How to turn loneliness into sweet solitude

It is just another regular day until we spot Ketan Monani. We are on our way to Al Bastakiya when we see him sitting at the Al Mussalla Street roundabout. There is the sound of construction (from the Creek behind), traffic, and banter of tourists and residents (crossing the road). But he sits there on the grass, cross-legged with a Zen-like expression. He’s barefoot. He’s removed his black leather slippers and left them a little away from his spot, just the way he’s been doing it for the last two years. Next to him are two plastic bags — one holds a couple of white bread loaves, and the other, 2.5kg or so of wheat flour dough. Soon enough, he begins to break the bread slices into tiny pieces. Before we know it, more than hundreds of seagulls surround him. They’re here for their evening meal. As for him, we wonder what keeps bringing him back.

It’s said that one should try to hear everyone’s story — one may be surprised and inspired at the same time. And if not, one may learn to know what to be thankful for in this life. We wish to know his. He gives in with a faint smile, which suggests — wait until I am done feeding my ‘family’. We too, sit back, absorbing — from the birds melodious chirping to sights of them nibbling. Life, as seen

Life in bigger cities can get lonely. And that’s when you begin to develop a relationship with tiny beings, who don’t ask for much in return

from his spot, is unhurried and beautiful.

The 39-year-old Indian came to Dubai in 2005 to be a cab driver. In 2010, he set up his own tourism business in the city. There’s no long explanation for his one-hour evening ritual, “Good acts always translate into peace of mind.” There’s some dough for the fish at the Creek too, “They like it more.” As he sits there, he confesses it reminds him of his hometown Gujarat, where his elder brother and mother live. He shares that nobody (all this while) has ever walked up to him to know his tale. “They must have observed, though.” But then, life in bigger cities can get lonely. And that’s when you begin to develop a relationship with tiny beings, who don’t ask for much in return.

Ketan is a man of few words or perhaps he’s reserved all his words for conversations with the seagulls. We’re intruders — this is their moment. “These birds will leave soon, they’re here only between October and March,” he says with a lump in his throat. Goodbyes are always hard to say, aren’t they? But, one thing is certain, when they return — they’ll be welcomed warmly. An hour later, he leaves for his next spot, the Creek.

As for us, we found our extraordinary in the regular day.