The first day of the New Year dawned bright and sunny. It is not a working day being a Friday, the weekly holiday. We did not see the blue moon because of the clouds yesterday night, when Bahrain was to have witnessed one. Chandra and Krishna did venture out to the Gosi car park to get a clear sight of the skies, but returned without seeing the so called blue moon. We stayed up till 11pm watching the New Year programs on TV. I could hear the pitter-patter of raindrops on the AC cover as I went to sleep.

I am not keen on going to the theatres to watch movies. But the enthusiasm with which the family spoke about “Avatar” sort of tempted me. The forests in which the movie was shot reminded Chandra of the book “Green Mansion” by W.H. Hudson, he said. Krishna tried to tell me the story. The numerous times I interrupted him, to ask questions made him go to his ipod and read out the story from Wikipedia. It was interesting and different. I do not think anything will absorb me as much as “Green Mansion” did, when I first read it.

The first day of school after the holidays and I look out of the window as Krishna walks to the bus stop on a chill wintry morning. The trees around the Gosi car park have tenaciously come up after the drastic cutting trend of the last season. Their rich green foliage enjoying the warm sunshine and glittering green gold makes me happy. The new sky rise creation on the horizon has grown up, almost as tall as the mosque’s minaret and is a definite blot on the horizon. A group of young boys walk leisurely across the car park.

I like getting a good night’s sleep, whenever possible. This relates to my days at the bank, when a good night’s sleep was essential for alertness throughout the working day. Yesterday was a late night one, sitting before the TV watching an interesting replay of “Friends”. As I tried to sleep, there was a party breaking up and saying their loud goodbyes at the entrance of the building. A lot of opening and banging shut of car doors kept me awake longer. A late New Year party or a convenient celebration on a Sunday evening. Still sleepy today!

We received a packet of dates for the New Year. They were delicious. Though dates are a local commodity the ones in the supermarket do not come cheap. During summer, I have seen the fruit laden trees along the highways and even a few on Exhibition Avenue. The fruits red and yellow according to the variety can be seen scattered on the ground under the trees. The fresh fruit however is not as sweet as the dried one and leaves a strange gagging feeling if you eat it. I am trying to find out what variety the gifted dates were.

Krishna has discovered that his school canteen sells the Lebanese Falafel. I remember years back, we visited Port Harcourt, Nigeria during the course of Chandra’s work. There was a real fear of armed robbery there and we had heard of a couple of daring ones. But the hotel we were in did not have any vegetarian food for dinner and though it was dark Chandra decided to go out to find some suitable food for us. He found a Lebanese restaurant and was assured that the Falafel they made for us was totally vegetarian. We had a satisfying dinner.

For a long time in my life, I did not maintain any diary. But I wish, I had recorded everyday life in Nigeria. It was my first experience in another country and I would have noticed the differences and how it affected me keenly, I feel. When I was writing a novel about my experiences there, it was difficult because, I remembered something later on and wanted to include it or the sequence of events was doubtful. But I find myself going to my diary less frequently as I think 100words keeps track of the time we are spending here.

It was midnight when I heard loud laughter from the road. I hoped they would not walk under the window and disturb me and the noise didn’t come closer. But after an hour it was back again and quickly moving closer. The car with the weekend partying souls whizzed past in the lane and in the proximity of the apartment there were some loud dashing sounds, shattering the cool night followed by suspicious silence. In the morning all I could see was a shattered no parking signboard. I am beginning to feel like the Miss. Marple of lane 1908.

The Murukku making session was a long one. I soaked the rice and powdered it in the morning. After lunch was the specialist task of twisting the Murukku dough into spiral twists four or five circular lines thick on absorbent paper. Then frying it in hot oil till crispy. This crispy spicy rice flour and urad dal flour creation was well appreciated by the family after they returned from lunch outside. One aunt in Nemmara made the tastiest ones. Whether it was the local rice used or her dexterity in twisting the tiniest spiral twists was a thousand rupee question.

Today would have been the completion of twenty five years of service if I had continued working for the bank. I don’t even remember my first day of work which was on the 10th of January 1984. Keeping a diary would have helped. I would have loved to know what I thought about that day. If I had continued, I would be too busy even to have remembered this occasion. Anyway a decade of my life there would be the stuff of another Nanowrimo novel. I want to write down whatever I remember before my memory gives it up.

With the breakfast cooking, the flame went out as the gas cylinder was empty. The gas tube comes from the cylinder downstairs and Chandra had to go and inform the security man to refill with a new cylinder. The gas cylinders are stored in a tiny room we pass as we go down the stairway and I felt having all those cylinders there was a security risk, for our first floor apartment. The tubing coming through the holes in the walls also makes me nervous. A tiny control valve in the kitchen area tubing is all the control we have.

It was an arguing afternoon when we never seemed to agree. The generation gap shows with a teenager around the house. But we settle matters soon enough, as today is another long day at school. Cell phones are not allowed at school, but when you think of a thirteen year old returning after 7pm from a school competition, safety is priority. So a cell phone is carried carefully switched off during school hours to be used afterwards.
Instructions are one missed call to be made to a parent after boarding the school bus and one on reaching the Hoora area.

There was fog this morning and the buildings around Gosi looked hazy. The orange disc of a sun had not yet appeared and I could see the sky in that direction and the blue clouds lined with orange gold. The chirping of a hundred sparrows and the cooing of the wild doves enriched the morning. The traffic was non existent. The kids all in their winter uniforms trudged through the paved car park to the waiting bus. The bus left soon after and there was absolute calm. A few minutes later the whole scene was lit up with golden sunlight.

It is the Pongal day and the whole of Tamilnadu and other states in India will be celebrating. I always like the excitement before any festival, when the front yard of the houses sport decorative Kollams. In the main streets stands filled with bunches of whole sugarcane sticks spring up. Whole turmeric plants with the yellow turmeric roots are sold alongside. The house fronts are decorated with mango leaf garlands. Back in India the preparations left me with no time to watch the special programs on television and now it is TV watching time. I will make Chakarai Pongal later.

We had a busy weekend with a visit to the Krishna temple in Manama. Stumbled on the pavement and fell on my knees and hand. Just bruises, but worried all the same as there was a car passing close to me in the narrow lane. We had often seen a craft shop and decided to go in. It was a beautiful place to be in. Hand crafted chessboards in a variety of materials, carved camel bone animals, painted boxes and paper mache eggs from Kashmir, huge wooden chests all carved with gold inlay work, crystal Aladdin lamps it was wonderland.

Our shopping at Lulu is tiring and Krishna valiantly pushed the heavy trolley for over an hour as we trudged through floors of the Dana mall where it is located. We were at the checkout and there was a fair skinned Arab lady with a dark African looking child beside her. As Chandra chatted with her when she billed, we got to know she was Somalian. Some affinity for Africans I feel, having lived in Nigeria. Another little girl sat playing with her toy in a loaded trolley, as her mother took out items from around her to be billed.

We went for a long walk around Hoora. It has been some time now and I have almost forgotten the experience. The beach road was no longer an attraction, due to the constant flow of fast traffic. I felt the air would not be good for deep breathing. We passed a hotel with fake palm trees lit up with lights in the evening. Another hotel advertised a discotheque. An Arab country with veiled women and a disco for the men! I feel safer walking alone in India than here. There was heavy traffic when we turned towards Exhibition Avenue junction.

Blueberries and blackberries are new to us and I found some frozen ones. Looked up the recipes and decided to make a vegetarian version of blueberry muffins. I worry about how they will turn out to be without the eggs. I had a bad experience with vegetarian brownies. Baking brownies from a mix without the eggs made them turn out hard. Later, I always used bananas instead of eggs and it was a good substitution. I use ghee instead of butter, which is also a good option. You can use less ghee than the portion of butter in any recipe.

I woke up with a sore throat this morning. Krishna was also down with a cold and had already missed a day of school. It was a subdued start for Chandra in the morning. At 9am Krishna’s teacher called. I was pleasantly surprised to hear it was the class teacher and thanked her for enquiring. It seemed she had called on a different matter altogether. The unsold tickets for the school fair on Friday had to be returned and we hadn’t received her message. All sickness was forgotten as I tried to find someone to return the tickets.

Krishna was still coughing this morning but was really keen on going to school. A science project had to be completed for the exhibition at the school fair. They were making a hovercraft and now it is time over the net to look up the possible small models that can be made. It is good to find young people so involved and working towards a goal. But it was an expensive project and I was at first hesitant for them to start on something too big, but later decided to go with it as it made him happy. Negotiation helps!

I am trying composting as a source of manure for the few plants, I am trying to grow. I was hesitant about composting as I did not want to encourage flies of any sort hovering about the balcony. I am trying the dry vegetable waste and not any mushy or cooked waste first. I have a plastic sack and a little pot for the trial heap. Dump the waste add a bit of soil and a little water once in two days and waits for it to turn into manure in a month’s time, perhaps. I am waiting eagerly.

We were walking towards the police station intersection at night. It was a calm day with not much traffic on the road. As we were getting close to the crossing, we saw a group of young Abaya clad girls opposite to us. As a car whizzed past the group a young man put his head out of the car window and screamed something at the girls in Arabic. There were also some loud shouts from the very next car, probably part of the rowdy group. The girls carried on without responding as if they were used to such rowdy behaviour.

After a sleepless night with an irritating cough that seemed to trouble whenever I tried to sleep, I rushed to make breakfast. Housework seems tougher whenever you are tired. I tried to start early and steadily so that I could rest in the afternoon. I had almost forgotten it was our weekly family chat evening. As soon as lunch was over family members were appearing online and rest was scheduled to a later time which never materialised. In gaps between conversations, I made coffee and washed up the dishes left in the sink after lunch and tea. An early night??

We were watching TV when a horrific crashing sound made us rush to the window. A big four wheel drive had crashed into the garbage bin and moved on to the mud car park and pushed up against the parked vehicles bringing five cars into a miserable crunch. A woman in an Abaya wailed and an Arab in a Thoub was consoling her. The Arab man seemed to be the driver of the offending vehicle. People in the building park their cars here and by the crowd that appeared many people had to look for alternate transport for work tomorrow.

It took me a long while to get back to normal after the disturbing crash. The police came after two hours. Maybe they were not told of the number of vehicles damaged in the incident. At 11pm, I could still hear the crackle of the wireless instrument on the policeman’s sturdy bike parked beneath the bedroom window. A steady flow of information in Arabic was being relayed. There was a huge moving truck parked at a distance with blinking yellow lights. I saw my niece online and chatting to her took away a bit of the stress. Tried sleeping.

I prayed for a peaceful night as I went to bed. I was woken up within two hours by a melodious folk song in Tamil from a vehicle below the window. It was in Tamil, but not the type of music I have heard on local Radio in India. It must have been from across the seas from Sri Lanka or another Tamil speaking nation. The music stayed on louder when the vehicle door was open and softer when the door closed. It was a pleasant disturbance. My prayers got quick returns it seemed. Back to sleep, happier than before.

My niece sent me a link to the family tree started by a cousin’s daughter. It was my mother’s side of the family. I was quite surprised at the number of ancestors she had traced. I included some people also and so there are now over 350 people in this particular tree. I would like to trace more links in my father’s side of the family. Some of its members still live in the same little village in Nemmara. It is easier to trace people but very few there have computer links, so it will take time.

Another day away from school for Krishna. A field trip to a park which had a water slide wasn’t a good idea. Just when he was recovering from the coughing spell of the last few days. Who would want to miss out on a fun school trip. He came back tired and happy. I wanted him to still attend school as he had missed a few days last week. The boys had planned to stay away from school to rest and this was not okay with me. He didn’t sleep well all night was the father’s indulgence.

Early in the morning, I hear a powerful water hose being used and I look out of the window. The pathway and the road adjacent to the Gosi are being cleaned thoroughly by a sincere employee on the weekly holiday morning. It seems the staff of Gosi are always working; the security men doing their shifts and the cleaners maintaining the building and its surroundings. Almost all of them are Indian. I even see a female security guard nowadays. I have seen lady security staff in Nigeria. But in a community where women are veiled, this was a bit surprising.

Yet another weekend spent in the house. It does get a bit too much. A nice three mile walk once or twice a week would be ideal, but I am hesitant to go out alone too far. A one kilometre radius when you can reach home quickly is as far as I will go alone here. To be a lady and an Asian one is an easy target when alone for teasing. Crimes against women from Asia are taken too lightly here, I feel. This combined with rash driving and driving while talking on the cell phone makes me wary.

The family tree on Geni is quite absorbing. Our Saturday chat session was almost totally about this. My mother knew quite a bit about the ancestors, as she is the second of the oldest living at almost eighty, on her side of the family tree. I discovered that in the past mother and daughter had the same name, although this wasn’t usual and father and son too had same names. Only one cousin of mine has the same name as his father now, which is also the name of the grandfather. Quite confusing, if they don’t have nicknames.