Robotic routines in the recent past left me so anguished that last night that I felt deflated. Outrageous. I hardly spared time to work out some math sheets with my daughter. I wanted to open the floodgates of my minds dam where numerous thoughts had been circling in orbits. The speed went directly proportional to the speed of our routine list of jobs. I wanted to fall flat with my laptop and write. Write write and write.Cherished dream of childhood. The evenings sitting in my home garden I wrote my school times poems. The aroma of the agarbatthis my mother lit after prayers to god, still tickle my nostrils at the very thought. One small Red Diary of mine that holds treasure of my bits of writings, poems and thoughts lies with me, slightly soiled, worn out pages.
Soon after starts the hustle bustle of preparations. There is a paradox always when my daughter says shes so very excited to go to India. But for a holiday only! For her Doha is a home. It so very natural. But our heart longs to go back home. Perhaps nothing much different than the busy bees that get busy collecting nectar to return home one day. The non availability of citizen ship in these parts makes us an Residence Permit holder at the same time and NRI. Definitely not anyone can be as lucky as the great painter M.F.Hussein[late] to have attained Qatari Citizenship.
A good vacation to India finally in this month is on the cards. My daughter has been showing her enthusiasm in her craziest ways. She has just wriggled into the blanket like a mouse trying to pull out a piece of cheese stuck inside a hole. She shook her ass continuously and stuck it out of the blanket and kept whistling till I had to quieten her. Her excitement has no bounds. All her bags packed and announced to most important people in her life like her Ballet and Art teacher, her class teacher, her playmates, even the school bus driver.
We are no less. Pulled out Indian currency and admired all the five and ten rupee notes that seemed so good. I smelt a note as slipped it into my bag and that reminded me how I used these notes as I took the autos of Bangalore in early 2001. Naa a holiday to India is not new. We go every year. Even at times for a day or two. But the plans of relaxing seems so soothing.
After a break as we visit India there is a fun even in :
- Watching the street dogs bark
- The beggars bugging you by pecking at your shoulder
- The continuous non stop honking on the roads as if there has been some kind of emergency
- Standing in the center of a crowd and stuffing "paani puri" when you are not sure the next morsel might reach another's mouth too.
And as a typical NRI coming from "foren"who visits India on for a holiday and gasps at the inflation. Some typical ones that I observed.
You end up quarreling with an Auto Rickshaw wallah for no mistake of his as you are the one who stores old memory files like minimum fare that prevailed during your last visit!
You want to leave every evidence on the streets that you visit that you have come home from Foren by at least the backpack that you dump on the back with one bottle of "Bisleri" water.
I had once witnessed a couple who happily sipped their coconut water at a tiny road side vendor. But then came trouble."What you cant even keep tissues?. India is developing, see where people have reached". I was aghast at this lecture of Mr. X to the vendor as I watched this from other side of the road.
Well, as for my daughter she will clap and jump on seeing some stray puppies on the roads. She will roll and laugh when she sees people hanging out of the local city buses around in Manipal/Mangalore. She will carefully watch the mobile vendors shouting their typical lines for "tomato-potato-onion" or fresh flowers on Bangalore roads. And then we [me and my hubby] exclaim for us the holiday is "back home" but for my little one it is the other way. She is a "forener" in India waiting for her return one day to her home where is brought up! There goes the tug of war ...........