How do I even try to describe a trip to a place that was “home” for all of my childhood and adolescence? As I touched down into the warm (literally and figurately) city of Muscat, the anomaly of visiting Oman as a tourist and an adult was not lost on me…A place that I used to come back to after vacations for years had turned into a vacation spot, an itinerary and a ‘trip’ with a return date.
From the moment I saw the
familiar Omani ‘Khanjar’ emblem, a floodgate of memories opened up and I was
reduced to an emotional lump of flesh… trying to pick memories from the past
and reliving each moment to the fullest..From finding an exhilarating ‘high’
shopping for stationery in Shah Nagar Das to experiencing nirvana sipping Al
Marai orange juice – the memory tripping was taking a turn towards maniacal
obsession..
And if that wasn’t enough, here I
was walking through the corridors of my school, my apartment and my father’s
office…the places that have been witness to my childish tantrums, my adolescent
secrets, my pigtail dreams and a wholesome past that never would return – the
past that was about the protective parental halo of ‘amma and achan’.
Muscat unfurled its exotic carpet
of warmth, love like it always does – cuddling, fondling and engulfing me in a cocoon
of childish excitement.. friends, family and teachers alike hugging me back to
my past, to the protective love that is so ‘Muscatish’ and I forgot for the
moments that I was there about my adult life back in India..
A muddled itinerary of sorts was
slowly shaping up –throwing in nostalgia, touristy explorations, exuberant
shopping, culture soaking and just simple dinner conversations with all the
folks that I loved and left behind in Muscat.. Perhaps I ignored the tourist
angle of Oman while I lived there and this trip was to make amends for all that
and more - so I put on my ‘traveller shades’ and saw a whole new world of Omani
culture, natural wonders and history coming alive and beckoning me to its
midst.
Sadly, Oman has been in the
shadow of its glitzy cousin – Dubai and hasn’t got its deserving place on the tourist map of “Gulf”. The country
boasts of a rich basket of experiences to offer – from white sands, azure blue
water bodies nestled amongst majestic mountain ranges to culturally enriching
“souqs” and historic forts ;and urbane architecture that keeps its head firm in
its culture and yet doesn’t lose its ‘suave’ touch..
As if starting on a ‘executive
summary’, we started the tour with Bait al Zubair museum that gave us a quick
peep into Omani history, culture and wonders and we followed the trail to start
with old Muscat spots. The Corniche lay wide and blue ahead of us- the Gulf of
Oman staring at us with a stark combination of the old ‘dhow’ boat and luxury
ships dotting the blue waters. We then took in the intoxication of incense, spices
and silvers at the Muttrah souq where history, bargains, good steals and a
small packet of Arabic Mehndi was all won and conquered for the day.
We then ventured into the
historic city of Nizwa where we could take in the history and culture of Oman
as we awed at the Nizwa fort and savoured the gooey brown softness of Omani
Halwa at the old market. And off we were - up the Al Hajar mountains, through
winding roads of ruggedness and the mountains changing from differing shades of
browns and greys. And the zenith was just right – the temperatures dipping, the
silence mesmerizing, and the vast expanse of the mountain range and the tiny
mountain sheep truly enchanting. The journey then took us to the narrow, old ‘palm
treed’ streets of historic villages, ruins and finally ended with a coffee at
Halwa Coffee as we perched atop the café and witnessed the Arabian sun dipping
into the mountains – coy, mysterious and striking a picture that was worth all
the sweat and the climb!
Our next adventure was into the
city of Sur through a beautiful drive through the Arabian sea coast, the
pristine white pebbles flirting with the turquoise blue waters and bewitching
us. We explored a bit of the city as the evening took us to the lighthouse, the
Dhow (wooden boat) making factory and a small quaint shop with trinkets and
knick-knacks from the past..we downed a “Karak chai” at one of the million
Mallu run tea shops and was ready to head to the turtle beach for a thrilling turtle
watching experience like never before…
A small group of us walked into
the beach at night, guided by our tour guide and a small red light torch,
stumbling, falling into deep pits dug up by gigantic turtles as we waited to
witness the nesting phenomenon that moonlight night..And lady luck shone bright
on us as saw huge shelled mama turtles laying eggs, working hard through the
night to cover up and protect her offprings. And as we lingered further, voila
we got to see baby turtles just out of their eggs toddling and tottering
towards the beach! The excitement and the experience kept us awake through
midnight and we rested for the night as excited as kids.
And when I ticked off mountain,
nature, beaches, turtles, city, culture, I was ready to hang up my boots but no
this escapade wasn’t ending anytime soon..I was on the way to explore the
unique ‘sink hole’ blue waters followed by Wadi Shab and Shams – natural
emerald water pools right in the middle of the desert. And we drove right into the
thrill of the wavy patterned sand dunes of the Arabian desert…rightfully
fitting into an Arab costume and interacting with a Bedouin tribe – here we
were right in the middle of this Arabian experience – dune bashing, camel
riding and simply letting the sand trickle through my hands – a silky warmness
and my legs sinking into its softness..the glistening heat creating a mirage of
picture perfectednes..we bid good bye to the little Bedouin boy from the tent
and headed back to the city slowly becoming a part of this country like never
before..
The next few days started
whizzing by as I ticked each box off my wishlist - Oman chipsing, Twixing,
walking through the old school library, hugging teachers, giggling with
friends, conversing with friends who are family and the I fell in love all over
again with the city…like an old school crush who looked just the same but with
a bit of salt and pepper and yet the age adding to the elegance than taking
away any of the charm…the city wooed me all over again and I was just another
girl in hopeless love..
The moments of final shopping,
drinking in the culture and the farewells and wretched goodbyes and rearview
mirrors loomed large now. I tried hard not to think of the ‘end’ and continued in
an uncontrollable urge to buy random chips,cheese, chocolates and cookies from
local supermarkets, trying to gather and accumulate as much memories and
memoirs to take home…and I really thought that a packed suitcase and the
whirlwind itinerary would leave me satiated and satisfied…
What sheer ignorance of my heart’s mechanism..the love and longingness had never really gone away– it lay dormant and the trip activated it into a new frequency that hummed through my heart and starting pounding as I touched down into India. Almost like a childhood love that expanded to teenage romance and now had fixed into a permanent love in my adult heart- there was never an escape.. of the memories of home, of the love and warmth of the city and the circle of love that were and continue to surrounded me..makes me wonder why I left this place in the first place?
Homesickness had taken a new ugly turn and I was destined to live with the longingness as I touched down to the Indian soil – a few packet of chips and some trinkets the only saviour to help me stay close to this rejuvenated love..
