Back To Pavilion

IPL season isn’t it? I’m not much of a cricket fan but T20 I do follow. I’m just hoping the royals buck up soon or I’ll have to hide my head in the sand when I meet a few people after the seasons done;-) but that’s not what this post is all about. Right now I’m back to pavilion.......back home that is;-)
What’s it like coming home after a year???? I’m having a nice time I’d say. Like the last three years, this year was no exception, my flight was delayed by an hour, which is why mum and dad didn’t bother setting out early from home to pick me up. Off from the airport I thought I’d take a much needed nap on the 2 hour drive home to Sohar........
Now I’m sure most of you have never heard of this place. Trust me it’s practically Timbuktu, Google it, I’m not going to bother explaining where it’s located. Suffice to say it’s somewhere between Muscat and Dubai (there’s no way you don't know where’s Dubai). Where was I? Oh yes that nap.....it never happened. Why? Because I’m not used to a car that glides over a very smooth road at 120km/h..... I seem to have grown rather attached to the potholed, winding roads of Mangalore. Sleep on such a smooth road is a farfetched dream.......
So we finally reach home!!!!! Cramped legs, jammed back and all..... And I’m lost...... no kidding, long absence from home + a mum with a lot of free time on her hands = one lost kid whose home on vacation. I headed for my room to change only to open the cupboard and find it wiped clean. No trace of my clothes anywhere!!!!!! Seems mum bundled off all my old clothes to charity. “Well what do I wear? Pat came the reply,” Go hunt in dads cupboard!” so I’m now forced to swim and float around in oversized tees n shorts, all the while thanking my lucky stars that you guys aren’t around to see it ;-)
That wasn’t the end of it......while I was trying to locate the stuff I needed mum casually mentioned that we had to attend two parties that evening. “Which one are you guys going for?” I asked. “Both”, said mum. Parties here don't start till about 9 or 10 in the night so they’d worked out a schedule. 9-11 at one party and the rest of the night at another. My protests of being too tired (which I was!!) went in vain. I was dragged along anyway, bleary eyed, splitting head ache and all.
The a/c’s here are a truly welcome respite from the soaring temperatures back in India, but it takes some getting used-to to the ridiculously low temperatures that people here set it at. How low???Low enough to freeze the bottle of hair oil in my room. My fogged up mind kept imagining myself in the tundras. The Irish cream and wine wasn’t helping coz the blaring cacophony they called singing was, I’m sure, way above the permissible decibel for humans....
Thanks to jet lag and no sleep for over 24 hours, I was bushed when we got home at 5.30 in the morning, IST (jet lag remember??) slept 8 hours straight.
Right now I’m busy making the house habitable according to me and messing up according to mum. The remote’s missing from its usual place, sofa cushions are thrown about, novels all over the place, chocolate wrappers everywhere..... “It’s a mess!!”, shrieks mum. “face it, the kids are home!!”, I retort ;-) the house no longer looks like a museum or ones you see on those picture perfect descriptions on the magazines.....
Now if I could only find a way to speed up the ridiculously low net speed here.....ever tried working on a speed of 40kbps?? Its hell....... I better get those dishes done before mum enters the kitchen.......
Yup I’m well and truly back to pavilion......