Dubai, a place with no generic culture of its own. A place where it is normal to bump into people from any and every cultural background. A place I truly consider home. People of all race’s live here with each other harmoniously. No discrimination, No RACISM. Having lived in Dubai all my life, I was sure that racism was just a mere myth until I came across it myself, not as a witness but as a victim.
It was just another regular day(or so I thought) School had been boring as usual and there were no signs of an incoming tornado that was supposed to relieve us of our classes. The minutes crept by slowly till the lunch hour arrived. Once the lunch hour was upon us, the sand in the hour glass seemed to drift away faster than Road Runner running away from Coyote on a rocket launcher.
It was the usual scene in the school cafeteria. Boys lugging over each other, fighting to place their order before others, Girls on the other side pointing and giggling at God knows what or who. Not wanting to get myself involved with the Gridiron gang for a place in the line I awaited my chance at the back . After about 30 minutes and 22 seconds(dramatized time, not to be taken seriously) I stood second in the line, still waiting to place my order. This is when things started going awry. The School Bully who usually has his cronies buy food for him shows up and cuts in front of me. Not being the one to be pushed about, I bravely confronted him, not knowing what I was getting into. This small issue soon turned into a heated argument which eventually got us kicked out of the cafeteria. But the fight wasn’t done yet, the verbal argument continued about what had just taken place. The Bully was no easy pushover by any means. He was known to get physical to have his way and had ties to lowly scum gangs, creating a sense of fear among his peers. He was also famous for being the only Anglo-Indian in the school, a fact that was a source of immense pride for him. The fight continued, none of us were going to back out of this one, this duel stretched on for a further 15 minutes before the scumbag did something no one had ever expected. He called me a ‘brown golliwog’. I fell to the floor laughing. This guy here was actually calling me a brown ‘golliwog’. I reiterated by saying he shouldn’t say things he didn’t know or had heard in some random TV show. Taken aback by this unusual response he blurted, “stupid Indian cunt”. This time the small crowd that had gathered around us also laughed. The Bully was shame faced. No matter which nation his mother was from, he was still Indian. He had been outdone in his own game. The fight had been won.
Moral of the story: If you are going to be a racist, be a good one so we good people can report you and ensure you get punished for it. An Indian reporting another Indian for calling him Indian, doesn’t look very pretty does it? Laughing at you Racists does not satisfy me, I want to cause you considerable damage through our judicial system which can only happen if you do it properly.