic racing of the mind as you browse through the notifications of your latest Blackberry Bold, S3 or iPhone 5. It’s evening. There has to be a plan! How else will you qualify to be the happening, chic and suave Dubai citizen. It’s got to be the new club that’s opened on the Marina Walk or the fabulous Japanese restaurant on the ‘30somethingth’ floor of some ridiculously tall skyscraper in the middle of the sea. It has to be interesting enough because you've got to tell your friends how much fun it was and how good the place was too, right? It can be nothing short of the best; otherwise it would be like committing social suicide, right? 

Now if there is a plan, apart from a posh place, you've also got to be wearing posh clothes. Even if you can’t talk two sentences without proving what an ignorant, pompous ass you are, your clothes have to give the impression that your finesse and sophistication is beyond the ‘desi’ hooligans who live in your own ‘desi’ Bur Dubai, Deira or Karama neighborhood. So what if you can’t contribute a rat’s ass worth to a conversation about world issues which impact not just your own future wealth and affluence but also that of zillion others you share the world with, you can always talk about your non-existent interest in art, architecture and literature, right? The Stonehenge in some place in England, the Sagrada Família Basilica in some place in Europe and the Sistine Chapel somewhere near Italy can always see you through a conversation without looking like a fool because you saw it on National Geographic or History Channel or in all probability in some crappy Rom-Com on Star Movies!!! Bah! 

Doesn't it make you sick of yourself? If it does, then please stop being like that, because it surely makes me want to throw up. I know if you’re one of those people, you’re going to be thinking, “Pompous Bitch”. But you know what, if that’s what I come across as, I don’t mind. I’m happier being known as the arrogant bitch than being perceived as the FAKE Pea-brain next door! 

Ridiculous!! If that’s what you’re thinking while reading this, you probably can guess how sick I am of some of the things I hate about this city. But this city isn't that bad either. It has beautiful weather in the winters. That’s the only saving grace. The beaches around Dubai are breathtaking. A walk through the old city walls still reverberates with the remnants of the simple lives people lived here not so far ago. The smell of Oud and Spices in the Souq takes you back into that history which remains unknown to many of the residents of this plastic town. A peek into the village life here gives you a glimpse of all those values and virtues which were once the spirit of this country, but today are found only in travel books and your imagination. The Arabian Nights have unfortunately lost their mystery, magic and grandeur and have been reduced to garish lights, over-the-top decor and redundant materialism. 

Till the folks here realize how they have a ‘Life’ but aren't really living, I’ll continue living in the hope of rediscovering the oasis in the middle of this scorching desert, and in the process, proceed further on the journey to rediscovering the Essence of Arnimaal; the Arabian Adventure has just begun ;)