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I AM glad to be back in Bahrain where life is generally peaceful and calm and I am surrounded by friends and kept busy with work, home and children.

The last two weeks, however, have perhaps been the longest, most torturous time I have faced here ... the toughest task was trying to keep cool when talking to family back home.

Looking back, I think all hell broke loose in my home on the day the children were stuck in traffic jams on their way to school on March 13. I was at home, powerless to do anything.

Desperate, I began making phone calls to the school and then the bus service manager. I thanked God from the bottom of my heart when Balan, the most trustworthy manager of Al Sadiq Transport, connected me to my six-year old daughter at 8.30am - an hour and a half after she had left home!

And then began the influx of calls, web reports of what was happening around us and frantic text messages about the situation outside. We turned on the TV for help and I tried to speak to my reporter friends who also sounded pretty desperate.

CNN and BBC frustrated us with their generic lines and Al Jazeera with their reports. Finally, Bahrain TV came on showing footage from Seef.

At this point I genuinely missed the Indian media channels that are famous for their extensive coverage of anything minutely sensational in the country. Many of us may remember the detailed coverage of the terrorist attacks in Mumbai, in 2008.

Personally, my most frustrating moments were watching the calm faces of the newsreaders and listening to the local radio station playing music, when life seemed to be crumbling around us.

I had a thousand questions about us as a family, others who may not be able to return home, the country and its future. I thought about students who were facing important exams while schools were being forced to close and examinations postponed.

Then we came across the advisories from the different embassies, which I was ready to rubbish ... but the reality on the streets made me shudder.

Stores had run out of drinking water, milk and vegetables and people were buying any food items they could.

We went across to Exhibition Road to buy medicines and when we came back we saw our building shutters down and groups of residents blocking roads with garbage bins and standing guard with sticks and baseball bats. I am glad to be in an apartment block with great neighbours and we all gathered to discuss what we knew and lightened each other's moods.

In the next few days I lived and experienced what the term 'uneasy calm' meant. Roads were quiet except for an occasional car passing by and all shops were shut. Almost everyone I knew was behaving as if they were under 'house arrest', reluctant to leave their homes.

We continued to believe that the violence we heard about was unreal and was simply a rumour spread to instil fear ... that is until masked men vandalised the 24-hours supermarket next door.

An individual had plastered the lifts in our building with a stark message suggesting Indians would be targeted and explosives placed in our complex. 'Search for safer places and start living separately', it stated.

The landlord was alerted, the posters removed and security was increased but it caused us all severe anxiety.

The next day we woke up to the drone of military helicopters and watched the smoke pouring out of the tents that were erected around the roundabout.

Everyone was tense, rubbish was not picked up from the streets, there were no deliveries (including the daily paper), the internet did not work and the sewer overflowed. We soon got the message that the bank, where my husband worked, was evacuating staff and families to Dubai.

I welcomed the news with mixed feelings but the challenge was to decide what among our possessions was the most precious - money, jewellery, certificates, original documents. The list also had to include an entire set of books, receipts for the upcoming exams and files that my teenage daughter would require in case we could not come back! And, all this had to be packed in three suitcases of 25kgs each!

We ended up taking just five sets of clothing. Unsure of what was to happen in the next few days, I sent my maid home to India for a month.

Getting evacuated is not an exciting process. In some ways it is embarrassing as many of our friends and neighbours were opting to stay in Bahrain, ready to face any sort of storm.

Although we were on a chartered flight out of the country, most of us were undertaking a half-hearted journey.

It was a rushed affair and we were coping with bored children, thoughts of home and worst, a journey without a definite date of return.

After spending the night at a hotel, we agreed that going away was good. We finally had a day when we were not desperately flicking through TV channels or checking tweets, hearing the drone of helicopters or making endless calls to friends.

It was also an opportunity to make new friends, understand different perspectives and look forward to different ways of spending the day. Most of us had not been to the malls or watched a movie in a theatre for more than a month!

We were also relieved to know that we were not alone. The hotel apartments were also booked by several families from Bahrain who had rented the rooms for three months and we also bumped into acquaintances in the different Dubai malls.

And, I began getting messages that read - 'Honeymoon's over. Schools have reopened. When are you coming back?'

Reassured, we were all set to return this weekend, when the news of last Friday's planned protests trickled in and the bank officials took the decision to delay our stay for another week.

Most of us accepted the decision but I was distraught knowing that my daughter's assessments were due to begin this Tuesday. And, I took the first flight home with my children, leaving my husband to continue his work in Dubai.

It is wonderful to be back home in Bahrain, however dusty and dirty it is, and watching the attempts by most people to get life back to normal.

My 17-year-old-daughter, who is taking Art in her GCSEs, said: "I feel like a proper artist, painting what is happening around us."

When she started the project Bahrain was safe, secure and boring. If only we can get back that way.

A. Rao, expat now back in Hoora.