Echoes of Sharjah:
A Tapestry of Sand and Sound
In 1977, the city of Sharjah emerged from a sandstorm’s embrace, revealing a transformed landscape. Amidst this, a young man’s spirit was undiminished by the swirling sands that had turned his path into a canvas of white.
Hunger gnawed at him, yet his resolve was firm: to reach home, wash away the day’s dust and sweat, and quell the pangs with a hearty meal. His stride, confident and steady, mirrored the rhythm of life around Rolla Square, where each step resonated with the heartbeat of the quarter.
Navigating the sandy thoroughfares, he deftly sidestepped the vibrant chaos of street vendors while taxi horns composed a symphony of urban life, each beeping a call for passengers. A brief respite found him at a cassette shop, where a Lebanese boy’s Arabic merged with the melodies of Tina Charles and Fleetwood Mac. A trilingual negotiation dance ensued, culminating in a triumphant exchange: two cassettes for fifteen Dirhams.
His journey resumed, winding through alleys lined with culinary havens serving up parathas, curries, shawarmas, and bread. He passed waiters, their trays a precarious tower of teacups, and Bohra-owned hardware stores standing sentinel over the streets.
The young man observed the sartorial parade: bell bottoms, shirts tucked over pants, Salwar Kameez, and the distinct attire of local Emiratis. In this male-dominated tableau, the absence of women and girls was stark.
Contemplating his past and future, he found both equally commendable, harbouring no regrets, only gratitude for the favour fortune had bestowed upon him. It was only within the solitude of his apartment that introspection took hold, though the elevator’s silence offered no fodder for thought.
He liberated a Fleetwood Mac cassette from its plastic confines, with the air conditioner’s hum as his backdrop. The music swelled, filling the space with a sound that celebrated the day’s end and an ode to Sharjah’s enduring spirit.
Subscribe to my stories https://djayasi.medium.com/subscribe
