Thahab, Thahab
Inspired by Deepak Unnikrishnan’s “Taxi Man”, from Temporary People
Photographed by the photographer and artist, Amna AlAmeri.
2:56 PM. INCOMING PHONE CALL FROM "بنتي الحلوة"
“Aloo, Al-Salam Aleikum. Halla, Maria. How are you? I’m good, alhamdillah. Where are you? Oh, that sounds nice. Are you getting any assignments done? Good! Alhamdillah, I’m glad to hear that. Your old mama just left university, too. I had a meeting with a professor on a project—I think I might need your help on that one, by the way. I haven’t been in academia since I gave birth to you and can barely read five pages now. It’s so hard! Thank you, my dear. Yes, I’m almost home. Interview me? What for? What do I know about the Gold Soug, bnti? I rarely go there—your grandmother and aunt Nouf are the experts… Fine. What do you want to know? I might be able to help.
Oh, it’s very easy to get there. Are you planning to go today? Okay, okay, nice. Can you check if the store Al Faheem—don’t forget, Al Faheem—can you check if they still sell the very heavy gold bracelets that babies wear when they are born? Okay, thank you, bnti.
Okay… So, if you’re driving past the Turkish restaurant by the beach, towards the roundabout by Sharjah Ladies Club, take the second exit past the club, and then when you reach the second roundabout, take the second exit again, and then another roundabout and also another second exit. Then you will drive past Sharjah Islamic Museum and then past Sharjah Art Foundation, past the big, blue, beautiful mosque. Anyway, drive past Sharjah Art Foundation and towards the ibtasim, anta fe al shariqah roundabout. Did you know that this is the ‘center’ of the city? I think your brother told me that—he knows everything about the infrastructure of this country. You’ll reach another roundabout, second exit again. Drive past the birds and animals’ market—your father also told me that they’re renovating that by the way. They wanted your brother to run that project, but I don’t think he enjoys spending time around animals. Besides, he is more about the fast city life, like in Dbay. You should drive past the cemetery next to the market and then past the bus station next to the cemetery—whoever placed those three places next to each other is crazy, your brother always says. Anyway, take the exit up the bridge and then the first exit after the bridge and boom, you’re there. It’s very easy to get there. It’s called the Central Soug--don’t forget that…
Habeebti, it’s not my fault you can’t remember! Just download the map on Google application and you will find the way.
Park somewhere close to the door of the Markazi soug. It’s too hot for you to be walking outside; you will get pimples. Some car-washing employees might ask you if you want the car washed, but kindly decline. Your brother does the washing at home every Friday morning and you shouldn’t waste money on that. The Markazi soug has two main buildings connected by an indoor bridge. The building to your right will be the gold soug. Don’t forget to take a picture of the beautiful architecture of the soug before going in, for your interview, of course. People call this soug the Blue Soug because of its pretty architecture. Did you know that it was built in 1978? It is only one year older than me! That makes me feel old. A British architect created it, but Sheikh Sultan, Allah yehfathah, led the project. You can see his involvement in Sharjah through this landmark, mashallah. Your brother told me all about this. Maybe you should talk to him about the soug, for your project.
Anyway, enough of me babbling about old things. Do you know how to get there? Are you sure? The stores with the best gold there are Mohan Lal, Abdulla Shaheen, and Aljadeera. No, no, not Aljazeera, Aljadeera… What ice cream? Oh, the one-dirham ice cream! It’s now 3 dirhams, can you imagine? Things are getting so expensive, but we cannot complain, alhamdillah. But please don’t eat that ice cream. You used to like it when you were younger. It’s not clean. Promise me you won’t eat it. Okay? Okay. Yalla, take care my dear, ma’a el salama.”
3:33 PM. VOICE NOTE NOTIFICATION FROM "بنتي الحلوة"
“Halla mama. I just arrived to the Thahab Soug, but I’m very confused and lost. A bit worried, too. I tried calling you, but you did not pick up. Please pick up as soon as you hear this. Shukran.
The last time you brought me here was when I was twelve years old. I don’t remember the employees in the gold stores ever wearing clown costumes. I would’ve been traumatized for the rest of my life if I had that memory from when I was twelve, mama. One of the clowns must’ve recognized me as your daughter and started calling my name from across the soug’s main plaza! WAllah ya mama, I was so scared that I couldn’t even breathe. When was the last time you came to the soug? Was everyone dressed up as clowns when you came last? How did that man know I am your daughter? Do you show people pictures of me? Why in the world did you not mention the clown situation to me?
Okay, I’m going to calm down now…
After I arrived, I went to Mohan Lal because you told me you know the employees there. So, I went there to see if they can help me and explain what in the world is going on in the soug, and they were also dressed up like clowns! They also had rabbits, I think five rabbits, jumping around the store, lying down on piles of gold necklaces, and even pooping in the earrings display window of the store! Next to the traditional Emirati gold at the right of the entrance, the men had set up a food corner for rabbits to eat, and it was a big mess. I saw a rabbit nibbling on a big gold piece of a merta’sha--the same one you bought for your sister’s wedding last month. Remember when I used to beg you to buy me a rabbit when I was five? I don’t want that anymore. Mostaheel! They look so evil with all that gold surrounding them.
Anyway, mama. I asked one of the men in Mohan Lal if he knew you. I, um, I asked the tall man with a long, grey beard and a shaved head. I think his name was Haseeb. When I asked him if he knew Marwa, my mother, his face literally turned red! He got so angry, I thought he was going to kick me out of the store. I thought he was going to let one of his hungry rabbits attack me. He was so angry. I asked him what the problem was, and he said that you were the reason this was happening to them?
I’m so confused, mama. What did you do? He said that a few weeks ago, you put a suggestion in the big brown suggestion box, the one by the east entrance, that the employees should be given clown costumes as uniforms? He says one of the men from Al-Faheem told everyone this, that you were joking with him about how no one ever checks the suggestions box, so nothing ever changes in the soug. He says that you told everyone in the store that you’ll write a crazy suggestion to prove that no one ever looks at the suggestions. If this story is true, then guess what, mama, someone ACTUALLY checks the box! I can’t even believe that they considered this horrendous suggestion. Did they think it would attract younger audiences? I see a good number of children running around today… Everyone in this entire soug is so angry at you. I think you should kiss your gold soug privileges goodbye because everyone knows who you are, and they all hate you now! They’re all giving me death glares. Oh god, I won’t get out of here alive.
Don’t get angry at me for sending you a three-minute long V-N, because I am angry at you for not telling me that this place has become an episode of my nightmares! When I come back home, you and I have to sit down and talk about what we can do to fix this situation. Maybe we can explain to the authorities that you were joking when you suggested this horror. Mama, this place is so awful right now I don’t think I can ever step foot here again.”
(Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Pause. Exhale.)
“You know what? I’ll close my eyes and count to three, and then I’ll take a deep breath, walk out of this circus, and pretend that none of this happened.” (Inhale.) “Okay. One. Two.” (Exhale.) “Three…”
“Bismilah Al Rahman Al Raheem. A’ootho billah. What the hell? It’s all back to… normal? I don’t--I don’t see any clowns. I don’t see any rabbits. No one is staring at me. It’s very quiet and ordinary--real-life ordinary. I… I don’t understand. It’s either I’m losing my mind or… yes, I’m losing my mind. But you know what? I’m not complaining. It’s back to normal. I can just walk out and really pretend like this didn’t happen. You know what, don’t call me back. THIS didn’t happen. I was just hallucinating--I mean, all I had today was an espresso. It was probably the coffee messing me up. Don’t call me back. In fact, I’ll delete this voice note, because this was just a hallucination and it did NOT happen.”
3:40 PM. MESSAGE DELETED BY SENDER.
Maitha AlSuwaidi is a student at NYU Abu Dhabi, majoring in political science and minoring in creative writing. She is a writer, spoken word poet, and performance artist. She started writing stories and poetry at the age of nine and today, she hopes to spread awareness about topics she is passionate about such as mental health awareness through writing articles as a columnist at Sail E-Magazine or through writing poetry and performing spoken word in various platforms including Rooftop Rhythms and NYC’s Bowery Poetry Club and the Nuyorican Poets Cafe. In performance art, she was a lead actress in a production of bilingual poetry titled “Al Raheel / Departure”, commissioned by the Cultural Foundation and NYUAD Arts Center. You can find her on Twitter (@maithaAHS) and Instagram (@mai.thah).