I looked down from the aircraft and Iall I could see was a vast expanse of grey desert surrounded by clear turquoise water. In the middle of it all was a speck of man made oasis consisting of skyscrapers and a landscaped city.

'Welcome to Qatar?' I said to myself.

I remembered the day when we received our posting orders to Qatar. ‘Where on earth is Qatar' we said and frantically looked for it in the Atlas. And viola there it was!! A tiny peninsula, protruding into the Arabian Gulf, sharing its land border with Saudi Arabia. Its total area is 11,437 sq km, slightly bigger than the size of Tripura. A country where the expatriate population is much more than local Arabs (40%) and where a litre of mineral water costs 1.5 Qatari Riyals (approx Rs. 18) but a litre of petrol costs only 50 dirhams (approx Rs. 6).

Doha, the capital of Qatar was to be our home for the next three years. We landed there during the month of May. The heat hit us the moment we stepped out of the cool airconditioned comfort of the airport. The whole country was like a giant solar cooker and for the first time we knew what it was like to be roasted in an oven.

Our first requirement was a residence permit. The immigration office was a small rundown building with a separate ladies section. My first experience of communicating with a pair of eyes was pretty unnerving. In case you are wondering, the rest of the body and features were hidden behind the black 'abaya' or burqa as it is known in India. As I was tossed from one counter to the other I got the opportunity to interact with several pairs of eyes made up with a whole spectrum of eye make up. Women of different nationalities waited patiently, for a series of medical tests, as if waiting for their board results. After a few days we were given the legal permit to reside in the country. We were formally introduced to the Indian community of Doha at a party at the residence of the Indian Ambassador where we met the middle aged socialite women of Doha flaunting their pea sized diamonds, n o s e r i n g s a n d b r a i n s…n o t necessarily in that order.

The food was a mix of kababs, chilly chicken and ….hold your breath ….. bhelpuri!!!

Who says India is loosing its multicultural touch?

Conversations at the ladies side (did I mention that the ladies and gents were promptly segregated on arrival in keeping with the local tradition?) ranged from a comparative study between life in Dubai, Muscat and Qatar to the merits and demerits of Indian system of education versus the American system.

The society ladies decided to take me, their newly arrived poor country cousin, under their ample wings and teach me a thing or two about life in the golden triangle (Dubai, Muscat and Qatar of course).

We had finally arrived!!!

Anybody who was somebody in Doha had to be a member of 'Doha Club' (The club has since been demolished to make way for a high profile resort). Going through the membership form my eyes scanned the mandatory requirements like 'name', 'occupation', 'number of family members' etc and stopped at 'number of extra wives'. Cool isn't it?