
I was standing there, outside the gold shop. My eyes roamed around while I hold the two trolleys. One filled with my kids, the other with my groceries. Then I gazed at the overly designed gold arranged on the neck of a headless manequin. But somehow I was brought to look at a few men, perhaps about seven of them, huddling over one man, their friend, holding a bracelet.
One look at them, you can probably tell the kind of work they do. Unruled hair, untidy clothes, skin dry and hard probably exposed to the scorching sun too long. The bracelet man, let's call him that, was looking and admiring at the gold. Asked for approval, which is not really needed, from his friends.
Nod! Nod! They answered obligingly. Closer huddle.
There, at the other end of the counter is a well dressed man. Mr. Salesman his name is. He was punching some numbers in his big calculator. Then he turned the machine to them so that they can see how much the bracelet cost. He looked disinterested with this group. He wasn't even focusing to the bracelet man. His eyes were everywhere, except the bracelet man.
Ahhh he was sure bracelet man would not buy the bracelet in the end. It's too expensive for him. Plus it is really a cheap bracelet. He doesn't even care if he doesn't make this sale.
Then, bracelet man decided that perhaps he need a second option. He pointed into the glass box. Another bracelet. A thinner one this time.
Mr. Salesman, without a smile on his face, punched something into his machine and routinedly showed it to them.
Further huddles. Discuss. Discuss. Shake heads. And one of the seven men said something.
Then bracelet man said something nice to Mr. Salesman. Like, I will think about it. Next time maybe. Have a nice day. Or maybe he said fuck you. I don't know.
To you too.
They went out of the shop noisily discussing something in a language I do not understand.
I don't know why, but I find this scene rather romantic.
Bracelet man is probably a man who had to leave his wife, his family, the things he loved, his country to come here and earned some money. Money that his country cannot provide for him. He had to live in the country where people do not care about him. If he falls in a ditch and die, he would be just another face in the mortuary. He had to live in an uncomfortable crowded house without a woman in his life. (I am not sure whether you can resort to other woman here. Let's not talk about that okay. I am trying to be romantic).
It's probably time for him to go home. What can be a better symbol of appreciation and love and hard earned money's worth than gold to his wife, to him at least.
These men had probably from gone one gold shop to another, surveying for the cheapest but yet the nicest piece of jewellery. I find this rather touching. All the effort dragging the many men along, to find that piece of gold for his awaiting wife. He could have just pointed out the cheapest and go off. Why bother eh?
The bothering is what I find romantic.
I hope his wife appreciates it.
Woman's Wiles
In this manner she pleaded with gentle coaxing,
The while her tears fell upon her cheeks.
How could his firmness and endurance abide
When even without tears she could charm his heart?
That rain brought forth a flash of lightning
Which kindled a spark in the heart of that poor man.
Since the man was the slave of her fair face,
How was it when she stooped to slavish entreaties?
When she whose airs set thy heart a-quaking,
When she weeps, how feelest thou then?
When she whose coquetry makes thy heart bleed
Condescends to entreaties, how is it then?
She who subdues us with her pride and severity,
What plea is left us when she begins to plead?
When she who traded in naught but bloodshed
Submits at last, ah! what a profit she makes!
God has adorned them "fair in the sight of men;"
From her whom God has adorned how can man escape?
Since He created him "to dwell together with her,"
How can Adam sever himself from his Eve?
Though he be Rustum, son of Zal, and braver than Hamza,
Yet he is submissive to the behests of his dame.
He by whose preaching the world was entranced
Mawlana Rumi
In the biggest shopping mall here, I cannot find a single dedicated bookstore.
This is the gate from the outside. You are looking at the house. This is actually an individual two-story villa with an unimaginative choice of colour. It has a maid house outside. The clever landlord renovated this house so that he can make three houses out of it. There is a British family renting upstairs, there is a Filipino couple renting at the maid's house. I am renting at the ground floor. Overall he made about QR20,000 for otherwise perhaps QR11,000. So as you can see, I had to park outside for there is no parking space for everyone inside.

The kitchen is spacious. Pity it doesn't have a top cabinet. That made it difficult to hide away snacks from the kids. And they did not arrange the sink, stove and fridge in the essential triangle point way. Well I can live with that. I plan to get a small breakfast table to put in the kitchen.
But the view as I get out of the house is just terrible. It is white. It is glaring. Not to mention, the reflective white hoarding the neighbour put in front of the house to stop prying eyes. Ah! Eye sore!
I bought some creeping jasmines and hope to add some green to the wall later. I know that's a long way to go. I think i want to get those fake turf and put it on the tiled lawn and perhaps create a playing area. More taller green plants to be placed near the wall to add shades of green and some bushes at corners of the high fence. Too bad all has to be potted. Which I do not like actually. Potted plants are not so good especially on hot tiles.
Going about here in this big car reminded me of my mum even more. I specified to my lover, I wanted a big car, an eight-seater car, comfortable even with eight adults. We have planned for my parents to come for the next eid. I imagine taking my parents to the probably numerous open houses around here. I imagine them at the back being trampled over by my kids. Yes the car is big but my kids would still cramp themselves between them. I imagine also that my mum would have trouble climbing up and down the car, and my dad would hold her hand, carefully making sure she does not trip over. And I'd probably take photos of them in the car, outside the car, behind, at the front. And them too. They'll take photos of them and the kids with the car as the background. In front the house. At the corniche. At the souqs. Everywhere.
Okay so I complained that it is hot. It is indeed very hot during the day, but it is okay during the night, when the sun shied away. It is almost like Malaysia except for the humidity. 
After makan-makan (dinner), which I brought soto, nasi impit, ayam siat and peanut sauce also, some of the group went crabbing. Apparenly this is what they do at this beach. The tide was coming up, but it was shallow. Even JackJack could walk off to the middle of somewhere. Haziq and some new found friends found four crabs. I didn't find anything for I was not looking for anything.
For the whole night I felt like a newly married couple. Even worst actually. When I was newly married, at least people have to decency to stop at smiling. 