Yesterday night just after 10pm Chandra called in excitement and it was raining. Rather heavy drizzling!
Today morning it is cooler and the wetness of the ground gives it a new look altogether. The birds are enjoying the cool wet breeze, after the heat of the past two days. It was beginning to feel like summer.
The annual exams for Krishna are drawing closer. The insistence on some extra hours of study, have to be negotiated calmly.
After spending a few hours on the net with the family yesterday evening-Saturday evening is talking time, it is back to chores today.

The drizzle lasted the whole of yesterday, sometimes heavy, leaving giant puddles on the ground. Caught in one of the stronger showers of rain, an Arab in his Thoub and head scarf rushed towards the Gosi, his pointy white shoes unsuitable in this weather. Their garb is for the sandy desert not for rains!
The children came back from school after the rain stopped, a bit disappointed, but still delighted to jump over the puddles. They would have happily splashed about in the water if not for the mothers’ watching them from the windows, glad that they were not wet.

One popular local newspaper has a letter page, sometimes two pages of letters which are more interesting and informative, than the content of the newspaper itself. I think it would sell better on more pages of letters.
Last year the letter writers were a minority, keen on settling personal scores with each other on particular topics. The letter writers’ grew and the quality of writing got more interesting. The latest topics the banning issue and the cases of runaway housemaids have produced some fine vitriolic writing. Even Krishna glances at the headlines and sports and gets focused on the letters.

It was after 8.30pm that we started to the Aswaq supermarket for our weekly vegetable shopping. It was chilly after the warmth of the house. The roads were less crowded and we were walking briskly.
The” loudsters” of the road were more than present screaming to each other, one man riding with his whole upper body raised above the car door. The only consolation was as Chandra assured me, this lunatic wasn’t driving.
A lot of smokers were about and Chandra was annoyed at the amount of secondary smoke we were inhaling. The Sheesha café was crowded increasing our concern.

I have an early lunch while Krishna has his lunch last as he comes back from school by 3.30pm. Chandra has his lunch anytime before he leaves for office again at 3pm. Krishna’s lunch is a one hour session as he reads while he eats.
Chandra is of the strong opinion, that lunch should be enjoyed without the distraction of books. But he watches the TV while eating. I do not mind Krishna reading over lunch, so long as he doesn’t take one hour. It is during the weekends when we sit for lunch together, that the issue crops up.

For Krishna to study Hindi for his exams takes time and a good dose of persuasion. He got started on the language, only in the second grade after a few years in a local convent school in Asaba, Nigeria.
The school was up to the primary level and the KG3 class was in a different location from the main school. There were three rooms in this old location with a huge compound and big trees. Early in the morning, when I went to drop Krishna at school, I could see Fulani herdsmen graze cattle on the riverbank behind the classrooms.

The problems of maintaining a house in India, when you are away, reach you on the net. The watchman goes on leave; the sweeper creates a problem while the maid doesn’t seem to like the watchman’s attitude. My almost eighty year old mother is on a short holiday, so the problem solver is missing from the scene.
My ever so present blood pressure seems to be getting the upper hand, when the net comes handy, as my mother reaches me from Bangalore.“ Oh! It’s only a week here. Things will straighten out when I get back “, she assures me.

The ebony black couple strode into view. It was in Asha’s house, opposite my mother’s house in the late 70’s. Their bullock cart with the majestic white beasts stood outside the gate. She is Marudha said Asha and with her is her husband Muthu. They are from a village and they have come to town with their bullock cart, to eke out a living. The smiling villager and her silent husband would be seen around for many more years.
In the 90’s Marudha lost her husband and the bulls together in a fatal crash with a truck. Her smile vanished.

She now sweeps the yard for people who need her help. When she is at her best, the yard is fit enough to sleep on. She does such a good job. But in her darker moments after a peg of whatever she indulges in, she is known to have spoken harshly about the world around her. There is a Jekyll and Hyde personality in human beings’. This is one topic that requires a lot of thought. A bit of kindness and understanding goes a long way. This is a little history about the yard cleaner. You are a survivor, Marudha!

The University girls come differently dressed. The traditional dressers in the Abaya(almost tent like black robe) and Shaylah(covering the head and neck), fully covered but for their faces and the more forward ones with the Shaylah but without the Abaya. A few, dress up normal as in the non Muslim world.
The women whom I see outside are mostly of two types. The ones with full body covering but the face uncovered and the ones totally covered with only their eyes exposed. And a rare few with their eyes covered, seeing the world through a small patch of black lace.

At mid morning, from the window overlooking the car park, I see a multitude of people. The Filipinas dainty and in a hurry, the Caucasians ruffled in the heat and looking serious, the Arabs casually greeting each other with a hug and a peck on the cheek and the Indians and other Asians generally ignored by the locals.
The Arab men are generally clean shaven much to my surprise, when I landed here. I expected them to look like the Taliban, who were in the Indian newspapers with regularity, when a hijacked Indian Airlines flight was grounded in Qandahar, Afghanistan.

Krishna has gone to write his Hindi exams. Hindi being the national language of India, the average north Indian is shocked, when he finds out that a large percentage of Tamils from south India, do not write or speak Hindi. This percentage included me.
I picked up a smattering of Hindi, when living in Nigeria from the north Indian community. I wanted Krishna to learn Hindi and blend into India, without having to explain being south Indian. The politicians from south India who boycotted Hindi,carry a fair share of the blame. There is a growing trend to correct this.

I am putting out the washed clothes on the lines in the balcony. The balconies here,never look out on the road. The service balcony is right above the lane, but blocked from the world with cement work in honeycomb pattern.
It is mid morning and there is traffic on the road. The base of the balcony seems to vibrate with the movement of some big car or a pick up. And when the motorists react to some blockage with a rude blast of horns, I am quite deafened and retreat to the kitchen. The kitchen door trembles in resonance!

The week before the exams is a busy one for most Indian parents’ for included in every day is a time slot for revising the exam portions with the children. It is a tough going out there for the young men and women heading out to prestigious Institutions. The going gets tough and so training starts early.
A lot of advice about hard work, early preparation, careful reading and efficient writing goes in. I have seen tyrants and dragons revealed among parents’.
There is a fair share of drama in our household; we want the best for our only child.

The Gold Link scam is causing a stir among the working expat community. An amount in multiples of ten is collected directly from the workers or office goers, by an agent of Gold Link and they issue a receipt. These coupons or receipts can be used to buy gold at selected outlets. In India, these types of scams surface with regularity and the wary public generally avoid them.
This was run by an expat westerner in Bahrain and this is a small island to run away and hide. The company has shut its doors and people are clamouring for justice.

Science and Social are dealt with seriously, Maths with devotion, English casually apart from Hindi which had been tackled hard. Being the homemaker, I carry most of the responsibility relating to school. Hindi guidance comes from Chandra, who had spent most of his adult life in Bombay and had gone through the struggle of learning Hindi in Junior college, after arriving there from rural Tamilnadu.
My education had been confusing. Graduating in Maths as the family recommended and going on to get a Masters in English out of interest; joining the bank because nobody refused a good job, those days.

There was a whooshing sound outside the window and I peered out. The huge ten storied building adjoining the car park was being washed from the outside. There was a lone Indian standing on an aluminium cradle, suspended from the top of the building holding a water hose and he was cleaning the exterior of the first floor.
News of work site accidents’ appears every other week in the newspaper. The high rise constructions, take a toll on the young men who come here to make a living. Faulty and unsafe equipment and rules being flouted add to the problem.

I am trying to clear doubts in English grammar for Krishna with the Wren‘s Elementary Grammar book. I seem to be learning a lot more now; about transitive and intransitive verbs and the difference between a phrase and a clause. I had a thicker version at school which was hardly used.
This book was a find in the forty year old home which we bought in India. The previous owner, a doctor had an only son who is now in his retirement age. From the book, we know of the convent he studied in and the class he used it.

Do we go or do we stay here? This is a question every expat family has to deal with in a foreign country. You do not want to waste another year trying to decide.
I thought it was our problem, till I spoke to other expat wives. Even those who have stayed here for over a decade say it is always on their mind. When there are school going children, the decision gets a bit complicated.
The decision making time is after the annual exams, when one year in a new school in another country, has been successfully dealt with.

A friend had asked me whether I felt different having a school going kid, when most of my friends’ had grown up children in the college/work age. Having a child just starting on his teens, when I am edging towards the half century is not different to me.
I do not know how it feels, for I haven’t reached there yet. We are happy around each other. He likes me telling him old stories. I read Enid Blyton and enjoy it as much as him. We have our arguments and I tend to be snappy. The blood pressure, of course!!!

The exams will be over today and a little part of me feels a bit of relief. But an emptiness looms ahead, as I think over the amount of time that I will now have, till the next exams of course. It seems I am more obsessed with the exams and the preparation. Some control issues here, perhaps!
The children are into planning their week’s holiday. Today, right after the exams they are heading to a friend’s house. Tomorrow the friend visits them here, in our apartment block. And on Monday, it is an evening together at a different location.

Saturday, I was at the computer by 4pm. Switched on the talk. My mother was around they could hear me but I couldn’t hear them. After twenty minutes my sister came online from Vermont. Same problem there, she couldn’t hear them. A loose wire was corrected and India was back loud and clear.
I spoke to India and went to finish up a few jobs while my sister and mother spoke. I came back, one niece was online. Then back to my sister, then a chat with her daughter in Pennsylvania. A school friend from Coimbatore came online. Gosh 7.30pm!

When your home town and your family begin to appear regularly in your dreams, a trip back home is due. Our holiday is months away during the summer, when the heat is intense and it feels as if you are close to a fire you cannot get away from.
The temperature is rising every week and by June you clearly know where you are – in the desert, of course! The clothes dry out faster, the mopped floor dries up in under a minute and your wet hair dries quicker. The sun is always there glorious and bright enough to dazzle!

I spend a considerable amount of time indoors; there are times when I forget in which country I am. A look outside the window or some harsh jarring sound brings me back to an almost boring reality. I don’t really have much of a life outside the apartment here. The routine is of two kinds to suit a working day or a holiday for the rest of my family. I could walk out for some shopping during the day but the sun deters me. To spend the evening walking is more pleasant and I should find a way for that.

The newspapers bring tidings from the neighbouring famous kingdom with regularity. Every other week, I see a small column with some title like beheaded or executed. This is the punishment meted out for a serious crime like murder. But it sort of jolts you to the reality of a place, where age old laws still exist.
The death sentence in India is handed out in rare cases where the extent of cruelty in the crime is extreme. I dislike the thought of anybody being put to death even dictators.
But over a hundred people put to death in one year????

Another drastic measure might be on the way. The regulation if approved would allow telecom companies to spy on phone calls, e-mails etc. and collect data on people if necessary. A big brother watching you! Not a pleasant thought!
I think these countries are getting stifled by their regulations. The schools are still co-educational here unlike some of the so called more progressive countries, in the Gulf which still ban co-educational schools. I am nervous, that they may introduce a dress code for women if this sort of road is taken. Watch what you say, Big brother may be watching!!!

Hanging the washing in the balcony, I overheard a Tamilian family walk in downstairs. The granny had just reached Bahrain (deciphered from the loud talk). There was praise, from the “stayers’” here to the “arrivers’” of Bahraini roads and how much more a litre of fuel will take them on these roads. Probably true!
India is great in so many ways. A lot of the problems are due to the elected representatives being corrupt. We elected them. Unless the educated and responsible people took it into their hands, to teach the masses to elect responsibly, we have ourselves to blame.

There is a tiny bookshop we go to for Indian magazines. We started the walk early in the evening towards Gudaibiya. There was chillness in the air as we passed the water fountain and the sheesha café.
The shop is small, just half the size of a town bus. Magazines hung about in decorative pattern. I entered the shop to look at the stacked up old book collection. Chandra waited patiently behind me as I removed stack after stack of books for a thorough search. Patience paid out and I had eight books for the price of one new book.

There are six flats in this floor the first. When I open the front door, I see another door opposite ours, in the passage. No activity there during the week apart from the cleaners of the flat.
But during the beginning of the week, there is a flurry of activity as if there is an event about to take place. A lot of pans and pots are cleaned from the noises, I hear. The smell of cooking wafts into my kitchen as I open the balcony door.
A group of older men from the neighbouring kingdom use it for partying.

I had a nightmare. I was back at school and had gone out of class when the teacher wasn’t around. When I returned, one of the accepted dragons from my college days was there supervising. Of course, she wouldn’t even hear my explanation.
Everything about the dream was authentic including the classrooms, classmates and other teachers except the dragon lecturer from my college. The thought of how she managed to creep into a school dream and spoil it for me, amazes me.
I have had examination nightmares, but at college I was one of the calmest during the university exams.

The results and the marks were given at school but not the papers. A hot debate arose about a few missing marks in Maths. As the top priority subject in the family, Chandra insisted on Krishna working out the whole paper at once.
I wasn’t going to take a stand on any issue without the evidence, the answer paper. After a late day at office, Chandra started correcting the worked out paper and there was just a couple of marks on an out of portion sum that we conceded. A talk with the teacher is necessary. Now to class eight!