Dubai, where my story began…

Dear Dubai,

Every time I say your name, my heart fills with pride. There’s something about you that lives inside me. I was born in you, and no matter where life takes me, I still carry you with me… proudly, deeply — a true Dubai-born desi girl.

I grew up in a different version of you - a gentler, quieter one. It was the mid — 1980s and ‘90s. There was no Burj Khalifa, no Dubai Frame, no Miracle Garden. Just Dubai World Trade Center, standing tall and proud. That was our landmark. The roads were wide and often empty. The skies were always blue. The air smelled of sand, sunshine and something warm and familiar. 

You were peaceful then. And I loved the peace you gave me. What you gave me in those years meant everything to me. You gave me my childhood. You gave me my roots. And you gave me the most beautiful woman I have ever known — my mother.  Through her you gave me love, strength and a sense of home I still carry today. 

We lived in a small apartment in Dubai Sheikh Colony, building no.5. It wasn’t just a place to live. It was a world of its own. Our neighbours felt like family. There was Moosa Uncle and Selena Aunty. There was a bakery van, a little malayali grocery store and a video cassette shop where we could get Malayalam movies. Even small things felt special back then. A box of Quality street chocolates were a treat — bright, colorful wrappers with sweet surprises inside. And Shawarma, we only had it once or twice a year, but felt like a celebration every time. We didn’t eat out much. We didn’t need to. Our happiness came from what was cooked at home, shared with love and eaten sitting together.

I still remember the early mornings and evenings — the call to prayer from nearby mosque. That sound became part of my daily life, as familiar as the rising sun. Even now I can recite the Ta’awwudh— every word, every pause. It feels like a lullaby from long ago still whispering in my heart. Dubai, you weren’t just a city to me. You were my home. You held me close. You gave me comfort even before I needed it. You helped shape the person I became. 

But then, life changed. Sharjah came into my life — and with it, heartbreak. Sharjah never felt like you. That’s where I lost my mother — my anchor, my peace. That’s where I learned how grief can change everything. Sharjah gave me pain that hasn’t fully gone away. It gave me memories I sometimes wish I could forget. If this feels heavy, I understand. But it’s my truth — and I carry it with me, always!

Dubai, you are where my story began. You were my first home, my first love. And no matter where I go, a part of me will always belong to you. 

 

With love,

A Dubai girl — always…