East or West, Home is Best

As the wheels of the plane touched the ground, I felt that my home country shed tears of joy and happiness as a welcome gesture. Yes, it was raining heavily as I landed in India few days back. What a sense of relief it would be for us who have escaped from the scorching heat of Middle East just to take refuge for few days in the land of wet soil! The nostalgic smell of the wet sand, the dew drops from the green leaves, the fertile grass lands, the unruly traffic system, the sting of mosquitoes, the sound of temple bells, the traditionally dressed men and women were some of the few things that I had missed for a long time.

My last visit to India was nearly 2 years back and my daughters were hardly 4 years old then. They had very little memory about their last visit. So this visit is almost a wonder to them. They are identifying and learning everything with astonishment. It was so nice to watch my kids enjoy the rain and the wet sand after it stopped. I made the least effort to stop them from dancing with their bare feet outside the house. They were delighted over the newly obtained freedom. How bad of me for having denied them a close association with nature for a purpose of pursuing a career! Can money compensate the relief they will gain by playing outside uninterruptedly almost on all seasons of the year? Is it possible anywhere outside India to play outside the house throughout all seasons? I doubt though.

I was shocked when my daughters failed to identify a cow just because it was black in colour. It was because they had always seen cows on books and TV that were brown and white. They were very happy to see a real butterfly fluttering its colourful little wings merrily. They term mosquito, ant and related insects as “cockroach” since that is the only insect that they have seen. I was constantly worried about the mosquito bites that would attack on fresh blood and how my daughters who are finicky about every small injury would handle it. But they seem to be less bothered about such stuff than adults. I am glad that they have accepted everything about this place.

But one thing that is troubling me is that my daughters keep repeating that they miss Bahrain. Just like how I miss everything about India, they are missing something about Bahrain (though I feel that Bahrain is only a sophisticated prison for children). As children, they tend to forget things quicker. I only hope that we come back and settle down in this fertile country for good.