“Do you have your go-bag packed and ready?” I was asked in the evening the day the UAE came under attack — 28 February. Since late that Saturday morning, Dubai had been hearing booms made by interceptions in the skies, jump scares in a city where “noise” outside my apartment usually stands for blowback from insane traffic at various Marina touchpoints.

Word was officially out. We were in a “war zone”.

“My what bag?” I asked, not being facetious at all.

“You know the emergency kit you need to keep ready in case you have to be evacuated/airlifted? Passport, money, important documents and IDs, jewellery,” he explained helpfully.

I tried to imagine myself packing such a bag, and the very thought was exhausting. “No, I haven’t, and I don’t think I will,” I heard myself say. “Let’s see how this plays out.”

That night was difficult. I couldn’t stop checking my phone for scary updates from Indian and British media outlets that were orchestrating the “death of the Dubai dream” narrative on loop. Emergency alerts kept ringing out on both my phones, overriding the ‘silent mode’, while interception booms continued to rumble in the background.

I stayed awake for the most part, exchanging notes with a bunch of UAE WhatsApp contacts who were awake and “online”. “Stay away from windows, the glass might shatter” some of them advised. “Maybe you should take shelter in your building basement,” one other person said. I went and laid down on the living room couch, my living room has less glass walls, and is shielded by a broad balcony.

Over the next couple of days, when the world finally got wind of the fact that the Middle East had moved from being on the simmer to being on the boil, my phones — my UAE number and my India one — wouldn’t stop ringing or beeping. Relatives, friends, acquaintances all wanted to know “Are you okay?”

It’s tough to convince people who do not live in the UAE that “things are alright”. It’s almost like they have already made up their minds that things cannot be alright here when it comes to a “crisis situation”, and not a “feel-good” one.

So, here’s what I realized over the past few days:

• For most of the world, the UAE, and Dubai in particular, stands for safety (lack of crime, being able to keep your front door unlocked or walk around alone in the dead of the night etc) and glamour. People have no idea of the efficiency of its defense and security processes (“Oh, it’s such a small country, are they even equipped?”), its state-of-the-art technology (that goes way beyond shopping apps for luxury bags), and its rousing leadership that one needs to experience first-hand: Clearly worded statements. Zero rhetoric. Minimal drama. Quiet efficiency.

• It’s a bit foolish to imagine that at a time when the Middle East — and the world at large — is on the edge, the UAE will remain insulated simply because certain worthies claim it exists in a self-created “bubble”. It’s as much at risk as the next country; the domino effect of geopolitics is not selective.
• The media in the UAE is often criticized for being “muffled”. It’s not. It’s only that it’s not allowed to have a damaging creative licence, and instead encouraged to report facts and authenticated data.
• The lifeline of this country remains its “can do” attitude. Nothing is impossible. I’m not talking about the tallest tower or the glitziest mall, but the comforting assurances of everyday life: the metro is running like clockwork even though fewer people are out and about; SMS-es asking you not to panic are popping up from time to time; delivery services are untouched — but they are requesting for more patience on timelines since riders’ safety is being factored in; malls are open… the show is going on, this time under a safety blanket.
• When Reem Al Hashimy, UAE’s Minister of State for International Cooperation, was interviewed by CNN, she spoke of “residents” before “nationals”, and said everyone is safe. In a country where expats’ numbers overwhelm the demographic matrix, nobody is feeling like a second-class citizen — or not well taken care of enough.

I was supposed to fly out to Delhi today; I’d bought my tickets three weeks before any of this started. I cancelled them a couple of days ago. The airspace is only partially open, and there are limited flights operating so it really made no sense to take a chance.

But also, I think I wanted to stay back for some more time and see how it all devolves. I probably owe that to this country. – Sushmita Bose is Consulting Editor, NRIFocus.com