Winter Break: A COVID Story

Winter break. A time when everyone and their neighbour feel it’s their duty to travel. At least they did, until the world was hit by the Coronavirus, and it became prudent to stay put wherever you are. Thankfully, I have never claimed to be very prudent. And so it was that we decided to go back home for a visit with the family, stopping over at Dubai on the way.

The first shock came when our online application of a UAE visa was denied. It had never happened before. We visit UAE at least once a year since moving from Dubai around 4 years ago. Over the last decade Dubai has been like home to us, so a rejected visa was unthinkable and unprecedented. Fortunately, we found out soon enough that some processes were changed during the last year because of the havoc caused by Covid’19.

Once it was all cleared and we managed to get the visa, our tickets became problematic. Now, these are all very minor problems from the point of view of someone who travels internationally at least 4 times a year. Or used to back in the good old days! This winter, we wanted to defy all odds and see our family after more than a year of missing them. So, we soldiered on, making plans for an epic winter break, to wash away all the woes that 2020 had brought with it.

We landed in Dubai, happy to be back home, excited to meet our family. Two days were spent in this happy haze, and then disaster struck. The new strain of the virus, discovered in the UK, became a cause of concern for other countries. As a result, Saudi Arabia closed its air space and cancelled all flights to and from the country. We could be stuck away from our home for months to come.

Amazingly enough, other people seemed more worried about us than we were ourselves. There were concerned messages and calls from people around the world, friends and family alike. I told them all one thing: Let me enjoy my break. There is nothing to be gained by worrying about something that I cannot change. I was there to have fun, not worry about what the future might hold for us.

After making the most of our week-long stay in Dubai, we made our way to Karachi. Whenever we go back home, we know that no matter how long we stay, it will always be too short. There is just too much to do, and too little time to do it. Our original plan was for 10 days, and honestly, we were hopeful that the airspace will open up by that time. No such luck.

As days passed, we started becoming a bit worried. The kids had to start school, albeit online, and the husband had his work. There are always connectivity issues in Karachi because too many people use one internet connection, and it seems wasteful to buy new connections when none of us stay there for too long. This time we had to make alternate arrangements.

Three days before our return, the airline informed us that our flight was cancelled. It was time to worry. Last year, we saw people stuck in other countries for months on end; families separated, learning to survive without each other. At least we were all together. Still, the stress levels were at an all-time high.

As luck would have it, Saudi Arabia decided to open up their airspace…on the day of our original flight! Unfortunately, that flight had already been cancelled, and we had to book a new flight back home. That proved to be another adventure since every passenger on the flights cancelled during the three weeks wanted to book the earliest flight home! Luck was with us and we managed to get a flight a week from our original date of departure. But the story doesn’t end here.

Somehow, my middle son’s booking got mixed up and he had to get a separate booking. It was all normal, until all our seats were confirmed except his. So, another round of uncertainty started where we weren’t sure if we would all stay back with him or if one of us should stay and the others leave.

This continued until two days before we were to leave. Wonder of wonders, the airline people finally realized that he is a minor and cannot travel without a guardian. But by then we were under a different threat! Karachi became the focal point of an ongoing protest. The roads were permanently blocked, and getting to the airport was downright impossible! The 20 minute journey from our place was taking 2-3 hours!

We planned and prepared for the worst, but 10 hours before we were due to fly, the protest abruptly ended. Our way was clear. It was a miracle how things were working out for us even in the most adverse circumstances. God is truly great, and works in mysterious ways. This winter became memorable for us like no other winter before.

There is a whole other story of the fainting woman in front of us, while we were boarding the final leg of our flight. And the delay in flight because someone decided to get off the flight and they had to perform a whole security check! *facepalm* But these stories will make this even longer.

I am forever grateful that we managed to spend amazing time with family after a long time. This winter break goes in the family history as one of the most happening and happy times of last year. All of us needed this end to the strangest year of our lives.

Review: A Place For Us

Rating: 4 Stars

All individuals are a unique sum of their life experiences, so much so that reading the same book at different stages in your life sometimes results in completely different reactions. The place where I am right this moment in my life made A Place For Us by Fatima Farheen Mirza resonate with me very deeply.

The book starts off with the wedding of Hadia, the eldest daughter of Rafiq and Layla. We are immediately made aware of the tensions within the family, as Amar, the youngest and only son, returns after 3 years of leaving his family, to do his duty by his sister. In all this, there is also Huda, the typical middle child, overlooked by not only by the family, but also by the author herself.

As we go back and forth in time, we are given a glimpse into the life of a Muslim couple who moves to the US from India, and try to bring up their three children according to Muslim and Indian traditions and culture. As is the case in most cases, the children all try to rebel in their own individual way.

Being a parent bringing up my kids in a foreign land, while I understand the worries of the parents and their fear of the children losing their religion, I don’t agree with trying to scare them into conforming. As this book shows, pulling the strings too tight causes them to break ultimately. When you have two children who are good at being obedient, it is natural to assume that the same mode of parenting will work on the third. Most of the time this is not so. We, as parents, know our children better than anyone else, and this is why sometimes we need to keep our egos aside and change our ways in order to avoid regrets later.

The book jumps from one time to another without any warning, and as the pattern starts becoming evident, you realize the importance of all the different instances from the eyes of three people, Hadia, Amar and Layla. We see how small betrayals and forgotten reactions all lead to the eventual breaking up of this loving family. We also see how people form opinions according their own understanding of the situation, instead of trying to find the real facts.

It is very sad that open communication is something that is lacking in most of our interactions, especially when it comes to families. In most families, the father is considered the one who lays down the laws, the disciplinarian, the person his own children are hesitant to approach. In such families, the mother assumes the role of the middleman, the one who is responsible for changing the father’s mind. No one realizes that some things are lost in translation when you have indirect communication. This can sometimes cause rifts in families that become almost impossible to breach over time.

As I read the book, there were a few instances where I felt that the writer did give in to stereotypes, and the constant strain of “The Ali Boy” was really getting on my nerves. So, I was completely ready to give this book 4 stars and move on. Then came the last part.

What was missing in the whole book was there in the last part. As I read about a man trying to do his best by his family, I couldn’t help but feel for that man. A person brought up to hide his feelings can never feel comfortable letting his emotions show. The way Mirza has written about Rafiq’s thoughts is moving and heart wrenching. The struggles of a father who is unable to voice his love for his children, are brought to life in the last part of the book. I couldn’t help but think of my own father, who while lying in bed, too sick to move, and in so much pain, was worried about how he had been unfair to his son! It all felt personal, and I want to admit that I cried while reading the last part of this beautiful book.

This is a book that is meant for everyone. I even found myself wanting my teenage son to read it even if only to understand how parents love their children in their own different ways. A beautiful book that will stay with me for a long time.

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