The Desert Rose - Chapter 2

Thursday Night

At 4 o’ clock, he went to his office. Mr Ibrahim Fardan, one of the partners of the company, was waiting for him to know about the day’s developments. He showed the Demarcation Certificate to him.

“We need to arrange the D8’s from tomorrow. The site is full of sand dunes and we need to establish the levels from the benchmark from the Municipality points. Tomorrow, itself we need to start excavation for the first group of villas” the Engineer explained to Ibrahim.

“I have already asked Kuffiffi to arrange the same for you. They will work on Friday. We need to construct the labour quarters from tomorrow. Abdulla, the General Foreman will shift some workers. The purchase department is arranging 4mm plywood and the required white wood for you, by the end of today.” Ibrahim said.

“Alright. Today is the date of start of the project and we have six months to complete this eight million dirhams project. We will work twenty four hours and all days in the week” he told Ibrahim. “It is my goal to finish the project in five months”. His words were full of confidence.

“I hope for the best.” Ibrahim said.

“Yes, Ibrahim, it is a challenge. I love challenges”, he said.

“Good Luck, Menon” Ibrahim wished him.

Ibrahim always addressed him with his surname.

That Thursday evening was special to Menon. It was the start of a dream project, the largest project by his company. He was instrumental in getting the project awarded to his company, as he had tendered for the project with the most competitive rates. In fact M/s Tariq & Associates, the Consultants of the project had commented that the rates were very low and the Contractor might not complete the work on time. But Ibrahim’s influence in the Ruler’s Office fetched him the project after he had promised that he would complete the project on time.

Menon thought, I am three years old in this company and I know how to deal with such projects. I will finish the project before time with good profit to the company.

Fernando brought “Red Label Johnywalker” bottles for the evening. Fernando was the chief accountant of the company. Being a Goan, he was a very good cook. He took care of the kitchen and started to prepare his usual fried rice with sausages and tasty sauces.

Menon had a hot water bath and deposited himself on the black sofa set in front of the black and white TV. He switched on the Sony three-in-one player and inserted the LP record of Demis Russos. It started to play the song, “Good Bye My Love”

Meanwhile, Fernando opened a Johnywalker bottle and poured a large peg for Menon. He took two sips at a time, as Demis Russos continued his songs.

Menon thought about his family at home, back in India. It was the time of his first journey to the Gulf.

His mother was sobbing and told him “Take care of your health. Don’t worry about us, we will all pray for you, for your prosperity which will lift us from the thorny bed of poverty.” She wiped her tears with her sari.

He said “I promise you mother. We will get out of this situation”.

Menon’s heart ached to leave all his loved ones.

 “You are very slow this evening” Fernando said and poured another small peg of whiskey for Menon.

“Fernando, please change the record, Demis Russos is very sentimental and he is putting me off. Play El Bimbo by Paul Mauriat. Let me uplift my mood”. Menon emptied his glass in one sip. The pungent liquid spread fire to his throat and then travelled like lava down his gullet to his innocent starving stomach.

Abd El Halim Hafiz, the Egyptian singer, was on TV singing his famous song. Menon’s heart sank as the song spread pathos in the air. The intoxication level was rising and his eyes filled up.

Menon poured another small peg of the liquor. He splashed a few ice cubes into his glass and gulped the fiery liquid. His eyes were red and his actions were becoming involuntary.

“This is for your success in starting the new project” Fernando raised his glass in a toast.

It was 11-00 PM, when Menon started to drive his car to Deira. Fernanado was very confident as Menon was the best driver while drunk. A few Arab youths were hooting their car horns as they sped past on the al Maktoum Street. At the Deira Cinema, the night show was on. Chilly wind blew from the nearby desert and Fernando kept down the shutters of the car.

Being Thursday night, the Deira Restaurant was full with Arabs, local and expatriate. Menon and Fernando sat at a vacant table. A waiter with a pot tummy, an Egyptian, approached them to take the order.

Menon ordered the usual kababs with Lebanese bread, homuz and salads (Lebanese delicacies). 

While the food was eaten, the intoxication reached its azimuth for them and their eating went on uncontrollably. By the time they stopped, two dozen kababs had passed through their mouths full of saliva to their eating bags below.

Menon drove the car very immaculately with much more care than of a sobre person. When they passed the Clock Tower round-about, the needles of the clock showed the time as 2-00 A M, on Friday.