The Desert Rose - Chapter 5

India, the Motherland

After an eventful Friday, the day dawned on Saturday. The morning was very chilly. Menon was still in his bed and did not want to come out of the blanket. But he could not avoid the call of duty. At 6-30 A.M, he started his car. There was a dense fog spread all over the desert and the road was visible only for about fifteen metres ahead. He drove very carefully. The road was very dangerous. He took one hour to reach Ghusseli. Unusually, he felt hungry and he stepped into Khalifa canteen.

“What news Engineeyor?” Abdulla asked Menon in his own Malayalam style.

 Menon smiled and said “nothing particular”.

“Finish the villas fast so that I can earn a little more” Abdulla expressed his aspiration with a smile. There was sorrow in his smiling eyes.

“Surely Ikka….” Menon said.

Menon ate bread and a pair of eggs half fried with a cup of coffee.

When he reached the site, the work had already started.

Ibrahim Fardan was on site ahead of him. That was his usual habit. He was an early bird. They wished each other. From his facial expressions, Ibrahim was satisfied with the first day’s progress of work. Abdulla, General Foreman, greeted them with a smile. One of his canine teeth was golden and he was very proud to exhibit the same whenever he smiled. Ibrahim gave him some instructions and left the site.

Abdulla spread the layout drawing and discussed with Menon the course of action.

“We need to pour the first concrete latest by the day after tomorrow. You please make all arrangements” Menon instructed Abdulla.

“Insha Allah” Abdulla replied.

The labour quarters were getting populated all day and by the evening about one hundred and fifty workers would occupy the accommodation. But we will need at least another three hundred workers, Menon thought.

He discussed with Ibrahim about his labour requirement in the afternoon.

Ibrahim said “There should not be any problem. We have a group visa for two hundred Indian persons and I will arrange for the visa for another three hundred. I am going to the Ruler’s Office tomorrow and I will get the approval”

“That would be very fine” Menon said.

“On Thursday, you go to Bombay and meet the recruiting agent, John Bargosa. My friend Ashok Tandon will help you to find workers” Ibrahim said.

Ibrahim’s actions were always spontaneous. Menon felt happy as he would be going to India.

On Monday, preparations to pour the first concrete had been completed. The Consultants’ representative Engineer Jayesh Agarwal checked the layout and green signal was given to proceed with the concreting. Abdulla brought three goats. He took a knife and mercilessly slit the throats of the goats one by one. The animal sacrifice was for the smooth and successful execution of the work. Later, the meat was distributed among the workers.

Concreting was completed as originally scheduled and Menon was proud of the success of his plans. But the waling of the goats to death and the gushing blood haunted him the whole day.

Work continued in great strides up to 9-00 P.M every day. The site transformed itself into a busy construction arena. Rashid, the Purchase Manager arranged Menon’s flight tickets for Thursday evening by Air India, to Bombay.

Wednesday evening Menon went to Bur Dubai to make some purchases. As the Customs regulations in India had become very strict, he bought a few selected articles.

On Thursday, the Air India Boeing 707 taxied along the runway of the Dubai International Airport. It was 11-00 P.M. Menon looked through the windows. The jet engines produced immense noise as their blades rotated in uncountable revolutions and the wheels rolled on the apron with great speed. His heart beats increased as the aircraft rose to the skies. The ground looked slanting, as the aircraft gathered speed and elevation. The sweat slowly dried up from the youthful face of Menon.

The seat belts sign went off. A charming lady, a cabin attendant, asked him “would you like to have some drinks, sir?” She bought two measures in small bottles of whiskey with a glass and a bottle of soda. Menon started to sip the liquor. Whenever he flew, he would definitely have a few drinks to gather some Dutch courage.

The Captain addressed the passengers and wished them a good flight. As the liquor started to mingle with his blood, Menon’s flight fear vanished. Instead a new vigour and enthusiasm crept in him. He was very handsome with his long hair covering his ears, the fashion of the day. Every air hostess while passing his seat would invariably make glances at him and the liquor inside his body made his face look very red. The aircraft filled with smoke and vapours of liquor. The unruly behavior of his co-passengers disturbed Menon. He thought. They are spoiling the name of the country.   

His mind went back to his meeting with Baqer on Friday at his hut and the enticing laughter of that girl. He felt an unknown attachment to Baqer and the girl. He became curious to know about her.

Dinner was served by the cabin attendants. Menon ate with very good appetite. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep when the dinner was finished. The announcement of the air hostess that the aircraft was about to land at Bombay International Airport woke him up from his slumber and he fastened his seat belt.