Ten years flew by and I didn't even know it..though now I know I miss it..I miss Oman(people have a better idea if I say 'Muscat').
Oman is a beautiful little Arab country on the shores of the Arabian Sea and The Gulf of Oman. When I say beautiful I mean beautiful. It's unlike any of the other Middle East countries who like to spend millions on mile-long skyscrapers and malls and arcades and later worry about debts. It is a country where everything is done in moderation except maybe the landscaping.Oh yeah..in no other gulf country will you find more money spent on keeping the city squeaky tweaky clean.Oh god I miss those shiny smooth highways and twinkling streets..
I miss Al Khode the nearest town to where I lived;the little rows of kiosks and tea shops where the Omani folk like to spend their evenings,the parks and beaches...oooh the beach...where they sell 'shawarma' and barbecued meat..I miss the 'souk'(arabic for marketplace) of Muttrah where you can find traditional Omani handicrafts and jewellery,..the smell of atar and frankincense (though it used to give me a headache),the docks..the noise.The people.
The people of Oman are gentle peace-loving folk and are most down to earth.They are good friends and care a lot for family..they are always out together in big groups..in parks,malls,pavements..just about everywhere.
However back there monotony is cleverly masked by beautiful backgrounds and classy lifestyle of the people.
I miss my friends.I miss Rose and Ann and Cathy,Antonio our Brazilian buddy,others from our streets in the SQU(Sultan Qaboos University Campus),Christy and others from school,my teachers,and those (whose names I don't know) who always had the time to spare a smile and a wave each time I passed them.
Sometimes when I'm lost in such nostalgia I have to shake myself back to the reality that I actually am home, in my own country.I still haven't caught up with the rhythm of life here.Everything runs according to its own monotonous beat and yet not the Muscaty monotonous but an exciting monotonous.I mean everything that happens here everyday is different.
There are so many things here that I have to learn and change.I have already learnt how to hire autorickshaws and run after stuffed buses.The most difficult of all "basic skills of a 100% Indian" as I like to call it is how to tolerate different kinds of people and environments.I got a load of 'the Indian crowd is not as homogenous as it is here' from teachers at my old school when I went to say goodbye.I was thinking 'yeah yeah..I know better.. I go back to India each vacation'.I guess visiting India is not the same as living in India.
Oman is a beautiful little Arab country on the shores of the Arabian Sea and The Gulf of Oman. When I say beautiful I mean beautiful. It's unlike any of the other Middle East countries who like to spend millions on mile-long skyscrapers and malls and arcades and later worry about debts. It is a country where everything is done in moderation except maybe the landscaping.Oh yeah..in no other gulf country will you find more money spent on keeping the city squeaky tweaky clean.Oh god I miss those shiny smooth highways and twinkling streets..
I miss Al Khode the nearest town to where I lived;the little rows of kiosks and tea shops where the Omani folk like to spend their evenings,the parks and beaches...oooh the beach...where they sell 'shawarma' and barbecued meat..I miss the 'souk'(arabic for marketplace) of Muttrah where you can find traditional Omani handicrafts and jewellery,..the smell of atar and frankincense (though it used to give me a headache),the docks..the noise.The people.
The people of Oman are gentle peace-loving folk and are most down to earth.They are good friends and care a lot for family..they are always out together in big groups..in parks,malls,pavements..just about everywhere.
However back there monotony is cleverly masked by beautiful backgrounds and classy lifestyle of the people.
I miss my friends.I miss Rose and Ann and Cathy,Antonio our Brazilian buddy,others from our streets in the SQU(Sultan Qaboos University Campus),Christy and others from school,my teachers,and those (whose names I don't know) who always had the time to spare a smile and a wave each time I passed them.
Sometimes when I'm lost in such nostalgia I have to shake myself back to the reality that I actually am home, in my own country.I still haven't caught up with the rhythm of life here.Everything runs according to its own monotonous beat and yet not the Muscaty monotonous but an exciting monotonous.I mean everything that happens here everyday is different.
There are so many things here that I have to learn and change.I have already learnt how to hire autorickshaws and run after stuffed buses.The most difficult of all "basic skills of a 100% Indian" as I like to call it is how to tolerate different kinds of people and environments.I got a load of 'the Indian crowd is not as homogenous as it is here' from teachers at my old school when I went to say goodbye.I was thinking 'yeah yeah..I know better.. I go back to India each vacation'.I guess visiting India is not the same as living in India.
With all its highs and lows Oman is definitely my home away from home and I will cherish those good times I had there.
Yeah...visiting India is really not the same as living in India...
ReplyDeleteI had gone through similar feelings when I came back to Cochin during my 10th grade...
I used to find it weird when I used to see Cochin all deserted when the time was just 8pm!! But that was 10 years ago....Cochin has changed a lot!!...thankfully... :-)