Dubai Musings: I love balconies

Financial woes sometimes force one to take a pragmatic rather than a romantic view of life but it’s tough to rid oneself of the romance completely. For example, I love balconies. Perhaps this has something to do with the fact that I grew up in a house with one and thus automatically assumed that it was a natural extension of one’s abode, a place to play in as a child (a dangerous sun-magnifying glass-paper burning experiment comes to mind), to communicate in secret sign language as a teenager (making sure there aren’t a 100 pairs of prying eyes watching from other balconies) and last but never least to ponder on the beauty of Dubai sunsets as an adult.

But when money rears its ugly head, all the romance of this cement and brick structure guaranteed to put a smile on your face goes straight out the window. Recently I was forced to shift from an attractive abode (with balcony of course) because of certain issues involving manipulative powers that be.

And in spite of my pride in the fact that I took a stand and walked out, six months of a forlorn, balcony-less existence later I have to admit that in future I would probably cave and submit to any demands rather than lose out on that precious few feet of space that always made me cheer up after a long, hard day.

Once you’re home, there is a sense of freedom in being able to stand outside even for a few minutes, taking in the sights, sounds and fresh air – deriving pleasure from scenes like a child dropping his ice cream on the pavement and promptly being furnished with two more by his indulgent parents, friends conversing over cups of tea, disciplined joggers taking to their daily dose of exercise and last but not least that glorious expanse of sky which at any time of the day and in any weather is supremely comforting.

Rest assured, if I’m ever lucky enough to dwell in a house with a balcony again, you’ll have to drag me out kicking and screaming.

(enid@khaleejtimes.com)