Back in Bahrain again after a sort of working holiday in India. The sun seemed hotter as we landed early on a Sunday, a working day in these parts. But it never got any hotter and the weather turned out just fine this last week. The schools were supposed to reopen by the end of September and this keeps getting postponed further and further away. The swine flu scare, of course! I see that among the buildings around, some have got taller literally by the day as one particular match box like structure is at least twenty storeys high now.

It has been too long a holiday for the kids and they seem bored with the extra time on their hands. As for me, I would really have enjoyed another fortnight in India, had I known about this change which was in the local papers a day after I returned.
The Navaratri celebrations had started there and the beautiful Kolu arrangements in some houses added to the festivities. Amma had been totally occupied with the arrangements of her very traditional Kolu with seven steps fully set with a variety of dolls. Some had a story theme in their arrangement.

We are planning a trip to the “LULU” mall. This particular mall is a must shopping area for the Indians here. We had so far kept clear of this dependency on the “Lulu”. Our shopping was confined to the 2km zone around the apartment. Chandra feels that we could save money by doing some bulk shopping.
I heard about Lulu even before coming to Bahrain. When my college friend Chitra came down to Coimbatore from Abu Dhabi, I was asking her about the availability of Indian groceries in the Gulf. “Shop at Lulu, you can get everything” she said.

I read some batches of other writers’ on 100words and it was interesting to see their world from their writing. Having been brought up in a traditional Palghat Brahmin family in a town close to the Kerala border in Tamilnadu, my world was different. I think my reading made me more aligned with the rest of the world.
In some countries that I have lived in, youngsters had a lot more of freedom and more responsibilities to balance it. But here in Bahrain, people appear traditional, but the general picture as reflected in their newspapers appears crude and sensational.

Krishna is strumming his guitar. I don't want him sitting before the television or at his computer after breakfast. Since it is past the summer break, I want him to read his school books for some time and to get ready for the fast second term. There’s to be school on Saturdays too. So there is going to be little time for studying once the school reopens on the 11th of October (hopefully, considering the fortnight’s delay). What with the commuting time and the school projects (mostly time consuming unnecessary work),the pressure gets to the parents too!

I get a call from a friend in Bahrain. She is concerned about the schools closing for so long here. Though her child is not in the higher classes, she is a working mother with an active child staying home for more than three months. She is lucky that her boss has allowed her to bring her kid with her to work. Another multitasking session at office!
Child friendly working places are far and few. I really cannot see myself juggling a child and office work. I have a lot of admiration for women doing so, bravely toiling on.

When the people in Chandra’s office return to work after their holiday, they bring back something edible from their country to share with their colleagues. Yesterday, Chandra brought home a fruit a colleague from Lebanon had brought back.
I have not seen it in my shopping trips here but it was an Avocado pear. In Nigeria they used to call it the English pear to differentiate it from the local pear, which was a different fruit altogether. When the pear tree was fruiting in the compound there, the children would throw up sticks to dislodge the heavy fruit.

The family had insisted that I get a blood test done to check for any irregularities and much to their surprise the cholesterol was just fine, but I got caught on the blood sugar levels. I thought I could get away but keeping on excess weight had finally caught up with me. This was two weeks into my holiday in India and everyone was generous with their advice and what not to eat. I cut down on sugars completely and went for a check up after 10 days and the blood sugar levels had increased by a couple of points.

I was a diabetic, the first in the immediate family and I thought the genes would help me here. It was irritating to be told that I had to walk more and put all else secondary to it.
The doctor was positive. He told me that probably in ten days of medication the sugar levels would return to normal. But this had to be followed by a lifetime of careful monitoring and medication.
By the time I left India, the blood glucose had reached almost normal levels and the family let me be. I carry more medicines now!

Bahrain it seems is diabetic friendly. Even our area supermarkets have sugar free bread, sugar free cookies and candies, while Lulu has a wider range with sugar free jams and chocolates. It is nice to taste the sweetness without the guilt. When I took a spoonful of almond halwa after the sugar levels had reached normal in India, I could almost picture my family members in the background chiding me. Being the youngest in my family entitles a lot of listening to without even challenging old hard formed opinions because that would mean being argumentative. Just plain support would do!

Krishna was up before six in the morning. There was a lot of enthusiasm about the first day of the second term. And the long holiday had made even school seem exciting for a change. The white cotton shirt purchased in a tiny shop in the flower market area of Coimbatore was lovingly laid out on the bed, his first full sleeved one to go with the school uniform. I wonder how they sell such good shirts at throwaway prices. It costs more to get one stitched. It just shows what good bargains are available, once you start looking around.

With Krishna at school, I have more time around the house. To spend some hours writing seems a good idea, until I realise that I have a load of housework waiting for me and then it is a flurry of activity to get the house in order and food on the table before the first of them arrive. It is four in the evening before I clear the table and wash up after lunch and it is my teatime already and on it goes.
The sky is beginning to darken by 5pm. The muezzin calls the faithful for prayers.

Krishna was getting ready for school by 5.40am. Pulled myself out of bed to get his breakfast ready and went back to get those extra 10 minutes of rest. He was almost ready when he said his stomach was churning. “Go back to the bathroom or take a Digene tablet and get ready”, I shouted as I rushed to get the lunch box ready.
Sensitivity is at an all time low when the school bus is almost at the stop. “Stay back if you are really bad” additional instructions.
I still feel guilty hours after he left.

The artificial sweeteners are too many and I realised that though it tastes like sugar, it may not have the potential syrupiness of sugar. Diwali being this weekend, I decided to start my sweet preparations with a badam (almond) halwa sweetened artificially. The preparation went on smooth till I put in the sweetener, which according to the label was to be used equal in volume to natural sugar. As I put in the sweetener, it sort of vanished instantly into my preparation without any increase in mass as would have happened if I added in real sugar. Real badam halwa??

The preparation of the savoury ribbon pakoda took almost all of the morning. With cooking and cleaning too, housework does take its toll. The family doesn’t see the toiling, as |I try to complete most of my jobs when they aren’t around and keep the house ready for another day. So I find myself repeating to Krishna whenever he takes up my time, that I have done my work for the day and will only accede to his requests, if I please. Not well taken sometimes but he gets my point, if only I do not go on.

We took another trip to LULU yesterday in the spacious Dana Mall. The Bahrain City Centre is just opposite and it seemed endless when we went to look. A paradise for shoppers! The shopping prospects are also endless and we joined the weekend crowds in the favourite pastime around here which of course must be shopping.
I can understand this addiction. The air conditioned interiors, the glass and glitter, the gold and the diamonds, the water effects all lull you into a magical world.
The credit cards postpone the realisation of money gone to a distant drab reality.

The last of the preparations was the Badam Burfi. Somehow I had been lulled into thinking Diwali was on Sunday and postponed this preparation to Saturday. When the realisation dawned yesterday, I was already tired after the endless hours of walking in the mall. So it is on Diwali day that I am preparing it to be taken to be shared with Chandra's office colleagues who are out here away from their families. It gives me a lot of satisfaction that, though I cannot eat any of my sweet creations due to diet restrictions, I can share it with others.

As the days stretch endlessly, there is not much activity for me outside the house. The Diwali days and flurried activity sort of livens you up a bit but after that?
The regularity of office life takes away your independent spirit. But life around the house also has negative points. It will be nice to find something productive and satisfying to do, apart from housework for a few hours every day. But a holiday break of two and half months when the schools close will not be possible, if I try to get regular employment. I miss India already!

My older cousin sister still lives in the peaceful village of Krishnapuram, in Nemmara. Every holiday in India includes a visit to her house. In the spacious backyard of her house are huge trees and a variety of beautiful flowering plants and herbs. Some of the trees have been planted by my maternal grandfather who lived there decades ago. The old house he lived in has been replaced by a modern one, but my cousins still retain the trees he lovingly planted. My mother would say the fruits of these particular trees, were the sweetest and best tasting fruits ever.

Vitamin D deficiency was a problem for the colder part of the world, we thought. In thickly populated cities of warmer climes, people staying in the confines of air conditioned offices and homes are lacking in this readily available vitamin.
I was visiting a neighbour in the opposite part of our building and she told me that as her flat was hemmed on two sides by neighbouring sky rises, two rooms of her apartment did not get sunlight at all. The interiors of most buildings here are closed to the outside world and lit artificially 24 hours a day.

I sent in an article for my school’s Golden Jubilee magazine. I never went back to school after I completed. I didn’t feel I belonged there anymore. Now after thirty two years, I am getting into murky waters, when I delve into the memory hold, to salvage pieces of my childhood.
It was the same with college. Once I graduated, I put it behind me. Though I went back once to meet friends, I felt like an outsider. That feeling of belonging to an institution is lost, once you are out of it, at least for me.

There is pressure on the students after the break of two weeks, added to the two and half months annual holiday. There is homework, projects to be completed and studying to be done after a regular school day. This might be more than eight hours, if you include the commuting time to school. And they are going to have an extra working day on Saturdays, to make up for the time lost. So one day of rest during the week, on Fridays. That leaves them very little time to relax or play; isn’t this a part of childhood too!

It is a Friday morning, the weekly holiday. I have scheduled Krishna’s study and play time, so that he can complete studying and still have time for himself. The morning session of Hindi revision is making a slow start. I am not involved in it; the father takes over here. Have to keep Krishna on track. There is just three weeks before the half yearly exams and I do not want him to struggle at the end. They are rushing to complete the portions at school. And expect the parents to help the children to cope. Teachers by compulsion!

Krishna woke up grumbling about school on Saturday. It was usual to have school some Saturdays in India. But he has sort of got used to the two day break here, on Fridays and Saturdays. I think that up to the ninth standard, a two day break every week is good for the children. Even a four day school week is enough, for the hasty teaching sessions that are regular at most schools. School on Saturday, is just to satisfy the rules on the number of compulsory working days for schools. It does not in any way benefit the child.

Krishna came home with a headache. I was thinking further. Should I keep him back from school tomorrow? I really do not want him to miss school. At the rate they are rushing, I want him to be aware of what he needs to study. In situations like this, I prefer the schools where printed notes are handed out. I can teach him if necessary.
Today,he was just fine; just late waking up. I rushed him and in half an hour, he was at the bus stop. He was also the first to reach the bus, as usual.

There is a problem about what to pack in the lunch box. In Nigeria, the school used to specify that no lunch should be sent with the students, only snacks for break time. In India, it was lunch that had to be provided, for the schools work full day.
Here though the schools work up to only 2pm or just a bit later, the commuting time of over one hour delays lunchtime. To carry lunch in an already overloaded school bag is not a preference. So something to snack and then back home, it puts them off lunch too.

There was a program on TV, a competition between three teams with two contestants in each team, a mother and her daughter. The teams were always correct, the mothers’ totally supportive of their daughters and the daughters’ always meek and obedient.
I wonder how far this goes, in an ideal world. Obedience, this does not prepare them for the real world. Obedience is a submissive trait that can be exploited. You have few ideal situations and every situation warrants different responses. Basically, you advise them to stay true to themselves and stand up to protect their rights, wherever necessary.

It is my niece’s 25thBirthday. Being closer to fifty now, I think more fondly about birthdays. I do not think my birthdays were celebrated,except for the payasam on the star birthday, which was usually a few days before or after the actual birthday.
I should have enjoyed it a lot more. Splurged a bit on myself, taken time off to do something I really enjoyed and generally should have planned ahead to make every birthday great. I didn’t even plan the 48th one, but my almost eighty year old mother invited me for a Birthday lunch.

There are some old Tamil magazines, left by a former tenant. The caretaker told us, that this apartment has been occupied by Chennai Tamils, for the past ten years before we came.
In my spare time, I have been into these magazines. They are a bunch of women's magazines with interesting and thought provoking articles.
The lady of the house, who bought them, probably from the Tamil magazine store in Manama, was an independent thinker, for sure. And a serious reader, by the collection she left behind. She has provided me many hours of relief, from serious boredom.

A friend sent a link to a writing website. A novel to be written in a month’s time! Another word limit to be reached, so vast that it almost seemed limitless; 50000 words!
Should I or should I not!
I have to spend almost all my spare time on it. I don’t want a plot or an imaginary tale. It had to be bits and pieces of my experiences, which added to my imaginative ramblings, could be a fifty thousand word piece. Just two thousand words a day is not very difficult.
A Novel in twenty five days.

It is a bit too much too soon. You have to send a fifty thousand word essay or novel in one piece. I find it a bit too much to digest. To write a few hundred words everyday and transfer it to the safekeeping of somebody else is just as I like it. But the very thought of holding and keeping safe a fifty thousand word document is nerve racking. My son suggests that I make a copy of it on his pen drive, though it will take away a lot of his space. I am ready for any assistance.