No one:

Me: I HAVE TURNED 30! Yay, me!!

Someone: Really?

Me: Not really ☹

I have lately realized that growing up is not as cool as I thought it to be in kindergarten.

<< << REWINDING TO MY FIFTH YEAR

I used to slip into my mom’s size 9 slippers, walking around the house imagining how powerful, big people must feel – like my ninja mom, I could use the knife and play with fire and make a scrumptious meal in 2 mins (now I know all you need is a magic potion called Maggi), I could make things happen with a strong word and a death stare (now you know where I get that from – dad, of course!), I could sit with other Big people and talk serious matters (and not have my eavesdropping-self be thrown into the play room with dolls, while they conversed). In short, to be an adult felt like being a superhero.

>> >> FAST FORWARDING TO THE THIRTIETH YEAR

Well, I’ll be honest. Given an option now, I would switch places with my 5-year-old self in a heartbeat (no questions asked). I am sure you would too!

But it is not all so bad now I guess – I get to PLAN. I have a serious obsession with planning. I strongly believe it is not OCD (But my dear husband, Finney, begs to differ sometimes).   

I planned my 30^th birthday meticulously. Not a grand plan but a simple one as I was not so sure if I must ‘celebrate’ this milestone. Anyway, this was my plan – I would take a couple of days off and elope to a far far away quiet sea shore (with very less or no tourists and preferably no network coverage so I can force myself to be off the grid).  I would carry my baby, Nikon D550 and click shots of God-made gorgeous models – the island, the rocks, the trees, the waves, the shells and the list go on. I’m sure some of you are thinking ‘poor husband’. Well, I planned something for him too – a shack and a Ludlum book and he is all set (don’t worry – this has been tested and it is fail-safe. Please refer to the picture for proof.) In the afternoon, we would take a power nap on the hammock under the shade of coconut trees listening to the music of the rustling leaves and the rushing waves. Tea time would be unorthodox but completely relevant to the beach setting – we would have a glass of coconut water and probably a fish fry/ potato bajji like the ones my city’s (Chennai) beaches are famous for. In the evening, we would have a candle light dinner under the dark star lit sky and maybe dance to the tune of the periodically crashing waves reminding us of the beauty of where we are. The relaxed day would come to an end with us back to the corona-safe hotel room and I’ll leave the rest to your imagination.

THE [STARK] REALITY

I tested positive for COVID exactly 2 weeks ago. By the grace of God, I am among the lucky ones who escaped the danger zone and crossed the line with just home quarantine. Had serious trouble the first week. Being me, I planned for all possible outcomes. The second week, things started getting better and I am doing quite well today. Thank you for your prayers! Can’t say the same of my dear maternal Thatha (grand-father). He got affected the same time I did (my grand-parents were with us at home for a couple of days). He was one of the few privileged ones who got to sail 80’s without any serious illness except for the indispensable thorn – the knee pain. Just a year and a half ago, he faced his first ever critical illness, yet he surprised us with his quick recovery. Then came COVID. Fever. Body-pain. Deep cough. He stopped walking. His knees would trust his cane no more. I saw him turn into a child who could not explain what was hurting him. Yet he laughed, played with me and smiled every time I did. And yesterday (April 21^st), he passed away, 84 years of age, a day before my birthday.

The whole family is devastated. I am seeing scenes I never have before, in the family – my dear pama (grand-mother) whom I call the iron-lady, lost for words but tears rolling down her cheeks repeatedly saying “He called me Shantha [Pama’s name is Annie Shantha Bai]”; my mother wail and mourn profusely hurting herself; my aunts and uncles (my mom’s siblings) confused and helpless like little children. First time I have lost someone I have dearly loved and all I can think of is how loving he was and how much he loved me. I can understand Pama’s words because I cannot stop thinking, “He called me Pragaasi [Tamil word for Shiny]”. Words do comfort, but sadly not in times as these I suppose, except if it is divine and touches the deepest part of your soul.

Surprisingly this odd turn of events does not surprise me – Murphy’s Law has always been good old friend who never leaves.

But I would be the most ungrateful person in the whole world if I mourn this day. 30 years or 10959 days have taught me more than what I deserve and have made me the person I am today. If I were to jot them all down, it would take another decade for me to write and another year for you to read. There is a long story behind each of these couplets, but here is a very concise version:

Lessons from LIFE, my best teacher

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Not to miss out on pockets of joy,

As they don’t last forever.

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Not to be afraid of bullies,

Because God fights my battles.

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Not to hesitate when an opportunity knocks the door,

It seldom knocks another time.

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Not to be discouraged by humiliation and insults,

Because God will raise me up in the same place higher.

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Not to look for strength but peace during a storm,

Because this too shall pass.

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Not to take family and friends for granted,

Because they are the agents God uses to show the meaning of love.

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Life is all about learning to depend on God

And success will naturally follow.

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Life only makes sense,

If I add value to someone else.

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So, to conclude,

I am having a good run,

Fond memories that I wouldn’t trade for a ton.

If you ask me if there are any bits I would skip for fun,

I would say none.

The good and the sad parts, the beauty and the beast,

The yin and the yang, the black and the white,

Have made my life a worthwhile treat,

And I wait eagerly for the next fight.

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