Returning home for good is very different from going home for a short holiday. When you know you will be going back to the UAE, it is easy to ignore the inconvenience of chock-a-block traffic, bad roads and even power cuts. But once you are back home for good, it is a different story. You know you will have to learn to adjust and be more forgiving of what seems a hard life relatively speaking. I suppose acceptance is the key to being happy wherever you are but right now, the road ahead looks daunting.
The decision to leave Dubai and go home for good was made after much thought. I knew that the longer I put it off, the harder it was going to be to make the transition. I used to hear former colleagues speak of the wonderful time they had when they went home and yet none of them decided to go back. I was always sceptical of the rosy pictures they painted because I was aware that being in a place where you know your stay is limited is quite different from acquiring permanent status there.
I pictured myself taking it easy for a while on my return after decades of working to deadlines. But it was not to be. I had not taken into account the time needed to get into shape a flat that had been left empty for some years. If things had been left to me, I would have relaxed for a while and then started making my place habitable.
And then there was my brother. He was determined not to let me procrastinate. A former brigade commander, he was bent on getting this one-woman army to start moving. Calls were made and I soon made a pleasant discovery. One no longer had to look for carpenters, plumbers and electricians separately. Now there are one-stop companies that provide all these services under one roof.
On day one, my flat was swarming with these workers. They looked around, checked every nook and cranny and then submitted their estimates. A timetable was drawn up next, to fix who started work first. The estimates were scrutinised by the brigade commander who proceeded to question the workers, asking them to justify their prices. There was something about his no-nonsense tone of voice that made them fall into line.
Soon the flat was a hive of activity. It was a promising start. The only problem was that when I was left in charge, the men began to pressure me to pay them before the dates set. They could sense I was fair game. I got out of that sticky situation by calling my brother and letting him loose on them. Peace was soon restored.
But it was too good to last. In week two, some of the workers didn’t turn up. They were not answering their phones either. Later, when we did get through, we learnt that they had to rush to their village for some emergency or the other.
Then the brigade commander decided he had taught me the ropes of manpower management and decided to take off for a holiday. However, he knew me too well and my penchant for relaxing. So, he drew up a timetable of tasks to be accomplished in his absence.
Surprisingly, the one-woman army had learnt the importance of falling into line and, when put to the test, managed pretty well. There were hiccups along the way with recalcitrant workers and inexplicable disappearances, but I am proud to say that things are moving along smoothly.
The possibility of my moving into my flat soon looks like a more realistic goal. Meanwhile, the sister with whom I am staying must be counting the days ...
Vanaja Rao is a freelance writer based in Hyderabad, India.
