Netherlands Trip – Part 2
So, to continue this wonderful, once-in-a-lifetime experience, we left at where the most annoying and unforgettable person steps through the small, red door of the house.
Three people walked into the house, Faisal’s two brothers and his dad. The first one was Umar bhai, a person who immediately resembled an educated student, even like a professor. He later proved my assumptions right, even though he has a great humorous side as well. Umar resembled Faisal in many ways, except he was skinner, since poor Faisal gained a bit of weight during his trip to the USA. Umar was also a bit taller, and his hair was as curly as his brothers. He even had a nice, rugged beard! The person following Umar into the house was an older version of Faisal, his dad. I finally found where Faisal and Umar got their curly hair from: Even though he had only half of his hair left, there was a still recognizable curliness in his old, white hair. To be honest, at first sight, he resembled Don of the underworld, which his youngest son apparently was–Azeem. As they always say, save the best for last. That was the complete opposite for Azeem.
(Azeem deserves his own paragraph)
The last person following Uncle (I’ll mention him as Uncle from now on) was, unfortunately, Azeem. What a strange little boy. At first glance, I immediately knew he would be different from his brothers. Again, my assumption came out right later. Azeem was a few inches taller than me. He had a crazy-looking hairstyle, and he had no beard. He was a bit fat but apparently it’s just all muscle (*cough*). I had spoken to Azeem a few times before coming to Holland, and he didn’t seem like the person who I spoke to on the internet. Instead of expecting a shy boy, he was the complete anithesis of what I expected. He was outgoing, funny, and indiscriminate. As as he saw me, we hugged and met each other. The rest of our journey of getting to know Azeem goes throughout the week. I also discovered he’s a huge Bollywood fan as I am. Finally, someone in the family who appreciates some Indian culture To sum it all up, Azeem was one of those people who you couldn’t live without and you couldn’t live with. It was perfect.
As soon as we all met, Goodie pupoh immediately made us some nice, lucious chicken rice, MMMM my favorite! I guessed that my mom told her before we came, or she just had amazing psychic powers, and she read my mind. The rice was leccar (which means delicious in Dutch). Once we filled our stomachs, we went and sat down. We caught up with some old memories, and we just discussed general things.
After a few hours of that, we took a quick tour of their house, which was three stories! I found out that we would be sleeping upstairs in Umar’s room. It was a comfortable room, with enough space to fit all of us. Umar’s room had a computer, a lot of books, as well as the picture of the Shaikh, who, apparently, always watches us… creepy! Then, Assad came over, one of Azeem’s friends. I found out that he was my dad’s friend’s son; he was a pretty chill-out guy. He was nice. It wasn’t what I was expecting from one of Azeem’s friends.
Moreover, night seemed to wash over Holland in an instant. By the time we knew it, the owls started hooting. To be honest, I was getting pretty tired. It was a long plane ride, and I only slept for 2 hours on the plane. I needed to catch my 40 winks. Unfortunately, we couldn’t sleep yet: The last day for Anny bhaji’s wedding was tomorrow, and we couldn’t sleep, or we would have been tired tomorrow as well. This, as Faisal so kindly told us, was called jet lag, which is a biological clock inside your body. Ours hadn’t adjusted yet. So, we agreed to play Monopoly. It wasn’t a bad game, even though Azeem secretly cheated!
Finally, it was getting late, and Goodie pupoh forced us to go to bed. I didn’t complain. I was tired!
Before I went to sleep, the last thought that zoomed into my mind was the fact that I was glad I was here, then I slowly drifted into pleasant dreams, not knowing that the rest of my days in Holland would be one of the best days of my life.
To be continued…