You broke the ocean in half to be here.
Only to meet nothing that wants you.
– immigrant
salt. nayyirah waheed
We are stepping out of the movie theatre after watching Captain America. As I hand over my 3D glasses, I catch snatches of Arabic. Three young men, in Adidas tracks + baggy tees are standing there talking to the staff. All that my biased ears can hear is the start of an argument.
I am instantly transported to 16th Street, Bur Dubai. Mom and I walking back from Ms Feriyal’s, my Arabic tuition teacher’s and the taunts of “Aye Hindi!” from tall, oh-so-tall and obese young Arabs following us all the way till we reach home. Don’t show fear, I tell myself. Look down, don’t look into their eyes to confront, walk calmly but not too quick. And that’s how I walk out of the theatre.
It’s past midnight. Now there’s just 5 of us in the narrow corridor between the exit from the cinema and the mall entrance. I hear one of the 3 Arab guys asking the other to hurry. “If I’m late, my mother will kill me.”
And just like that we are all the same: young, stupid and afraid of the wrath of waiting mothers.