Wadi Rum

I randomly came across the "behind the scenes" clips of the upcoming Disney movie "Aladdin" the other day and saw shots of a very familiar looking desert. It took me only a second to figure out that it was none other than Wadi Rum in Jordan. It is instantly recognisable because there is no other like it. 

Wadi Rum means "valley of the moon". It is a vast expanse of desert in the southern part of Jordan that has red coloured sand and some unique rock structures.

It is located in Aqaba District and is about an hour's drive from Petra. So if one is planning a trip to Petra, it is not a bad idea to include a visit to Wadi Rum as well. Tour of the desert is quite cheap compared to Petra.  Another option is to reach Aqaba from Amman and then take a taxi to Wadi Rum which is about half an hour’s drive from there. All three locations are situated in the south of Amman in the following order: Petra and then Wadi Rum and Aqaba. 

Wadi Rum is a desert, with no roads, buildings or any other kind of basic infrastructure facility, so no bus or any other kind of mass transit system reaches it. One has to take a taxi from either Aqaba or Petra to get to it. Taxi from Petra to Wadi Rums costs around 40 JODs and can seat 4 passengers. Taxi from Aqaba costs around 25 JODs. Foreigners and non-Jordanians are also required to pay a 5 JOD per person entrance fee before entering the Wadi Rum Protected area which is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. 

As far as I can recall it is not possible to visit the desert on your own (though I may be wrong about this). One has to book a tour with one of the local tour company/ camping site to be able to access it.

Queen of  the Bedouins 

Our four hours desert tour, along with dinner and overnight stay plus breakfast cost us about 40 JODs per person but the price can go up or down depending upon the campsite/ touring company chosen and the duration of the desert tour.  One has the option to go for the entire package, or just opt for 2, 4 or 6 hours tour of the desert minus the overnight stay. There are several companies that offer these tours and can even arrange for pick and drop from Petra or Aqaba (at an extra charge).

But why go at all?

Because it is one of the most amazingly mesmerising places on earth. 

Due to its unique red coloured sand, Wadi Rum has been depicted as the surface of the planet Mars in the movie, " The Martian".  Apart from "The Martian", the natural settings of Wadi Rum have served as the set of several other films including shooting of scenes from, Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen, Prometheus, Rogue One: a star Wars story and lately Aladdin, to name a few.

Perhaps the movie that made Wadi Rum famous was David Lean's 1962 film, "Lawrence of Arabia".  There is a particular area called Lawrence's Spring here which got its name because the lead character, Peter O Tool, who played the part of "Lawrence of Arabia", used to come to this place with his crew members to collect water. The spring is located up on a hill. It is a 20 or so minutes climb to the spring but since water is scarce in the desert, the climb is worth it.

Ancient inscriptions on the rocks near the spring told ancient travellers about the presence and location of water. I guess it was a kind of primordial sign board.

The local Bedouins use water sparingly, it being a precious commodity. Apart from the natural springs, another source of water is the rain water reserves which fill up during the rains and can be used by the locals for several months afterwards.

There are many beautiful rock formations in the desert and several canyons, arches and sand dunes that can be climbed. The climb is neither easy nor for the faint hearted but the view at the top makes the whole effort worthwhile. Not to mention that the climb itself gives one a sense of achievement.

A four hour or more tour of Wadi Rum is gruelling and strongly tests your stamina and endurance.  It can be demanding but exhilarating.  Local Bedouins act as guides.  Fortunately, you are allowed to rest in the middle and offered free Bedouin hospitality tea, as much as you want to drink, to freshen you up. It is always a good idea to make sure that the guide being allocated to you speaks reasonable enough English. His being talkative and gregarious can be a bonus because then he is likely to offer more information about the desert as compared to a silent, brooding one. There is one Bedouin village inside the Wadi Rum Protected area and many Bedouin families have now taken up residence there but from time to time many go back to the desert and live there for months following their centuries old way of life surviving only on what nature provides them with. They are nomads at heart and setting up roots in one place does not appeal to them. 

Wadi Rum is known for its magnificent view of a star filled sky especially on moonless nights but I think it is the vast expanse of open space that that makes the desert truly amazing . The openness of the vast rust coloured stretch of land gives one a sense of freedom and liberty. Stretching for miles in all directions, the desert appears limitless as if existing in a timeless capsule of its own, away from the mad hustle and bustle of the modern world.

Definitely a place worth adding to one’s bucket list.

Petra: Land of the Nabateans

The city of Petra is located in Wadi Musa at about 4 hours’ drive from Amman in the southern direction and the best and the most economical way to get to it is through JETT bus service. One-way ticket to Petra costs around 11 JOD (Jordanian Dinar) and a return one costs 18 (though the price may have gone up in the last six months since I was there but I doubt it, and even if it did, it could not have increased more than one or two dinars).
The daily Jett bus to Petra leaves fairly early in the morning. It has three stops within the city of Amman. First stop: Abdali at 6:30 am, Second Stop: in front of Intercontinental Hotel at the second Circle at 6:45 am, then last and final stop is at the Jett bus station itself near the 7th Circle at 7:00 am. From 7th Circle the bus leaves for Petra sometime between 7:15 - 7:30 am. If one misses catching the bus at either of the two earlier stops, one can always take a cab to the next station and hop on (provided one has a ticket) but once the bus leaves from the 7th circle, it is gone for good and does not stop, except for a midway break between Amman and Petra. The Jett bus station at Petra is right next to the entrance of Petra visitors' center which is the gate to the ancient historic site. Arrival time here is sometime after 11:00 am. For those who plan a day trip, the same bus returns to Amman at 5:00 pm (summer time) on the same day but one has to be at the station by 4:45 pm at least (preferably 4:30 pm). Reason being that a lot of non-ticket holders also hover around the station near departure time and if the regular ticket holders are missing, the seats are sold to the ones in the waiting line. The age old saying that time and tide wait for no one can be modified a little to say that the Jett bus also waits for no one. It departs at 5:00 pm sharp even if there is no waiting line and it has to go back with empty seats.
A five-hour duration between 11:30 in the morning till 4:30 in the afternoon can be enough time for the excursion of the ancient city of Petra but only if the main trail is followed. A more detailed exploration requires more time. I personally think that a master piece of ancient civilization like Petra deserves more than a hurried tour.
An overnight stay at one of the local hotels gives an extra day plus the opportunity to start early the next day. Also the entry ticket to Petra is quite on the expensive side, about 50 JOD per person per day but an extra 5 JOD gets one a two-day access to the site. (It is possible to buy a Jett bus return ticket which takes one back to Amman on the next day instead of the same one but that has to specified at the time of purchase as the travelling dates are mentioned on the tickets).

The "Siq"

If one does plan on staying overnight, then while picking hotels, it is essential to pick one near the Visitors’ center as the town of Petra is situated on a hilly terrain that has different elevation levels. Walking long distance on the up and down roads can take its toll on one. Some hotels located further away also provide free shuttle service to the site for their guests so they can be a good option as well.  Hiring a taxi is not advisable. Only to be considered if no other option is available. Taxis cost about three times more in Petra than they do in Amman plus sometimes it feels like that the sole purpose of taxi drivers’ in Jordan is to rip you off. They invent the most unethical and scary tactics to do that. These tactics include not just quoting exorbitant amounts for brief journeys but also stopping taxis in the middle of nowhere, demanding to be paid more than the initially agreed about amount. If you happen to find a driver who agrees to go by meter than there is more than a distinct possibility that he will try to take you by the longest and most outlandish route to increase his fare. Under the circumstances it is safest and wisest to stick to Uber which is readily available in Amman. Whether Uber service is available in Petra, I do not know.  Since our hotel was right in front of the visitors’ center, we didn’t need one.
Nick named the Rose city because of the rose coloured stones, Petra was most probably the capital city of the Nabatean Kingdom, a nation of trading Arabs who constructed buildings by digging into and carving the surrounding stone structures.

To get to the main structures of Petra one has to pass through the "Siq": A Narrow passage way that leads to the Treasury. Not only is first sight of the Treasury, as you come out of the narrow passage, incomparable but the 20 or so minutes’ walk through this narrow gorge to reach the Treasure is also truly amazing. 

Al Khazneh: The Treasury 

The treasury or “Al Khazneh” is one of the most celebrated structures at Petra. It is one of the wonders of the modern world and has been portrayed in several films including "Indiana Jones and the last Crusade". The area in front of the Treasury is almost never empty. Since it is one of the most photographed sites in the world, there is always a horde of tourist clicking away at its impressive stone façade.
For those who are not much into walking, several different modes of transportation are also available. Horse drawn carriages that take one from the main gate till the Treasury and back, camels along the main path and sturdy mules that can take one up all the way to the Monastery. Like in all other places in Jordan (other than branded shops in malls) bargaining is a must, and nothing short of one third of the price quoted should be settled upon. And no matter what ever amount is settled upon, be prepared for a “tip” request in the end as well.
From the Treasury, the main path takes one through a multitude of ancient historic structures that include the Ancient Nabatean theatre, Royal Tombs and the Roman era ruins among others. There are many side trails leading to less popular sites but unless one is of an adventurous nature and has ample
time, like more than one day, only then these should be explored.
The ascent to the “Monastery” starts where the main trail comes to an end. One can either choose to return form this point or climb the stairs all the way up to the Monastery. The stairs are actually steps cut into stone and t
here are a 960 of them in total. ( I used to think that the 300 something steps to Batu Caves in Malaysia were tough but they are nothing compared to the ones leading to the Monastery at Petra). It takes at least 45 minutes to an hour for a hale and hearty person to go up those steps. For the not so hale and hearty, the option to go atop a mule is available for a price of 10-12 Dinars. At regular intervals throughout the climb, local Bedouins have their makeshift stalls set up that sell trinkets, souvenirs and even cool water to the tourists.

Al Dier: The Monastery 

The Monastery on top of the Mountain, also known as Al Dier in the local language was featured in the 2009 Hollywood movie, Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen, so the younger generation would be pretty familiar with it. Being a UNESCO World Heritage Site, entry inside all structures at Petra, including the Treasury as well as the Monastery is prohibited, but one can take as many photos outside of it as one likes. The air on top of the mountain is crisp and cool even in the middle of summer. The openness and the stark beauty of the landscape alone makes the climb worth it.

To sum it all up in one sentence, Petra is a place that someone like me can easily fall in love with.
To be honest, I think I am already half way there.

Ajlun: The Castle that was never conquered

For some reason the Middle Eastern region has always been a tumultuous one, be it contemporary times or the Middle Ages. Located at the cross roads of the known world back in ancient times, the Middle Eastern region was not only richer in history and culture as compared to any other part of the world, it also had the best produce and most favorable weather. If this was not enough reason for nations to fight to gain control over it, then the fact that it also happened to be the birth place of the major religions of the world, made it the most sought after piece of land.

For hundreds of years the Church and the Monarchies of Europe joined hands together to send wave after wave of Christian Zealot fighters to free the Holy lands from the clutches of what they called the “infidels” ; or in other words "The Muslims".

But the Muslims of the area did not take this lying down.

Perched on top of a hill, above the valley of Jordan, overlooking the wide horizons, sits the Castle at Ajlun.

Built on the orders of Salahudin, sometime during the 12th century, probably on the site of an old Byzantine monastery, the purpose of construction of the castle at Ajlun was to protect the area from foreign invaders i.e the crusaders. 
Most of the Medieval castles that I have seen are in ruins, little more than piles of stones and half broken walls but Ajlun is pretty intact. While walking through its numerous corridors, rooms and going up and down the stairways, it is not difficult to imagine what the castle must have looked like at its peak, complete with furniture and occupants.
Not at all difficult to visualize where in the center of the room a huge long table may have been placed to serve food. (that is, if the Muslim soldiers used a table to eat back then. It may be possible that using a table for meals was a European custom that might have arrived with the crusaders). Nor is it difficult to envision where the sleeping quarters would have been for the regular guards of the castle and possibly of those soldiers who were passing through the area to go resume their duties in more disturbed regions.
Each chamber, each corridor reveals new images of years gone by and tells new stories of what must have once been. There is enough loose yarn of historic ambiance spread throughout the facility to weave into an imaginary pattern of events and actions that might have taken place there centuries ago. All that is needed is a little over active imagination and a desire to lose oneself in the mysteries that the castle is so willing to reveal.
Back in the days when this land was not divided through borders into multiple nations, the whole area formed one huge region under the Muslim’s rule. The roof of the Castle not only offers an unlimited view for miles and beyond in all directions to what in current day is Lebanon, Syria and Israel, it also provides the coolest breeze ever, even in the middle of the hot summer season. The orchards in the valley below produce the most wondrous variety of olives, figs and grapes. There is also a special tower where pigeons used to be kept. These served as speedy means of communication in times of war as well as in peace time
It was no doubt ideally located given the circumstances of that time and it obviously boasted excellent defensive mechanism as well but I personally believe that being located on high ground as compared to the surrounding area also made it extremely difficult, if not totally impossible to be captured by an invading army. Perhaps that is why unlike most castles and keeps in the area that have come under the rule of the invading crusaders at some point or the other, Ajlun was never subjugated and to this day remains the Castle that was never conquered.

Lawn Mania

Everywhere I go these days I see huge billboards advertising one brand of lawn or the other.

The photo shoots for these advertisements take place at exotic locations all over the world which goes to show the huge amount of budget allocated for marketing of these brands.  

Not only are these brands exorbitantly overpriced, but way too many in my opinion and yet I still hear women complaining that they could not get the print of their choice because it was sold out. 

What is it about a few meters of cloth that makes decent women behave like complete hooligans?

It is almost as if the entire female population of our country is collectively suffering from “Lawn Mania”.

This kind of reminds me of a similar obsession the Dutch had with Tulips a few centuries back. I remember being shown a painting of Rembrandt's wife in the National Gallery of Arts in London  where she is depicted as a Spring Goddess or Fairy of some kind holding a bunch of flowers. Right in the middle of that bunch is a very prominent Tulip. Our guide told us that back in Rembrandt's day, Tulips were so expensive that you could buy an entire house with just five or six of those flowers. So when Rembrandt painted his wife holding a Tulip, he was basically bragging to the rest of the world that he is rich and successful enough to afford one.
Although our Pakistani ladies' obsession with designer lawns may not be in the same league as the Dutch's fascination with Tulips, nor the price that high (yet) but in essence it is the same: paying for something that is clearly not worth the outrageous amount being paid for it.

Frustrated

Why is it that people in our country think that it is OK to cut lines ,OK to jump red lights ,OK to block exits , OK to throw garbage straight out of their car windows and so on. There is an entire list of "don'ts" that people do, not just with out giving it a second thought but also with out any kind of awareness that they are doing anything wrong.

I used to think that people do that because the repercussions are not there. Why else would the same people who drive around with cars that exhale smoke heavier than chimneys or broken side view mirrors would become so law abiding and so conscious of not committing traffic violations as soon as they go abroad. That is because they know they will not be able to get away with any of the violations they commit on or off the roads . They know that abroad there is no getting away by offering somebody the a little green note to turn a blind eye to their crime or calling up some superior relation occupying a position of authority on the the phone and asking them to intervene.

I also used to think this kind of attitude was common among Asian nationals but but I got a bit of a surprise on my trip to Malaysia this summer.

 The Malaysians who are every bit as Asian as us seem to have understood the simple and basic fact that bending a rule is the same as breaking it. When it comes to regulations you need to stick to them hard and fast. I was especially impressed by the staff at Sunway lagoon water park, which was not only well maintained but the staff was trained to be uncompromising when it came to following rules and regulations. If your weight is not within the range specified for a certain ride, you don't get to go, if you cut the line, you don't get to go, even if you are not wearing the proper clothes you don't get to go on any of the rides (speaking of proper clothes, jeans are not allowed, so if any one is planning to visit that water park in the near future, please take note that you will not be allowed to go on any of the rides if you are wearing jeans, or wearing anything with too many buckles and zippers, or wearing any loose flowing dresses).

This no compromising on the rules was upheld by even the Paratha lady at  our Langkawi hotel. I call her the Paratha lady because, one, I don't know her name and two, she used to make the most awesome, lightest square Parathas for breakfast every morning that tasted like heaven with a bowl of vegetable curry.

There was always a long queue of people holding their plates in front of her station. Once when it was almost my turn a guest lady just strolled up to the front of the line with her plate and that petite little Paratha lady who could not have been more than five feet in height and somewhere in her twenties (judging by her looks) without even bothering to raise her head from her work told the guest lady to "please get in line and wait for her turn". That is what I call putting someone in their place, literally.
I can't even recall how many times I have walked up to the person in charge and complained about someone jumping the line and gotten an extremely frustrating "what am I suppose to do about it" in return.
You can refuse to serve them, you idiot.

I am not saying Malaysians are perfect.  I was advised on the streets of kuala Lumpur not to dangle my handbag so carelessly on my arm or somebody would snatch it. There are all kinds of people amongst all nationalities and Malaysians are no different and neither are Pakistanis. Every now and then I do get to come across somebody who sticks to his guns and refuses to bow to the system. I have my deepest regards for such a person.

To sum it up I think the habit of doing the right thing should be instilled from childhood. It should be something that is taught along with all those other things we teach our children like writing, reading, eating etc. Not that teaching them these much needed values would be without consequences. The danger of them being outcasts and misfits in a system that runs on corruption will be there.
My own nephew decided to settle abroad a few years ago. According to him there are only two ways to survive in this environment.  You either become corrupt like everyone else and blend in or you just leave. He left. Pity
I wonder how many others have left because they too became disillusioned with the state of the affairs?
How many others realized that the values that had been instilled into them since early years had no place in the practical world they lived in?
How many others chose to leave?
And even worst, how many were forced to compromise in order to stay?
Either way the loss is ours as a nation. I just hope we realize that before it is too late.
 

Stranded in London, though only briefly.

Oxford_City_Birdseye.jpg  From Wikimedia Commons, the free media repository

One fine morning a long long time ago I decided to take a trip to Oxford. Not the street where all the top brands are found, but the place where the world famous university is located.
It had been one of  my childhood dreams to go study at either Oxford or Cambridge University one day. Among several high profile career plans that I dreamed about while growing up, the one held on to for the longest period of time was to become a  scientist, with maybe a Noble Prize or two under my belt as well.
Unfortunately my career plans did not actually unfold the way I had hoped they would and I never did get to attend the great universities of the world but since I was in London, I figured that the least I could do was to pay my dream place a visit, especially when I found out that the city of Oxford is about an hour's train ride away from London.
I was staying at Sloan Street with family friends and the nearest train to Oxford left from Paddington Station.
On the day of the journey I packed some sandwiches for myself  before heading out.
It was a beautiful sunny morning, the kind that brightens up London. Instead of taking the fast underground route, I walked all the way from Knightsbridge to Paddington, taking a short cut through Hyde park, even sitting down on a bench to feed the crumbs of my sandwich to the birds in the park. I was in no hurry. It was a lovely day and I was enjoying my walk.
The day went went reasonably well. I bought my ticket to Oxford at Paddington station and spent a leisurely day roaming around the streets of Oxford, taking in the beauty of its centuries old college buildings and lush green meadows.

Sometime in the afternoon before it started to grow dark I decided to conclude my exploration of the charming little town and head back to London. 

I have always felt that I have a bird's nature. I want to fly home as soon as it starts to grow dark. Something inside of me starts to pull me towards my nest.
Although the hour was not too late but it was dark by the time I got back to London. Luckily I knew enough of London to not feel uncomfortable navigating through it at night time all by myself. Knowing the efficiency of London's underground system, I figured, I would be home in less than an hour.
I could not have been more wrong.
Just as I reached my desired platform an announcement was made over the public speaking system which went something like "all trains to Knightsbride have been cancelled"
What was even more disappointing was that had I reached the platform even ten minutes earlier I would have been able to catch the last train that left from there.
"you are going to Knightsbridge?" That is when I heard a male voice beside me.
"Yes."
 I would have thought that was pretty obvious considering that I was standing on the platform from where the train left for Knightsbridge.
Whenever I go abroad I generally wear western attire but for some reason that day I was wearing a Shalwar Qameez. Judging from my eastern looks and choice of clothes it was not difficult for the young man standing next to me to correctly assume that I was not a regular Londoner.
"where are you from?
I am sometimes asked this questions when I am in eastern garb so I was not surprised by it.
"Pakistan"
I also readily tell people where I am from to keep them from assuming that I come from India which they do about 90% of the time.
"Really? How interesting. I am from Iraq, my name is Jasim. What is yours ?"
I tell him my name out of politeness as I ascend the multiple levels of the London underground transit system amongst a throng of equally disappointed commuters who will have to look for alternative means of getting to their destination now that their train had been cancelled. All the while, Jasim going up the stairs next to me is throwing a volley of questions my way.
His curiosity is not appeased by just knowing who I am and where I come from.
I am an extrovert person and fall into conversation easily but providing complete strangers with information like how I like London and how long is my stay going to last etc is making  me feel uncomfortable so I answer as vaguely as possible even evading a few with out being impolite.
Soon we were out in the open and before I had a chance to walk away he threw another question my way. This time a totally unexpected one.
"Do you want  to go to Disco ?"
I must confess that my mind was on trying to figure out how to get home since my most preferred and most convenient mode of transportation was no longer a viable option.  So to say that his offer at that point took me completely by surprise would be an understatement.
"What?"
"I said I would like to take you to a Disco"
"No thanks. I don't go to Discos."
"Why not ? You think it is Haram ?
This question baffled me even more than the first one .
"I don't know. I have never actually thought about it as being either Haram or Halal."
"Then why won't you come?"
"Because it is getting late and the people I am staying with are expecting me to get back home on time and will be extremely worried if I don't."
I am making up excuses that  are sounding lame even to my ears. Surely he can sense that I am trying to shake him off.
"Tomorrow then?"
Apparently he can't.
"I am leaving London tomorrow."
I gave a reply which was partly true. I was planning to go to my uncle's place in Manchester, though not the next day but within the coming week. But I was not going to tell him that.
I decided to put an end to this chance meeting along with its conversation which was getting too lengthy and too awkward for my liking. I told him that it was very nice meeting him but now I was going go call my uncle and aunty, the people I am staying with, and ask them to pick me up from here.
Instead of bidding adieu as  I headed towards a red phone booth nearby he followed me instead. He also dug into his pocket and took out  coins for me to make the call.
"Thank you I have change for the call", I declined. Accepting money from strangers, even those who irritatingly latch on to me, is out of the question.
"No take these" . He insisted thrusting his palm forward.
I dug my own hand into my pocket and took out twice the amount of coins he had in his hand.
"I am leaving  London tomorrow and all these coins will go to waste if I don't use them so I might as well". I picked up my previous lie and built upon it by purposely implying that I was not just leaving London but England as well the next day.
He did not insist any further after looking at my palm full of change but did stand out side the phone booth as I made my call.
My uncle, at whose place I had been staying, was not only one of my father's colleague and close  friend but also, at that time, Pakistan's Defence Attache in London. My trip, unfortunately had coincided with the arrival of a very important delegation from Pakistan and both my uncle and his wife had their schedules overbooked to include playing host to the dignitaries and escorting them all over London.
One of the regrets that both of them expressed profusely almost every day was they had not been able to give me the attention or time that I deserved. I had assured them that I had been to London before and was perfectly capable of enjoying the city's delights on my own, hence the packed sandwiches and daily single excursions.
My phone call to their residence in  Sloan street only enlightened me to the fact they had still not returned home.
"They are coming to pick me up". I lied to Jasim as I came out of the booth.
It was time to get rid of him
"I will wait till they come"
"No need. They will be here soon. I am going to be fine. Just go."
"Are you sure"?
"Positive"
I felt a little guilty openly lying to him like this because he genuinely looked concerned.
To my utter relief he finally obliged and started to walk away.
I saw him cross the road and  walk around aimlessly for a minute or so, probably looking for someone else to take to the Disco.  Somebody who would be more willing to go.
He was a young man somewhere in his mid twenties, not too bad looking. Chances are he probably did find somebody.
Strangely enough, the possibility of him being a predator never occurred to me at the time or for many years afterwards for that matter.
I waited till he was out of sight before heading towards the next underground station. I  still had to figure out how to get back home.
There were a few traditional black London taxis standing nearby  but I did not want to ride them. Firstly, I was not comfortable going in a cab alone at night and secondly I figured they would be expensive, which they are. To be honest, the expense part weighed more heavily with me then the safety part. I guess I needed to have my priorities straightened out back then.
The route through Hyde park that I had used in the morning was equally impractical right now. I realized that the moment I came out of Paddington Station when I got back to London. The entrance to the park was right in front of the station exit and the same park which had appeared lovely and cheerful in the morning looked dark, gloomy and sinister at night.  To cap it off, on top of  the  Park gate there was a sign that warned people  to avoid going through the park after dark for their own safety.
I consider myself to be pretty gutsy most of the time but not gutsy enough to ignore that very clear warning sign. Going around the park was also not doable. Diagonally cutting across the park in the morning had not taken me too long but circumnavigating half of it from one corner to the other on foot was next to impossible. Anyone who is familiar with the length and breadth of Hyde park would know what I am talking about.
I entered the top level of the second underground station. It was full of hustle and bustle the way stations are. In one corner two railway worker wearing their workers' uniform were standing talking to each other. One of them was a slightly portly middle aged guy of Asian origin who looked at my Shalwar Qameez, and then at me, with interest. Though not with the same type of interest as Jasim.
I bee lined towards him.
I am also not a person who panics often and even when I do panic I don't let it show a lot but something akin to panic must have been on my face because I was greeted by the good natured Asian gentleman with a large smile a very jovial, "haan jee , kiy ho gaya"?
(what is the matter? what has happened ?)
Something about him speaking in the same language as my own made me instantly calm down. It made me feel like I was already half way home.
I told him my problem and he crushed all my hopes by informing me that all trains heading towards Knightsbridge and its adjoining areas were indeed suspended that night from not just one but all the stations.
So much for London's dependable and efficient underground railway system.
He then did something for which I will be eternally grateful. He took out a few brochures from a rack nearby which had London maps and bus routes printed on them and proceeded to tell me what number bus from which point will take me to my destination.
I could have kicked myself for not thinking of this excellent and not to mention economical mode of transportation earlier.
Needless to say I got home via bus service safe and sound that night, though with the heavy London traffic, even the bus journey took over a hour and a half .
I had started my return journey from Oxford a little before 5 p.m. figuring I would be back home by seven or eight at most. It was infect well past nine by the time I finally reached Sloan Street. My uncle and aunty making it back themselves almost at the same time.
We had a very nice and cosy dinner together during which my aunty asked me if I had bought anything for myself that day. I think I gave her a shock when I explained that the Oxford I had mentioned visiting in the morning was not Oxford street but the city of Oxford outside London. I doubt if she had been as comfortable letting me wander off on my own had she known in the morning that I had planned an out of city excursion .
Well I was back safe and sound so she could not say much. All is well that ends well.
I think I did tell her about the unfortunate cancellation of the underground train service but left the rest of the details out of it .

https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:The_Vanderkemp_Children_G-001545-20120605.jpg


Ever since my elder daughter went off to university I am always being asked the inevitable question regarding whether I miss her or not. My answer to that is usually in the negative which comes as a surprise to some people and amuses others. But the honest truth is that I don't ALLOW myself to miss her .
I never think of her as not being around. I just think of her as being someplace else and soon to return home. But admittedly, there are moments that seep through the unseen cracks in my facade and play havoc with my emotions. Moments like when I pass through corridors of the university where she used to go, which feel strangely empty even though they are full of students, their constant chatter and activity. Same is the scenario in my younger ones case. Ever since she has been shifted to another branch I have avoided going to the turf area where she used to have her recess or the rooms where her classes were located because it tugs at my heart to know that I will not see her there. That is the biggest disadvantage of working in the same institution where your kids study or used to study. There are too many nooks and corners that remind you of their presence. (I cant even begin to think what places I am going to skip once my son goes to finish his studies. Mercifully he and I don't share the same educational institution so I am hoping that the list would be short).
My guilty confession is that I often skim through school boards to see if I can locate some old picture from any old event. And when I manage to find one of my kids, it is jack pot.
So, do I miss them?
If I allow myself to, yes.
But then I also miss the wonderful time when they were little babies and I used to rock them to sleep in my arms. I can no more turn the clock back to the time when they were dependent on me for fulfillment of every whim than keep them from moving ahead and advancing in life .
So yes, even though I do miss them and will continue to do so, the all important question is that will I ever show it and will I ever let it overpower me to the point where I will stand in the way of my children's progress?
No
Never in a million years.