Life Abroad

My father was relocated to the UAE, when I was in the 5th std. After nine months of my fathers departure to the emirates, my brother, amma and me followed. I was sorry to leave my friends but was excited by the prospect of going outside India.

I had associated life abroad with affluence and had this image of a palatial home with carpets and bathing tubs and other such works. What I saw was something very different.

Achhan had a rented a single room in a villa with 3 rooms, a common kitchen and common bathroom. One room was occupied by 3 bachelors and another by a newly married couple- all from Kerala. The 4 of us occupied the 3rd room. My brother and me were too young to view these circumstances as travails and just enjoyed being together.

Meanwhile, my brother and me had joined school and were busy getting adjusted to the new environment. My brother had lots of problems initially on joining school. He would vomit daily in the bus and no kid would agree to sit near him. He fell ill frequently and was very weak.

Later, I understood that Achhan was having problems on the job front too. There were these labor problems and achhan used to be very tense those days. The final straw was when Achhan lost his job due to nepotism shown by his immediate boss who was also an Indian.We were asked to vacate the villa one fine day. Where do we go? We packed our things, left the furniture back at the villa, and went to my fathers brothers place, who lived in the next town. They lived in another villa- with just 1 living room and 1 bedroom. But it was a cute place, They already had my aunts brother and wife with them and willingly accommodated us too.

Achhan hunted for a job and finally landed one. We shifted once more- again another sharing accommodation. Our co tenants were a nice family from Kerala. After a few years we finally shifted to an independent flat. I was thrilled to have a home all to ourselves.

Achhan held a good job, but he did not get travel and rent allowance, and so when we traveled to India once in 2 years, the entire savings would get drained out in travel expenses and gifts for friends and relatives. But the label, -Foreign returned -stuck like a badge!When we came down to Kerala, I was eager to project that we were very much Indian in habit and behaviour. My parents anyway insisted that we spoke Malayalam at home and English was reserved for school. Yet, folks sometimes taunted saying that we might be uncomfortable with Indianness. I would do my best at eating off banana leaves at functions, and yet some well meaning elder would loudly point out my clumsiness and I would cringe with embarrassment.

I got the long awaited opportunity of learning Indian classical Dance while in U.A.E. Incidentally, we got to attend more Indian cultural functions while outside India, than while living in India!
Our school was Indian and affiliated to CBSE. The atmosphere was cosmopolitan, and we had people from all parts of India. I enjoyed my 6 year school life every bit. Independence day, Republic Day etc were celebrated with great pomp and fervour. I observed that outside India, one was Indian first and regional diffrentiation was not of much importance. Our teachers too came from various parts of India. I would like to mention here that, by a lucky coincidence , I stumbled upon one of my favourite teachers from Dubai, here on Sulekha! The school was actually co-ed, but later on orders from the ministry, boys and girls were segregated into morning and afternoon sessions! Interestingly, it was after segregation that graffiti , creative drawings started appearing on the school walls!

Our school canteen had delicious stuff- samosas, potato chips- and my favourite was galaxy milk chocolate. My folks did not believe in pocket money for kids and I remember I stole a few dirhams a couple of times to buy chips. Then we had to study Gandhijis - My Experiments with Truth-The story of my life- in 8th std, I think that was. There was this famous incident of how Gandhiji confesses to his father abt having stolen money , and I am reformed instantly! That evening, I very righteously confessed to my father abt my crime, and my father though initially seemed rather nonplussed, told me that I could have always asked him if I wanted money for something .Funny, that possibility had never occurred to me. Any way, I felt very goody good abt it, and that satisfaction abt having shared a common Life experience- My own personal experiments with Truth- with none other than The Mahatma.

Other crimes that I indulged in childhood, was that of helping myself to delicious sweets that amma made and kept in the fridge, while I was supposed to be studying, and she was having a nap. It helped that I sat for studies in the kitchen! Then of course, reading story books hidden inside school books. The other day, I caught my elder son doing the same thing and I was shocked. After chastising our son gently, my husband reassured me that our son was not a juvenile delinquent beyond redemption. History repeats!