tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296545172024-02-28T12:18:22.633+05:30i, me ,myselfmisskayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05339847199839612064noreply@blogger.comBlogger98125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29654517.post-30704489332420148102018-09-12T15:27:00.000+05:302018-09-12T15:27:52.065+05:30Pet Peeves of a Home Tutor.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Until I logged into this blog, I didn't realise that my previous post was also a rant about taking tuitions online. But hey, apparently that's what inspires me to write right now, so lets just go with the flow.<br />
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Having been a tutor for 8 years and an online tutor for over 18 months now, there are a few things that have continued to bug me over the years.<br />
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<b>Missing classes/ attending classes regularly</b></div>
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I hate it when students or their parents don't inform me when they are going to be missing a class. I think this is top of the list because it makes me feel like some back up plan. <i>'If I don't have a doctor's appointment, if I don't have an event at school, if I don't have any other tuitions/ classes, then I will attend my chemistry class.'</i> Sometimes I feel like this is the thought process that goes inside a student's head. Just because I take classes online or from home does not mean that all of my time is free time. What sucks even more is when they say <i>"I forgot about class"</i>. Nothing annoys me more than that.<br />
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Another problem I face, now this is more with the parents than the student, is when they tellme that their child is still not improving, and they know for a fact that the child has not been regular to class. I had a student who would turn up for 3 out of 4 classes in a month <i>(yes she only came for 4 classes because she was so busy with 5 other classes, that she only had time for 1 class a week for chemistry)</i>, sometimes it would only be 2 classes in a month, and the mother kept asking me why she was not getting beyond 70% in her chemistry papers. Really now, I wonder why?<br />
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There is also this set of parents who will realise that their child needs help in chemistry only 2 months before the Finals, and then request me to <i>"just clarify the child's doubts and give a few tips and tricks to ensure that he/ she is able to get 95 or more"</i>. I get reassurances that the child will attend as many classes as needed in a week so long as it does not clash with his Maths, Physics, Computer or Hindi classes, and that he will work really hard and write as many papers possible. How much did the child get in the Mock exam ? -70 or so. Oh I'm sorry, do I look like Jesus or Sai Baba. I am not miracle worker.<br />
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<b>Tests/ Homework etc.</b> </div>
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I don't give a lot of homework. Actually I barely give any homework for one simple reason- It is a waste of time. I spend 2 hours finding questions and compiling it to send to the student, and the child, more often than not, either does not do it despite repeated reminders, or they do a half hearted job where they have answered only 2 out of 8 questions. Clearly they have not even attempted it. This is why I just prefer to work out questions with hem in class. Atleast I know they don't know anything and can just make them practice.<br />
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I am the type of teacher who believes in giving the child a lot of freedom. I always check with them about when they would like to do revision, which chapters they want to revise first, and make them set a date to do a mock exam. I think a 16 year old is mature enough to figure a schedule for themselves. But of course, they go to prove me wrong right there. They either postpone the mock exam/ test and never write it. Sometimes I spend a good 6 hours setting a 70 mark paper, scan it and send it to them, only hear that they have no "time" to write a mock exam because they are busy studying. Basically my 6 hour effort is not time spent for setting a paper specifically for them! How is that fair to me. I mean I asked them before getting into it. Some people will complain that I am too nice, but I've seen that being harsh doesn't really help the child do better. So what's the point of that?<br />
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Another thing that especially annoys me with respect to being an online tutor, is when students "answer a test" and I find that most of the answers are straight out of the text book, but the child denies it. Honesty is a thing of the past. There are some parents who will also go to the extent of defending their oh-so-honest child but will not make the effort to ensure that their child is putting in the effort to prepare for a test. Online tutoring has to be a two way street. The parent who is with the child must be<br />
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When I send question papers to my students, I always make sure that I have bright light, and I use Cam Scanner to get a neat scan of the sheets of paper, I number the pages, then I email it. Guess how I get the answer scripts for correction? Pictures clicked with barely any light. Answers out of focus. Pages not numbered. Scrawny scribbling. Questions not numbered. And all of this images sent via whatsapp. I am planning to include the doctor consultation fees and the price of my spectacles in the student's fees from now on. Clearly I require medical reimbursement for all of my effort to correct one answer script. Let's not forget the emotional trauma I go through when I see how terribly the child is faring. Next will begin the search for a good therapist.<br />
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Finally I would like to sum up and say that I have had some fantastic students who are prompt , on time, and worked so very hard. I am extremely proud of them even today. But there are a few students who will remain etched in my memory for all the wrong reasons.<br />
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-Krupa<br />
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misskayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05339847199839612064noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29654517.post-67678950230818573112018-03-26T22:10:00.000+05:302018-03-26T22:11:03.252+05:30The Sorrows of Being a Home Tutor.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It has been 3 years since I quit my job as a full time teacher and have been working for myself. Let's just call it freelance, since that is a more fancy term. As much as I love working from home as a personal tutor, it comes with a set of challenges and hurdles like every other job. I say job, because trust me taking care of the house + trying to have your own set up is double the work. Only a person who is doing it will understand and empathize. </span><br />
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<span data-offset-key="8fh1h-0-0"><span data-text="true"><span style="font-family: inherit;">So a few days ago I had posted on Facebook that I had some mock NEET papers if anyone was interested. I got quite a few responses but sadly none of them were ready to pay for the effort and time I spent in writing these papers. In fact once I mentioned that it was a paid service, people just disappeared without a response. Why would I hand out my hardwork for free is something that I cannot comprehend. Do you know how long it takes to gather questions and type them out and proofread them and make sure that are up to the mark. DO YOU?.</span></span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="8fh1h-0-0"><span data-text="true">The same thing happens when I tell people how much I charge for a single class via Skype. I get inquiries from parents who say that their child definitely needs help blah blah blah. But mention how much they have to pay and then it is silence on the other end of the phone with the awkward "we'll get back to you, ma'am." Sure as hell I will never hear from them again.</span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="8fh1h-0-0"><span data-text="true"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Yes I am frustrated because people will pay tens of thousands to a coaching centre where there are 100 odd students and the same repeated question papers from the previous year, but when someone is giving individual time and effort, it is is brushed off as something not worth paying for. And I ask why not! In what way is a Skype class worth less than any other class. I am still putting in a 100% effort to do the best for your child. </span></span></span></div>
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Then the next issue is when people just assume that you will be free to take class any time because after all you "work from home". I get dime a dozen questions- why do I not take classes on weekends, why not early morning classes, why not classes till 9pm. And of course they think it is it okay to just message me any time saying that their child wants class at so-and-so time on so-and-so date. It isn't a query. It is a command. Because they pay me, I am their beck and call, right? WRONG. </div>
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What I hate even more is when they don't inform me that they cannot attend class on a particular day. I will be signed into Skype and just waiting and waiting but no child turns up. Is it not courtesy to inform a person that you will not be coming for class? It isn't like I have 50 kids so I won't miss one. I was online waiting for you, the one and only child I am teaching during that scheduled time. I could have been clicking pictures for my blog if I had known that the child was not going to turn up, and lets not forget that they have the audacity to ask why I charged for a class that they never attended. I'm sorry, do you ask the school to refund money for the days when your child takes a sick leave? </div>
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People think being a freelancer is fancy, but trust me, it is NOT! It sucks on a bunch of different levels and it is super hard. When your time and effort is not appreciated, it just makes you wonder why on earth you work so hard.</div>
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Despite all my frustration, I have had some wonderful parents and students and that is the only reason that I will continue to do what I am doing. That and the fact that I really do love teaching.</div>
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Right. End of Rant. </div>
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Krupa</div>
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misskayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05339847199839612064noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29654517.post-90226443601712683552017-05-06T11:25:00.001+05:302017-05-09T19:38:05.106+05:306 lessons learnt in 6 months of marriage<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Yes it has been 6 months since I got married. Time Flies would be the understatement of the year. 6 months of being Mrs Krupa. 6 months of living in a new house with a new family. So what have these 6 months been like? Well a roller coaster indeed, but a slightly tame one.<br />
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Here are 6 things that I have learnt in these 6 months of being married.<br />
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<b>1) Wedding Albums are the the most tiring job.</b><br />
When I said 6 months of being married, I am sure the thought crossed your mind that you haven't seen my wedding pictures yet. Well if you are friends with my dad on Facebook you would have seen some snippets, but the album is not yet printed and I have not yet updated any pictures on my Facebook yet. Why?? Well the first 2,3 months just seeing the pictures got me very emotional and I all I could do was stare the pictures and not really think logically about what to print and what to discard. The next 2-3 months just went by in a whirl of household duties, travel and general laziness. Honestly putting together the album was not as fun as posing for it was.<br />
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<b>2) Don't opt to make Puri when you are heading out for the day.</b><br />
Did that title make you go 'eh'?? Well the story goes like this. I really wanted to make puri sagoo one weekend as breakfast and it so happened that I ended up making this on a day when I had to head out in the morning. It took me well over 60 minutes to roll out about 40 odd puris and lets not forget another hour to get the sagoo done before that. What's the lesson learnt here? A major one in time management. Don't choose to go in for elaborate menus when you need to go out. You don't need to try and impress anyone.<br />
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<b>3) There is still an 'I' in Marriage</b><br />
I still refer to the wedding as MY wedding when I talk to my husband, and he looks at me and says -OUR wedding. So yes there is a lot of WE, US, OURS in a marriage, but that doesn't mean there is no I.<br />
I still go to meet up with my friends, I still blog and take tuition. He still plays cricket. I still wear makeup and shoot outfit pics. He still heads out for badminton over the week. So every activity is not an us activity and it is totally okay. It is good in fact to have your own hobbies. Definitely keeps you sane.<br />
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<b>4) Spontaneity is enjoyable when you plan in advance.</b><br />
Before the wedding my husband warned me that he loves late night drives, random visits to the ice cream parlour, and spontaneous travel plans. I am like the least spontaneous person. My OCD for being planned is real and can be a bit of a problem at times. However post marriage there have been too many circumstances where I have had to drop all of my plans and just go with the flow. Of course I was annoyed initially, but then I figured that I only was I could really enjoy impulsive plans is by finishing up my work in advance. Like for example, this post is being drafted 3 days before it has to go live. Now even if I cannot look at the laptop for the next 3 days, I still have the post all ready to go and I am not going to be all cranky because I didn't get this up on the 9th.<br />
But to be honest, I do kind of enjoy the random visits for pancakes at 10pm, so being spontaneous is not all bad.<br />
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<b>5) Going home means 1 of 2 places.</b><br />
They say home is where the heart is right? Well my heart is torn between Bangalore and Chennai. How do I know this?<br />
When we went on a trip recently and I recall thinking to myself, I cannot wait to get home i.e. back to Chennai. I smiled at that thought because I realised that I had accepted it as home. It was my new sanctuary, my place to be me, my room, my bed, my wardrobe brimming with clothes<i> (Okay I mean our room, our bed,and our wardrobe but you get the point right?). </i><br />
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<b>6 ) Marriage is only as hard as you make it.</b><br />
A lot of people told me that you need to work on your marriage every day. The relationship needs to be nurtured and taken care of. You need to put in effort to keep things smooth. 6 months down the line I find myself wondering why marriage is hard. Yes of course it needs some adjustments every now and then, but isn't that the case even with your friends and siblings. No one ever comments that friendship requires work to be maintained. Nope, all they say is that if you are truly friends then you can just pick up from anywhere.<br />
Well I think being married is just the same. It is only as hard as you decide to make it.<br />
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krupa<br />
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misskayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05339847199839612064noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29654517.post-82780297503456282602017-03-26T11:30:00.000+05:302017-03-26T11:30:03.719+05:30The Story of How I said Yes.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
So yesterday was the story of how Come See the Girl happened. Today is the story of how I said yes.<br />
I could cut the long story short and give you a summary, but what's the fun in that?<br />
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So the day after Come and See the girl, we decided to go and see the boy in his house. Why was I going to meet a guy I had already seen? I had a very simple logic to it, which was that people show their true colours in their natural habitat. So seeing the guy in his house might give me a bit more insight into who he was. Maybe there was something I had missed out on during our one hour conversations over the phone or maybe something I didn't notice when he came to meet us the previous day. Maybe I was looking for a reason to get out of this. Maybe I wasn't sure why I was saying maybe even though I wanted to say yes.<br />
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We reached their house and I walked into the door to find a swing in the middle of the house. The smile that crept up on my face was just unmistakable. I turned to see my father enter the house and smile at me. Both of us knew we were in the right place. This was THE house. The peacefulness that set over us as we sat on that oonjal (swing) was just indescribable.<br />
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After the formalities of being stuffed with tea, kesari and bonda, we all looked at each other knowing that it was time to leave, but no one was sure of the next step. And now comes the twist in the tale.<br />
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My father turned to tell his father that they would talk to the girl aka me, and come to a decision soon. However my father-in-law-to-be clearly didn't want to wait. He looked me in the eye (and I was sitting right opposite him) and asked <i>" What do you say ma?"</i><br />
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I said <i><b>"I'm okay"</b></i>.<br />
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What ensued next was 3 seconds of pin drop silence and then mayhem.<br />
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My father looked at the boy to ask if he was okay with it. My aunt and uncle were already discussing possible marriage halls and potential caterers with my mother-in-law-to-be. The guy, whom I had just said yes to, was trying to catch my eye to see if I was truly okay with it. My mom sidled over to me, held my hand and whispered in my ear <i>"are you sure?"</i>. I nodded a yes and looked up to see my father looking at me with this mixture of happiness and worry in his eyes. He raised his eyebrows and I smiled to assure him about my decision. He smiled back. We both had tears in our eyes. Controlled ones. Emotional fools that we are.<br />
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I texted my sister to tell her I had said yes. I had said yes to getting married and she hadn't even seen the guy. What was I thinking?? Panic set in at this point. What had I just done?? What was I thinking? Had I been thinking? OMG I was getting MARRIED!!!<br />
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Thousands of emotions washed over me with anxiety and excitement being the most predominant ones. And then he called. He called to say how happy he was that I had said yes. How happy his parents were and that he was thankful to me for saying yes and making everyone happy. Who says thank you?? This was one gem of a guy and I knew at that point that I had a made the right decision. Probably the best decision in my life, but shhhh.. don't let my husband know that.<br />
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krupa</div>
misskayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05339847199839612064noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29654517.post-28293588375747589022017-03-25T10:30:00.000+05:302017-03-25T10:30:38.825+05:30The Ponnu Pathufying Scenes (Come see the girl story)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Marriages are a one long list of customs and rituals. Starting from the process of going through the profiles, rejecting some, saying yes to a few, getting the horoscopes matched and then narrowing down to meeting a person, it is a long journey. What is it like to see profiles on a matrimony site? Well that is a post of its own. One that I have been dying to talk about for a while, but not sure how to do it without offending people. <div>
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Anyway today I am going to talk about the final step in the process before the engagement, the Ponnu Parkadhu which literally translates to "come and see the girl".</div>
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Traditionally the girl is dressed in her best silks, accessorised with gold to show off the status of the family, and asked to bring out the coffee to give to the boy's side. I am refraining from calling him the groom because at this point he is technically not the groom yet. The girl is expected to look all shy, be coy and steal glances at the man who might be her future husband. It is supposed to be the first time their eyes meet and instantaneously wedding bells ring all around. The girl's ability to sing, dance, make coffee, mingle with the family, while maintaining sufficient distance from the boy, yet getting to know him is all tested in one shot. This scene in the movies ranges from being hilarious to humiliating.</div>
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Now in my case, things were fairly different. For starters, I never thought I would be going through this entire rigmarole (a word my teacher in school used to use quite often). Nevertheless, 2-3 weeks after I had started having a conversation with this guy <i>(now my husband)</i>, my parents and his parents were convinced that we had to meet. Okay okay even I wanted to meet him, but I wanted a date. What I got was a room full of people and a chaperoned conversation in a room within the house. Are you rolling on the floor laughing yet? No? Okay I am continuing. </div>
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So we drove down to Chennai one fine Friday. How did I feel at this point? I was excited and anxious. I really didn't know how these things work. Not like I had gotten married before to know how this works. I hadn't told anyone about this situation because I didn't want to jinx it. Sure I liked this guy but was I ready to get married to him? I wasn't sure. <i>(Okay I was lying I kind of knew I wanted to say yes to him but we'll get to that later).</i></div>
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Friday afternoon saw me doing what I love the most- wearing a sari and getting my makeup game on. I had be warned to not go overboard with the makeup. I was wearing my favourite blue sari and tried to look as demure as possible. My instructions were simple- stay inside the AC room until you are called. Ugh! It was so boring. I was texting my sister (who was partying in Goa that day) about how this family was no punctual and I was waiting and waiting for them to come. Then all of a sudden, I was told to come out of the room and serve the bajji. Why not the coffee you ask? Well they were afraid I would trip and spill the coffee along with any hopes of getting this family to say yes to me. </div>
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To add to things I was in this ultimate state of uncontrollable giggles. The situation was just funny to me. I was also itching to get some alone time with him to talk to him. My brilliant idea of going out for a coffee with him <i>(just like in Kalyana Samayal Sadham)</i> was ruined by the fact that his car was parked in an inconvenient place and taking the car out would be a problem. He looked at me with a I'm-so-sorry-because-I-know-this-is-not-what-you-wanted smile, and I had no choice but say okay, lets sit inside the room which has been specifically set up for us to have a "private" conversation. #EMBARRASSING</div>
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After that, we both have no recollection of how the next 2 hours went by. It was just like talking to him over the phone. The comfort level was unbelievable and I knew I had to say yes. But how do I say yes? He never asked me if it was a yes from my end. </div>
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That night I got advise from everyone on why I should yes to this guy. I was told to think about it, to sleep on it, to not think about it, to not get stressed and a whole of gyan about how this was a wonderful family. And thus ended the Ponnu Parthufying. </div>
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So how did I finally say yes you ask? Well that goes up tomorrow.</div>
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And oh if you are wondering why this post goes up today, it is because today marks 1 year since this scenario.</div>
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krupa</div>
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misskayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05339847199839612064noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29654517.post-78847945106390849072016-12-11T21:06:00.002+05:302016-12-11T21:06:28.646+05:30What I don't expect from my husband<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Okay so the previous post was after I said yes. Lets rewind a bit to the start. The very beginning, when my profile was uploaded onto the matrimony website. So a lot of people asked me what I sort of husband I wanted, or what I expected from my husband.<br />
This is what I would have liked to put as a write up on the matrimony site.<br />
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<i>Dear hubby-to-be</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><br /></i>
<i>Lets just clarify a few things right now. I am a strong independent woman. I don't need you to carry my shopping bags, but if you come along it would be great. I get an extra pair of hands and more bags can be carried. I don't need you to know that MAC is a makeup brand, so long as you don't ask me "why do you need one more lipstick", it is all good. I don't need your credit card, but if you do offer to pay I am not going to say no. I don't need your shoulder to cry on, but I would prefer it to a cold pillow. I don't need you to tell me that I look gorgeous, I know it, but if you do it definitely buys you brownie points. You don't have to plan surprises. I get that it may not be your forte, but if you did, I would love you more for just trying. You don't have to remember all of my best friends names, but it would be great if you just told me that you don't remember rather than pretend you do. I don't expect you to understand the pain I go through when I am on my cycle, but don't throw me glances which say "Damn I dunno when she'll have a mood swing now". You don't need to ask my permission for a boys night out, but you sure as hell better have some sense as to when not to go. I don't expect you to understand why I can't stand some of your girl friends, but please don't ask me to be buddies with them.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>In short, I don't expect anything from you except that you should know what I expect.</i><br />
<br />
krupa</div>
misskayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05339847199839612064noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29654517.post-5077371440386103202016-12-06T08:59:00.000+05:302016-12-11T21:02:54.549+05:30I said Yes.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I said yes. I cannot believe I said yes without even thinking. Well more precisely without over thinking. What did I say yes to? I said yes to getting married. To getting married to a guy I've spoken to for less than 2 weeks. To a guy I've never held hands with, or had ice cream with, and never said I love you too. But yes, I said yes to him.<br />
<br />
Me, the girl who has had thoughts of marriage since the age of 22, whose thoughts on marriage have evolved over the years but has not changed from that one basic criteria. The criteria that the guy I marry should let me be who I am. Me, the girl who at the age of 30 was sure that I would land up with one of those very typical thayir sadham loving, showing signs of prosperity around the belly, visits the temple every other day, and says 'abishtu abishtu' at the idea of cooking with garlic and eggs, kind of guy. I said yes to getting married.<br />
<br />
I am not fond of change. This space on the Internet has heard me say that one too many times. I fear change despite knowing that change is the only constant. Yet the last two years has seen me grow with change. It has seen me move from one to another change in my life and I like to believe I have done it with grace. Now comes this. Marriage. The next big change in my life and I said yes to it.<br />
<br />
I know I know that I left a lot of dialogues in my previous post about marriage, about wanting a guy who is like this and who isn't like that, etc etc, blah blah. But would you believe it if I told that I found a guy better than all of that. I'm still learning more about him as each day passes. I am still finding out that he is more than what meets the eye. I am still discovering that he is mature, sensible, grounded, fun and amazingly lovable. But I said yes, because he is the sanity to my craziness. He is the partner in crime, the shoulder to cry on, the friend, the roomate and more importantly he's The One.<br />
<br />
I said yes because when I wrote about what I wanted in a guy to get married to him, I never thought I would find it. I am not getting my simple wedding, but in comparison to the lifetime of happiness that I am getting, it seemed like a small sacrifice. So I said yes. Yes I am getting married.<br />
<br />
krupa<br />
<br /></div>
misskayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05339847199839612064noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29654517.post-88644992096112926922016-03-14T20:39:00.001+05:302016-03-14T20:39:56.466+05:30Gender Equality and the Men in the world.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It is very rare that I get fired up by a social cause and talk about it on a public forum. I am not one of those women who advocates Feminism with my every breath (I mean if the guy wants to get the bill and open doors for me, I am not complaining), but I do believe that gender equality and breaking stereotypes is important. Especially for the upcoming generations.<br />
<br />
I recently came across a video on YouTube where the UN has brought in 7 YouTubers as Change Ambassadors. All 7 are women. While it is heartening to see that so many women are standing up and being represented, why only women?? Why has the UN not recruited any men from the world of YouTube as Change Ambassadors? Are men happy that they are always portrayed as muscular and strong and the one who isn't allowed to cry?<br />
<br />
Why is it that it is always women who are seen to be in the forefront of change when it comes to inequality? Are the men too busy making money and careers to care about it? Or are they not being given a platform?<br />
<br />
Some time last year, Vogue has put out a beautiful video which was called #StartWithTheBoys. It talked about how from a very young age, a baby boy is taught to not cry to express his emotion. No wonder they have issues talking about how they feel as they grow older. Having worked with a very interesting age group of kids (14-19), I know how hard it is to get a guy to express his emotions. I have struggled and sometimes, I have written it off as hormones. In his head it is is either anger or happiness, that's all. Two ends of the spectrum. What happens to every thing else that he feels? Are those not emotions worth being talked about? Is he not allowed to be upset and show that he is upset but not angry?<br />
<br />
Most women complain that she can never get through to her guy. That her husband/ boyfriend/ fiancee/bestie/ brother is incapable of having a conversation without it turning into a shouting match and this usually ends with the woman saying "fine" and the man reading it as "oh now she is pissed with me and I have to give up what I want for her because she is weaker".<br />
<br />
Men are sensitive too. They are just bad are accepting it. They mask every emotion because it is what they have been taught to do. It is what they have been told to do. It was what they believe to be acceptable.<br />
<br />
I think what I am trying to say is that while I applaud the UN for having gender equality as one of their 17 sustainable goals, maybe, just maybe, they need to go about it in a different way.<br />
<br />
I loved Emma Watson's speech- He for She. She has all the right points in place. But I would love for it to come from a man as well.<br />
<br />
Now you may ask how am I doing anything about this. Well for starters, my fashion blogs always features real people, The guys with the beer bellies, the short petite women, the acne riddled faces (such as my own). This is me telling the world that I believe that models for a fashion blog need not be perfect. I don't need your toned, 6 pack ab to showcase my styling and the brands that I feature. And I sure as hell am not going to photoshop it in. Real people. Real stories. That is what my fashion blog is about.<br />
<br />
Secondly, I like to believe that I have given my students and friends and family the comfort level to come and talk to me about anything. No judgement will be passed. If it is a guy who wants to cry about how a girl who secretly had a crush on for 4 years broke his heart, I am there to hear it. When my mom wants to prove that she can still lift suitcases from the attic all by herself, I stand by her (inside I do cringe and worry that she may hurt her back but that is because of the age and not the gender). When my sister come back after a gig at 2am, I tell my parents to not worry 'because she is a girl'.<br />
<br />
Thirdly, I don't usually talk about controversial topics only because I find that the discussions (read as comments) that follow are totally useless and not helpful. However starting with this post, I am going to make myself heard a lot more especially if it something that I think can be changed. If I can help change even one person, I will be happy.<br />
<br />
So my darling students and my friends, this is for you.<br />
<br />
To girls out there- encourage the men in your life to talk. It takes time and he may surprise you (remember Paul Stevens. The older man that Rachel dates in FRIENDS and how he never stops crying in one episode). But do it. You need to be the role model for the next generation of girls who are never going to understand that feminism is not about fighting for women alone unless they see that the coin has two sides.<br />
<br />
To the guys out there- There is nothing wrong with getting touch with your emotional side and expressing it. Okay sure maybe you don't want to be crying on a date but find a way to express it. Write prose, write poetry, shout it out, whisper it. but get it out of your system. It is not macho to get drunk to and send emo-shit messages to the women in your life. You are human. You are supposed to have emotions to express. If you don't, then you are definitely classified as a robot. You need to be the role models for the next generations of men who are going to grow up wondering who they actually in a world that will be divided as Feminists and non feminists.<br />
<br />
Gender equality, people, that means both genders are important and must be respected like that. We both have role to play in society and that role is defined by each person, not society. No man/ woman is an island. Lets not forget that.<br />
<br />
krupa<br />
<br />
P.S while the trigger point was the video that I watched recently, this is a topic that has been on my mind for a while. I am not trying to trigger any sort of an argument or ruffle up any feathers in the wrong way.<br />
<br />
My blog. My opinion. Period.</div>
misskayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05339847199839612064noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29654517.post-79829175114676822722015-12-13T20:14:00.002+05:302015-12-13T20:14:13.756+05:30On Popular Demand : The 30th Birthday.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
So they say that anything done for 30 days becomes a habit. I never thought that I would get hooked onto writing like this. It is beyond just cathartic. I am now addicted. This is my morphine, my vicodin, my cannabis.<br />
<br />
It has been a week since I wrote and my fingers have literally been itching to type away. The clickety clack of the keyboard, the words rumbling around in my head till they form on the screen making some sort of sense, the images playing in front of my eyes as if on replay, all of this has been sorely missed. That's why I am back here.<br />
<br />
That and the fact that it was sort of hinted more than once that I needed to write about my 30th birthday and how some people had made it totally special. I decided to be generous and make some space in my online world for them.<br />
<br />
Okay just kidding. There were no threats made, but I think my cousin and her husband definitely need to be thanked because without them this Singapore trip would not have happened. (that's how thanksgiving speeches begin). Also I know that they were the ones under a LOT of pressure to make this birthday extra special, which they did and this is sort of my way of telling them how much I love them for it.<br />
<br />
So what did I do on my birthday?<br />
I went from adult to child to adult again. Confused??<br />
<br />
The night before saw me being a proper 30 year old, drinking champagne<i> (not liking it and pouring the rest of it into my friend's glass)</i>, getting cake smeared on my face and my beautifully highlighted hair, and getting phone calls from my family. Btw the cake was outstanding and definitely one of the best cakes ever!<br />
<br />
On 5th morning, the child in me <i>(more like the nerd/teacher in me) </i>wanted to go the Science centre and just get lost in the midst of the world of experiments and learning. Absolutely loved every minute of it. Maybe even more than my 9 year old nephew did.<br />
Then, since I had taken the rains from Bangalore along with me, we got caught in the middle of a thunderstorm<i> (mind you, the thunder is really loud in Singapore. like scary loud)</i> and got drenched while running towards a food court.<br />
<br />
Normally I am like cat and like to curl up inside when it rains, Nope not a fan of getting wet. However I do believe that if you are setting out to do an activity, you must do it justice. I was on holiday. I was there to enjoy and experience every minute of Singapore life and if that meant running in the rain in a summer dress, then so be it.<br />
<br />
After all of this we landed back home and one of my best friends<i> (who happens to live in Singapore)</i> took me to this beautiful restaurant, Level 33, for dinner. Like the name suggests, it is the 33rd floor of tower 2 in the Marina Bay Financial towers, from where you are a part of the skyline and you get to see the harbour front etc etc all lit up. Breath taking. The perfect way to end a beautiful day with some olives and good company.<br />
<br />
All in all a great birthday. I know my best friend's sister will beg to differ since I did not cry on my birthday and there is a common rumour that Krupa's birthday can be classified under "best birthday ever" only if I have shed a few tears. I am neither going to agree with that nor disagree with that, and end this blog post on that note.<br />
<br />
So here;s more trips, more birthdays, more experiences, and lots more writing.<br />
<br />
Cheers to 30!<br />
<br />
Krupa<br />
<br />
P.S nope I am not doing #365daysto31 nor am I taking up the rigorous task of blogging with a schedule here. </div>
misskayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05339847199839612064noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29654517.post-64762572026895798932015-12-05T01:33:00.000+05:302015-12-05T01:33:00.426+05:30#30DaysToThirty: The End... Or the beginning?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>On this day, Dec 5th, 30 years ago, in 1985, at this time (1.33am), a baby girl was born. Her father had been with her mother up until Dec 4th night. He took a train back to Bangalore from Coimbatore and promised to come back the following weekend. Somewhere in the middle of the night he woke up with a thought, what if his baby had been born already? His gut feeling was perfect. When he landed in office the next morning he got the news that his wife had delivered a healthy baby girl. His first child.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Now 30 years later, she sits here, typing away. </i><br />
<br />
<br />
I know that technically yesterday's post was the 30th post, but I couldn't resist sharing this small story with everyone.<br />
<br />When I took up the challenge to write a post every day for 30 days, I was excited. I never thought how hard it would be. Drawing the line between what could be shared on a public forum without comprising on the quality of the content was really difficult. I had to really dig deep for some of the posts, but the response I got was overwhelming. It reassured me that I am a good writer, that I do have the capacity to entertain people and make them come back to read more.<br />
<br />
Thank you for being such a wonderful audience.<br />
<br />
This is the end of #30daystothirty, but my saga continues....<br />
<br />
krupa<br />
<br />
BTW this post was scheduled to go up at 1.33am. </div>
misskayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05339847199839612064noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29654517.post-48277397159150140612015-12-04T20:00:00.000+05:302015-12-04T20:00:01.286+05:30#30DaysToThirty: Thoughts of a 30 year old on marriage.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Taking a small break from the birthday posts, this is something that I contemplated writing after I turned 30, but no, I think I'm ready for it now.<br />
<br />
Yes I am 30 and yes I am not married. Nope I am not secretly in love with someone. Nope I am not rebelling against marriage. And no, nothing is wrong with me. I am perfectly healthy- physically and mentally. I am also ready to get married. But things don't just happen when you want, right? Some things take time to happen. You have to give it that time. I understand that. Why doesn't the rest of the world?<br />
<br />
"What have my parents been doing for so long", some nosy people ask. My parents have been living their life and letting me live mine. Whoever said that getting their daughter married was their sole purpose in life? And please don't tell me it is their "job/duty"? By the way, if parenting was considered as a duty, then mind you getting me married doesn't end their call of duty.<br />
<br />
What do I want from a groom, asks everyone. Good question. I wish that answer was simple. I want everything. A friend, a roommate, a party planner, a partner in crime, a person who thinks like me, but is nothing like me. A guy who can handle tears, and one who can write well. A man who knows when to stand up for me and when to let me face the fire. A person to sit on the sofa beside me and read a book, one to walk along the streets and hold my hand. A man who doesn't shy away from PDA, but also knows that he doesn't have to assert his right over me in front of my guy friends. A guy who can accept my guy friends, because lets face it, I have more of them in my contacts list. A person who understands that I need my time alone and I need my girly gossip time. A man who surprises me with flowers mid week and understands I like to shop alone. A guy who doesn't sympathize with me only at 'that time of the month' and a guy who doesn't write off my mood swings as PMS. A person who can talk sports and politics with my sister, because I know nothing on those. That special someone to balance my hyperness and also understand how much I love life. A guy who never compares me to his mother, sister, or ex girlfriend. A guy willing to cry to me (not literally) about how his ex broke his heart. That person who understands that I have secrets that I don't wish to share. Someone who can accept that I too have a past , but my present and future is with him. The sanity to my craziness.<br />
<br />
<br />
I want a simple wedding. I don't have the patience to go through 5 dress changes and allow 7 ladies to stand in the room and watch as one <i>patti</i> ties that 9 yard sari, while the rest just throw about their 2 cents worth of knowledge. I really don't care who did all the work and how someone else took all the credit for it. I don't want to have the bride's room filled with boxes and boxes of stuff that are not the bride's and everyone just walks in and out of the room like it is a train station. I am too old to sleep at 1am and get up at 3am to wash my hair in cold water and wait for a makeup artist to do my makeup and hair while I sit in a blouse and petticoat and the damn 'candid' photographer hovers around trying to click pictures of me that look natural yet not obscene <i>(remember I have not yet draped the sari).</i> I don't want to hear how my dad's third cousin's wife's sister whines about getting a sari worth only 2000INR while my mother's second cousin's granddaughter got a sari worth 300INR. <i>(why do we give saris to everyone? I don't get it. I mean I am the one getting married, why does everyone else need gifts?).</i> And don't even get me started on how I have to not eat food till 4pm <i>(after waking up at 3am)</i> but everyone else gets to rave about the amazing <i>pal payasam</i>. After all that I will barely remember even a moment of the wedding and will have to hear everyone, and I mean everyone, give me their version of what happened.<br />
<br />
All I want is to exchange garlands, sit on my daddy's lap, get a thaali tied, cry a bit, get the marriage certified by a registrar and then get on with living my life. I suppose that isn't too hard now, is it?<br />
<br />
Okay who am I kidding, we all know that while this makes for a great blog post and a very vague possibility, I have zero control over how things will actually pan out, but well. this is what would be on my mind. Thoughts of a 30 year old on marriage.<br />
<br />
krupa </div>
misskayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05339847199839612064noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29654517.post-42136811262119541142015-12-03T22:00:00.000+05:302015-12-03T22:00:01.833+05:30#30DaysToThirty: Diary entry from novemeber 4th.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
November 4th, 2015<br />
<br />
<i>Dear Diary</i><br />
<i>So yesterday we all realised that the month of November and December was going to be crazy and all four of us would be travelling. In fact, we would be in different places for my 30th birthday. That weekend is NH7 so my sister would be in Pune or Bangalore. Mom and dad would be heading to a wedding in Coimbatore. I was supposed to go with them, because it is Janaki aunty's daughter's wedding, but I just can't. In fact I don't think I can make it to Shyam's wedding as well which is just a day before that. As okay as I am with the fact that marriage just isn't on the cards for me yet, I am not okay to celebrate someone else's special day when I turn 30! Dec 5th should be my special day. All the attention and limelight has to be on me. Period. So I made a decision, I am not attending any weddings. I am going to stay right here, in Bangalore. I have enough people with whom I do want to celebrate my birthday with. There is Nandu and Sharad and Francis and Ranju. Let me not forget Poove and Amith. I have all the people that I love right here. What more do I need??</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Well this is what I thought, but I didn't know that my family had a different plan altogether.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>My dad insisted that we go out for dinner tonight. A birthday celebration a month in advance. He was so insistent. Sometimes dad can just be a pain. But anyway, I love eating out, so we got ready and went. We decided to try Imli. Oh man, the bindi fry was just amazing!!! And the sabudana vada too. I am totally going back there for those two dishes. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>After dinner, my sister kept a wrapped package next to me. A birthday gift already? Wow!! In my sister's typical style, she had wrapped it in multiple layers and there was a note on each layer. Oh I have to tell what each note said. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Note 1: DON'T MAKE PLANS FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY (we already have...)</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Note 2: Bring in the new decade in a new country </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Note 3: We don't know about spa, but you can spend the weekend with Meena </i><br />
<i>Do you remember that I had made plans with Meena last year on my birthday to have a spa session with her for my 30th. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>OMG!! Like what the hell just happened?? You know me. I was obviously in tears by the time I finished opening the last layer of wrapping. In there lay my passport and tickets to SINGAPORE.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>I was touched. Actually that would be an understatement. To get a family like this, I must have done something right, right?? I am actually holding back my tears as I write this. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Wooohhoo!! Singapore here I come!! </i><br />
<br />
<br />
Okay so yes, the cat is out of the bag. As you all read this I will be on my way to Singapore. This marks the 29th post, by the way.<br />
<br />
krupa<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
misskayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05339847199839612064noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29654517.post-73637156523976846422015-12-02T20:21:00.001+05:302015-12-02T20:21:23.489+05:30#30DaysToThirty: Best gifts in 30 years<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
If you tell me that you don't like getting gifts on your birthday, then you are a person that I don't want to know.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Here are some of my favourite gifts so far no a random order.</div>
<div>
<ol style="text-align: left;">
<li>Miniature DIY doll house</li>
<li>My first makeup kit</li>
<li>My only Barbie</li>
<li>A teenage mutant ninja turtles card</li>
<li>Handmade paper mache pen stand.</li>
<li>Box of 27 gifts</li>
<li>Silver pendant with my name engraved</li>
<li>My first salsa dress</li>
<li>A helmet filled with birthday messages on sticky notes. </li>
<li>Handmade cards</li>
<li>My first bank account with money it of course.</li>
<li>Framed collage of pics with my 10 C gang</li>
<li>Handmade photoframe with a pic of me dancing in it.</li>
<li>My blue cap</li>
<li>Chain and earrings with my birthstone</li>
<li>Ghajini music cassette</li>
<li>Green bandhini dupatta</li>
<li>A blue sari</li>
<li>Pink carnations</li>
<li>Tickets to a Suriya movie</li>
<li>A box of doughnuts.</li>
<li>Black blazer from Stalk Buy Love </li>
<li>Sherry, my doggy doll.</li>
<li>Aldo wallet</li>
<li>Cup cakes with 10 C forever written on it.</li>
<li>A powerpoint with pictures and voice recording of all my friends.</li>
<li>A booklet with discount coupons</li>
<li>Bobbi brown gel eyeliner</li>
<li>Vincent chase sunglasses</li>
<li>Tickets to Singapore</li>
</ol>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Yes yes I am a materialistic person. But hello, how many of you remember gifts that you were given at the age of 5? I do.<br />
<br />
Countdown to the birthday continues<br />
<br />
krupa</div>
</div>
misskayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05339847199839612064noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29654517.post-56762086056427105142015-12-01T22:02:00.002+05:302015-12-01T22:02:53.188+05:30#30DaysToThirty: How I almost ruined my 16th Birthday.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
By now all of you know that I am one of those people who always has expectations for her birthday and I LOVE planning my birthday. Now when I was turning 16, I took it into my head that I wanted a surprise party <i>(clearly influenced by the chick flicks I saw)</i>. Now how does one arrange their own surprise party?? You don't. You just relax and hope that someone will do it for you. Or better still, it will happen when you least expect it <i>(like my 18th birthday)</i><br />
<br />
Try that reasoning with a overly imaginative, super excited 15 year old girl. It just doesn't work. I had dropped all sorts of hints about wanting a surprise party and waited for it to happen. And I waited and waited. I was very sincerely hoping that someone would slip and I would get to know that some planning was happening. As it go closer and closer to my birthday I started to worry. Being the control freak that I am, I just needed to know that my birthday was going to be special, and my mom and friends seemed to be doing nothing about it.<br />
<br />
Finally two days before my birthday I walked up to my mom and said that I want to call all my friends and have a party. She said okay and did the necessary arrangements. I invited all of my 10 C gang and so much fun. It was one of the best parties.<br />
<br />
Okay so my birthday was done, then I got to know that a surprise party was actually being planned and I had completely ruined the "surprise" part of it. Hey in my defense, how was I to know that something was being planned. I just knew that I wanted to have a good time on my birthday.<br />
<br />
I know my mother and best friend still talk about that till date.<br />
<br />
And that's the story of how I almost ruined my 16th birthday. Almost.<br />
<br />
krupa</div>
misskayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05339847199839612064noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29654517.post-77654296261467325512015-11-30T21:05:00.001+05:302015-11-30T21:05:13.021+05:30#30DaysToThirty: The Preparations for the BIG Day<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I know this is the kind of post that most people do when they are getting married- the countdown to the big day. Who says only weddings are important! For me my birthday is important. Period.<br />
<br />
And well it seemed apt that on the 30th, I did a post about the preparations involved for the 30th birthday. It is a standard joke in my house and among friends that as soon as one birthday gets over, I start planning for the next birthday, 364 days in advance. Not completely true, but not exactly false as well.<br />
<br />
Anyway here are thirty things I have done so far in preparation for the big THREE OH!<br />
<br />
<ol style="text-align: left;">
<li>Whined about having to spend my birthday alone.</li>
<li>Went for a family dinner 30 days before the big day.</li>
<li>Cried with joy at the beautiful gift that my family gave to me a month in advance (more on that later)</li>
<li>Took up a blogging challenge of a blog post every day till my birthday</li>
<li>Started planning for my big trip. (related to point no.3)</li>
<li>Had a party with an amazing bunch of friends as a pre birthday celebration.</li>
<li>Cut a birthday cake</li>
<li>Stayed up till 4am and felt like a zombie all day the next day.</li>
<li>Got sunglasses as a gift.</li>
<li>Spend hours looking for inspiration as to how I would like my hair makeover to be.</li>
<li>Cut my hair</li>
<li>Get highlights.</li>
<li>Had a relaxing hair spa session.</li>
<li>Got a black dress stitched</li>
<li>Reminisced about previous birthdays.</li>
<li>Went roaming on the streets of Bombay looking for a belt for my new dress</li>
<li>Went shopping for the big trip</li>
<li>Sent loads of pictures to my friends after my hair transformation</li>
<li>Complained about how I need to lose weight.</li>
<li>Researched online about things to do on my big trip.</li>
<li>Got very apprehensive about taking a trip alone. </li>
<li>Jumped around in excitement when my birthday dress came on the same day as my hair transformation</li>
<li>Got lost on the way Phoenix Market City</li>
<li>Made loads of To-Do lists.</li>
<li>Travelled back alone from the airport for the first time</li>
<li>Told random strangers that I turn 30 soon. </li>
<li>Started packing.</li>
<li>Texted my friends whom I going to meet on my big trip and made sure that they were as excited about my birthday as I was.</li>
<li>Mentally prepared myself for the idea of my first semi-solo trip</li>
<li>Write out this list.</li>
</ol>
<br /><br />
And we have 5 days to go still, let the countown begin.<br />
<br />
krupa</div>
misskayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05339847199839612064noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29654517.post-50861145939117810842015-11-29T21:00:00.000+05:302015-11-29T21:23:34.370+05:30#30DaysToThirty: Letter to 40 year old me.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Dear 40 year old me<br />
<br />
I hope you are married by now. Oh Dear God, I pray that you are married by the time you are 40. You have no F.R.I.E.N.D.S style pacts with anyone, so if you aren't married by the time you are 40, then for sure you will continue to grow in a crabby spinster. <br />
<br />
If things go well your skin should have cleared up atleast by then. I know you look like an awkward overgrown teenager with painful pimples and acne scarring. Don't lose hope. Just come to terms with the fact that you will have a lot more crows feet and wrinkles than you do now. <br />
<br />
The one thing I know you take a lot of pride in is your beautiful hair. It isn't going remain as it is forever. Accept the numerous white hair that will join the existing 10 strands that have already appeared. You could still look elegant with white hair. You never know. <br />
<br />
Don't give upon blogging. No matter how many children you have <i>(not more than two I hope),</i> no matter how hectic your job is <i>(assuming you will still be working)</i>, take the time to write and blog. The happiness this gives you can never be replaced by anything else. <br />
<br />
Learn about finances. I know that anything beyond the basic RD and FD is slightly overwhelming, but you need to know where your money is going. You also need to know what are the oh-so many investments that your daddy has made. I mean you will be 40, you can't keep asking him every time you have to file Income Tax. <br />
<br />
I know you are a good cook and that you enjoy cooking, but you really need to cook faster. I mean you can't take an hour and a half to make, rice, rasam and potato curry. At this rate you may have to start cooking breakfast from the night before.<br />
<br />
Continue to do yoga and start meditation. Everyone knows that ageing gracefully includes good mental health and physical health. I am sure you will still be dancing around the house at the age of 40, but you will need some form of actual exercise.<br />
<br />
Have friends younger than you. There is nothing more rejuvenating than having a conversation with a fresh voice. Younger people always have a different perspective to throw at you. Look at life through their eyes. It could be just what you need to get out of a rut.<br />
<br />
Last but not in any way the least, enjoy being alone. Now that you know it isn't so bad, relish the ME time you get because you surely are not going to be a lot of that in the years to come. Go for spa days, pamper yourself, go out for a cup of tea and read a good book.<br />
<br />
Cheers to an older, hopefully wiser you.<br />
<br />
With love<br />
<br />
30 year old me.<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
misskayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05339847199839612064noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29654517.post-39008061868001485602015-11-28T22:21:00.000+05:302015-11-28T22:23:28.458+05:30#30DaysToThirty: 29th birthday<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
So with a week to go, I thought I would reminisce a bit about last year's birthday.<br />
<br />
It fell on a Friday and I had gone for an awesome hair spa the day before and of course a haircut. It so happened that one of my best friends was in town that day and he came home for breakfast. I went to my old work place for lunch and dinner was with family. The highlight of the birthday was actually the next day.<br />
<br />
I had planned a full fledged party with school friends. A birthday party the way it should be. Cake, balloons, chips, and snacks.<br />
<br />
Another friend, who's birthday is just two days after mine arranged for some games. All Minute To Win It style games.<br />
<br />
Everyone was a bit skeptical about playing games, I mean we are almost 30, but it was great fun!! I mean everyone was roaring with laughter and getting competitive. It was amazing to see how much team spirit was there and of course some teasing. It was like our basic skills were being tested. Can you throw a ping pong ball? Can you balance items one on top of the other? We all bonded, well re bonded.<br />
<br />
<br />
Age is just a number after all.<br />
<br />
regards<br />
Krupa <br />
<br />
<br /></div>
misskayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05339847199839612064noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29654517.post-73030342242516798502015-11-27T22:57:00.001+05:302015-11-27T22:57:51.389+05:30#30DaysToThirty: why there is no proper post today<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
So a week to go for my birthday and I am already partying!!! We'll talk about that in another post. But for today some of my closest, bestest, most awesome friends are here and they refuse to let me be anti social and blog for the day<br />
<br />
I have already had the best time this evening so far with German chocolate cake and some red wine and of course baby corn machurian. But more importantly I brought together a bunch of random people who have just clicked and are roaring with laughter in the background as I type. I must go join them because these moments are meant to captured in my memory forever After all, you turn 30 only once right!!!<br />
<br />
Till tomorrow<br />
<br />
TC<br />
<br />
krupa</div>
misskayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05339847199839612064noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29654517.post-44634213854325329582015-11-26T22:12:00.001+05:302015-11-27T12:46:37.489+05:30#30DaysToThirty: KIA 7A<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Sometimes, we just meet random people and click with them. Last Tuesday I flew back to Bangalore from Mumbai and took a bus to get back home.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<i>Confession: I am one of those pampered people whose dad usually books a taxi ride for her. </i></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
This time I decided to take the bus. I know that there are airport buses that stop pretty close by my place. I had had a terrible flight. The back row was filled with kids. Noisy pain-in-the-ass kids. I wanted to gag them and make them sit down. I mean do they not understand the point of wearing a seat belt. Actually I blame their parents. But anyway...</div>
<div>
The flight was also smelly and.. you get the point. I was in a bad mood by the time I got off and I could not wait to get home.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
To add to my bad mood, the restrooms were all being cleaned. The airport has two restrooms and both of them were being cleaned. AT THE SAME TIME. Where is a woman supposed to empty her bladder?? </div>
<div>
Anyway after a bit of hunting, I found another restroom tucked away in a far corner. Peace at last.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I went out, picked up a Sub for dinner and went to the bus stop. For some reason when I reached the bus stop I was so tired that I pretty much that got into the first bus that went towards my area. This whole while my parents took it in turns to keep whatsapping me and asking whether I got a bus, what the bus number was, whether I bought a ticket etc etc. Then when I told them the bus number, whatsapp messages stopped and I got a phone call. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<i>"Why did you get on this bus? I thought you knew the bus numbers to take. This stops too far away. How will you get home?"</i> My father's voice sounded panicky on the other end. At this point I kind of lost it and told my parents to chill and let me make my own mistakes. Truth be told I was damn annoyed with myself for getting on a bus that didn't reach exactly where I wanted it to and I was tired and grumpy and well my parents were being a bit too protective. I was back on home ground. I could handle this. I finished the phone call and bought the ticket.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The girl in the seat next to me asked me in a concerned tone. <i>"are you new to Bangalore?"</i></div>
<div>
I am pretty sure I grunted instead of replying. But that was the start of a one and half hour long conversation. We talked about annoying kids on the flight, and painful co passengers who believe that the aisle is their private walking path. We talked about protective parents and younger siblings. We pondered on the idea that though we loved having people around, at some point we had started to enjoy being alone. We both hated routine 9-5 jobs and had grown up in Bangalore all our lives. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It was the best one and half hours ever. We talked without asking each other's name till we had to get off. We didn't exchange numbers or even last names. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Strangers on a bus. That's all we were. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Krupa</div>
</div>
misskayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05339847199839612064noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29654517.post-39834756517136198782015-11-25T22:51:00.001+05:302015-11-25T22:51:26.385+05:30#30DaysToThirty: My Daddy Bestest<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The daddy daughter relationship is one that has been written about, spoken about and talked about so much that that beauty of the relationship has been established. I'm not here to add a new dimension to that. On my daddy's 59th birthday I am here to just talk about him. About us.<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I have the gift of the gab, no doubt in that. I get that from my mom. What I do get from my dad is my trusting nature, my attachment to a few select people, my sensitivity, my oh-so big nose and my dazzling smile.</div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
I know my dad always says that he never really knew me till I was in my 8th. Maybe that is true. Partially because he was always so busy working, we never really talked. Plus there isn't much that a 10 year old can really talk to her dad about and connect with him. When he did a two year stint in Calcutta<i> (yes it was still Calcutta then)</i> is when we started to talk. I would regale him with my stories of school <i>(I like to think he enjoyed hearing them as much as I liked telling him) </i>and every day life. Distance does make the heart grow fonder. Even then, it was always me talking. I don't recall ever asking him about his work or how he was <i>(narcissist that I was and am)</i>. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I never really understood what he actually did. I still don't for a lot of the time. No matter how many times he explains to me how mutual funds and equity work, I still stare blankly like I am hearing it for the first time. When he starts to tell me how much has been invested in my name and how I need to be aware of how much insurance I will get when he 'kicks the bucket', makes me tell him to just shut up because who wants to hear their daddy talk about dying. He frowns at my inability to answer 15* 16 in under 10 seconds and cringes when he sees me counting on my fingers to add 234 + 18098 <i>(yes my mental maths sucks and well lets be honest so does my written maths)</i>. I never follow cricket or tennis with him nor can I remember the exact date of when he fractured his ankle. He can never understand that I don't share his love for <i>godhamai halwa</i> (wheat halwa) or<i> vazathandu</i> (curry made from banana stem), and it puzzles him that honey and walnuts make me go yuck.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But I can tell you this. Over 30 years <i>(well almost 30) </i>my daddy has grown, I have have grown and our relationship had matured. We may not have a lot more things in common now, but we do connect way better. I don't understand what it is like to be a parent<i> (not yet)</i> but I do know why he worries more about me than my sister. I now know that the reason he hates to see me cry is not because he can't handle an emotional me, it is because he doesn't like to see me heart broken or disappointed. I know that he knows that I will always be delighted to cook for him when he comes to my place. I know that he has great taste in clothes and accessories and loves pampering me. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
No my dad is not my friend. I don't think parents should be friends. They should be friendly, yes. But they don't need to know about 'that time when you were so drunk you could barely stand' <i>(chill dad, I don't have any such stories)</i>. They do need to know that they can trust you even if they aren't around. They need to feel like that they have brought you up with the right values. I know I have shown my dad that <i>(well I hope so. Right daddy?)</i></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
My dad is my mentor, my protector, my knight in shining armour, my selfie taking partner, my shoulder to cry on, my guinea pig to try my cooking on, my ATM, a fan of my writing, an admirer of my style and most of all, the biggest pillar of support in whatever I do. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I know that somethings will never change. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Happy Birthday Daddy Dearest. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Love </div>
<div>
Krupa</div>
</div>
misskayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05339847199839612064noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29654517.post-91960129432810960172015-11-24T21:00:00.000+05:302015-11-26T09:34:40.979+05:30#30DaysToThirty: Anushka's story<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
After a phone call from my dad asking me based on whom I had written this, I thought I should add a disclaimer.<br />
<b>Disclaimer- The following story is fictional and while it may resemble many of the students I have taught it is inspired by them but not based on any one of them.</b><br />
<em><br /></em>
<em>"Anushka, you've failed again."<o:p></o:p></em><br />
<em>
</em><em>"But I have 68%"<o:p></o:p></em><br />
<em>
</em><em>"Sorry but the cut off is 70%. You will have to leave the
college."<o:p></o:p></em><br />
<em>
</em><em>"No No", she screamed and jumped off the building. Pools of blood
were forming around her as she closed her eyes. The last thing she saw was a copy of her perfect marks card floating down beside her. </em><br />
<br />
*gasp* She woke up to find herself in a pool of sweat. It was just a
nightmare. One that felt unbelievably real. One that could become real one day.
How life had changed in 75 days...<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<br />
75 days ago...<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
She took a deep breath and sighed. All around her was lush greenery with
buildings spaced out between the tall trees and the shrubbery. From her hostel
window she could see the morning fog lift off the lake. The lake was within her
campus. She could barely believe that she was in one of the most prestigious
institutions in the country. This is what she had worked towards for the past 4
years. No wait, 6 years. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
Ever since she had cleared the All India Level Maths Olympiad in class 7, there
were a lot of eyes that followed her journey over the next 3 years as she
continued to clear the Olympiad 3 years in a row and rank 1st. She had been
working diligently since class 7 to maintain her ranking. The kids in her class
who didn't like her termed her as a geek, but it was a label she wore without
any thought. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
Once she had finished her 10<sup>th</sup>, naturally she had wanted to focus
on The entrance and took up a course that ensured that she spent more time
working out problems for the Mains than unnecessary lab work and records for
class. What a sheer waste of time it was to be drawing circuits and cells. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
She had also been the top of her batch for the pre- entrance foundation all
through class 7 to class 10. She thought she had achieved a lot, but her
parents wanted more. She had to clear The entrance. Not just clear but rank within the top 100. They did everything they could to help her.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
Anushka had not watched television in over 4 years. She had no idea that The
Big Bang Theory was a tv program or who this alleged Sheldon Cooper was. The
Big Bang Theory that she knew talked about the physics of the expansion of the
universe. Her parents ensured that she got some free time, but the free time
was only to have meals, not to play basketball or on frivolous activities. What
if she got hurt at a crucial time and couldn't take the exam? The entire two
years were crucial. Socializing was restricted. No one came home and they never
went out except for her 16th birthday. Luckily that had come on a Sunday, so
she spent Sunday evening out with her parents. <br />
<o:p></o:p><br />
Life in her house had come to stand still for the 3 months when she had all
the entrance exams, and the day she had gotten her ranking, she was relieved.
Finally, it was over. She thought she would feel more ecstatic, but she didn’t.
<br />
<o:p></o:p><br />
Now she was finally here. The college of her dreams. Well more like the
college of her parents dreams. As she sat on her bed and watched her roommate
snoring in her sleep, she knew that this had been more of her parents dream,
than hers. But she had to fulfill it right? I mean who else would!! They had
wanted the best for her. And here she was, at the best institution in India. <br />
<o:p></o:p><br />
An engineering degree from here was her passport to universities abroad and
jobs in top notch companies. This was it. Now that she was could finally relax
and live life. Or so she thought.<o:p></o:p><br />
College is hard. Life away from home harder. And after breezing through school, getting into a college that took in only the crème de la crème,
life suddenly became the hardest. Not only did they have to manage classes, and lab work.
But they had all pretty much become part time housekeepers as well. The room had to be
cleaned, you had to ensure that you had clean clothes to wear and no one would
serve meals to your room just because you were studying. You had to go to the
mess and get your own food or starve. All this along with having to study to
maintain a 70% aggregate was starting to take a toll.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
The competition was intense, the course was grueling and her classmates
unyielding. Everyone wanted to prove that they were the best and the concept of
class spirit was unheard of. The pressure was mounting day by day and as it got
closer to the first semester exams one could feel the temperatures rising. <br />
<o:p></o:p><br />
Now, 75 days later she had started to doubt her capability. Was she fit to be
here? Why had she given up writing and her spot on the basketball team for
this? Was this really what she wanted? Maybe she wasn’t good enough to be here.
She had never felt so alone in all her 18 years of being a single child. Little
did she know that this wasn’t only her story. <br />
<br />
krupa<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
misskayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05339847199839612064noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29654517.post-22821953716896472762015-11-23T21:00:00.000+05:302015-11-23T21:00:00.614+05:30#30DaysToThirty: My tryst with dance<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Amazing that in 10 days of blogging I haven't talked about dance and my journey through it. <br />
<br />
My earliest memories of dance go back to when I was about 5 or younger. We were in London and I remember being on stage with a small deepam in my hand. I remember peering out from behind the curtain to see if my parents were in the audience. I remember loving the adrenaline rush of being in the limelight. <br />
<br />
I started learning Bharatnatyam at the age of 5 and half. For a brief period I was learning at Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan somewhere in the heart of London. Our guru was insistent that we wear a sari. It was a white and red sari. We had to wear a tee shirt and leggings underneath. The sari had to be tied at calf length and the knot of the pallu had to sit just at the tail bone. If it wasn't tight enough, then our guru would tighten it such that you can't even imagine hunching. You were forced to keep a straight back and keep your posture perfect. I looked forward to Monday dance classes, I mean there were some incentives that made it better. An awesome mini pizza would be waiting for me when I got back from school. My mom would heat up this mini frozen pizza for me to eat before I rushed off for class that was almost 45 minutes away. <em>(I can still taste that pizza as I talk about it)</em>. After class was done, my neighbour's father would pick us up and sometimes we would stop at MacDonalds on the way back to pick up a small packet of French fries <em>(yes my tryst with French fries goes back almost as long as my love for dance)</em>. Oh how I loved dance classes. <br />
<br />
Then we moved back to India and of course dance had to continue. We went through about 3 dance teachers in a span of 5 years or so. Finally settled on one who made sure I went ahead to do my State Level Junior Exam. Definitely one of my biggest achievements. I went on to continue to learn Bharatnatyam till my 11th standard. <br />
<br />
A lot of people ask me if I have done my arrangetram. and well no I haven't. I very categorically told my parents that I did not want to do it. I just wanted to learn dance because I loved it and not be forced to practice for 4 hours a day to perform a 3 hour solo. Sure it is an amazing opportunity to showcase what you have learnt but it was not for me. <em>(I have a lot of these notions that get stuck in my head)</em><br />
<br />
When you are a dancer, choreography is a natural progression. A lot of these choreographies were for performances with cousins during the summer holidays, or in the apartments with my friends. Come Undone by Duran Duran was one of the first songs I remember choreographing. I think the choreographies that I enjoyed the most were as a teacher. It was great fun to teach the students and get like 40 of them on stage. The stage has literally been rocked!!<br />
<br />
After being a classical dancer for more than a decade, I tried my hand at salsa and western jazz. Jazz was definitely an experience!! I mean it was so different from Bharatnatyam. I had to let go of all the stiffness and allow the movements to just flow. Man I would look at myself dancing and think <em>"Ugh can't you do that pirouette better?"</em> I am my own critic.<br />
<br />
I still dance around the house. I dance when I am sad. I dance when I am happy. I dance when I just need to make myself feel better. Dancing, like writing, has been a way of expression for me. It will always be a part of me. In fact it will always be my identity.<br />
<br />
krupa</div>
misskayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05339847199839612064noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29654517.post-61981986539435588842015-11-22T21:00:00.000+05:302015-11-22T21:00:00.554+05:30#30DaysToThirty: Mumbai calling<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
By the time this post goes up I will be in Mumbai on a quick family vacation.<br />
<br />
The last time I went to Mumbai <i>(rather the first time I went)</i> was in 2010 April/May. It was my first trip to any place above the latitudes and longitudes of Bangalore on my own. Given my knowledge of Hindi <i>(I mean the lack of knowledge)</i> I was pretty apprehensive but also really excited.<br />
<br />
The train journey in itself was an experience. Over 7 hours on my own was interesting. I thought I would be incredibly bored but I kept myself entertained with books and music and eating non stop. Let me not forget the extensive hours of sleeping. Time really passes by quickly when you are snoring on the upper berth.<br />
<br />
I got off at Dadar and went to my aunt's place. I had vada pav on my very first day because my aunt wanted to make sure I had the Bombay food experience.<br />
<br />
I did the usual things that every one does at Mumbai- Gateway of India, Leopald Cafe, street side shopping, local train travel, see Marine Drive, travel for hours to reach from one side to the other and well taking in the sights and smells of Bombay- the city of dreams.<br />
<br />
For me it was definitely felt like a dream to be out there with my friends and as just me.<br />
<br />
It has been 5 years and my memories are starting to fade <i>(#oldage) </i>but there are some incidents/ events that remain fresh.<br />
<br />
My perippa, who I stayed with at the fair end of my journey, was the one who put me on the train back to Bangalore. The food hamper that he packed for me is something I will never forget. Dinner rolls, small packets of butter, a tiny spoon, juice, jam, fruits, tepla and tons of love. I completely enjoyed sitting by the window, buttering the dinner rolls, sipping on coffee and reading a book. It makes me happy that this time I am in Mumbai to celebrate his 60th birthday.<br />
<br />
I stayed a friend's place for a night and well that was the night I got a call from my parents telling me that my dad was going in for a surgery <i>(my family and their history with hospitals is a post of its own). </i>My friend's husband <i>(whom I was meeting for the first time)</i> was truly the biggest sweetheart and wanted to book flight tickets for me to return immediately. I had had an amazing day with the both of them and I was extremely touched by his gesture.<br />
<br />
Surat. In the middle of this trip I did a super fast trip to Surat and back. Having a mama there was useful. My mami, a teacher, was the one who showed me how to tie my sari neatly and elegantly. She also took my shopping and helped me buy my first set of saris for work. Let me not forget all the yummy food that she cooked.<br />
<br />
Last but not in any way the least. My favourite memory of that Mumbai trip wascoming back with 3 bags full (like like Ba Ba Black Sheep). I went with one suitcase and came back with three. In my defense I was just starting my first job and I needed a new wardrobe for it.<br />
<br />
Cheers to more travels like this.<br />
<br />
krupa<br />
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misskayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05339847199839612064noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29654517.post-71867823873755696622015-11-21T20:00:00.000+05:302015-11-21T20:00:00.795+05:30#30DaysToThirty: The Birthday Traditions<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
A friend once described me as " a sunshine birthday" person. Very true and very apt. I love birthdays and of course I love my birthday the most. Like duh. For the first time ever I am going to sharing some of my crazy birthday traditions. Some things that I like to do every year on my birthday and for my birthday.<br />
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All you judgemental people out there this is when you stop reading and step away from the computer..<br />
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<b>1) Stay up till midnight.</b></div>
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I like spend the night before preparing for my birthday. I like to give myself a small pamper session the night before with a pedicure and a manicure. Usually my nails will complement my birthday dress. Though I must mention that with age it is getting harder to stay up till midnight.</div>
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<b>2) Multiple new dresses.</b></div>
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I am super particular about having a new dress on my birthday. Inevitably my tailor messes things up and never gives my dress on time. So I always, and I mean ALWAYS have a back up plan. <i>(The back up plan has also included throwing a fit so my daddy takes me shopping the night before). </i> In fact I love having multiple new clothes for my birthday. It is the best excuse to shop for new stuff. <i>(Not that I need an excuse).</i></div>
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<b>3) The hair cut.</b></div>
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I go for a yearly hair cut before my birthday. Some birthdays I've tried new haircuts and sometimes it is just a trim. I love my hair and well, though I don't go crazy experimenting with it, I do like to step out of my comfort zone once in a while. </div>
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<b>4) The blessings and wishes.</b></div>
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Ever since I was a little girl, my grandparents and aunts and uncles would always be the first ones to call me early in the morning and wish me. Over the years the 6am wishes have now become 10am wishes but my day is not complete if I don't hear from them. One year, I didn't get a call from my maternal grandparents and I called them and asked for their blessings. In fact I even go to the extent of reminding a few key people about my birthday, just to get their wishes. I know there are a lot of people who will read this and say "<i>Sheesh! What a woman. Why can't she just let go of it and let people be?" </i>Well I believe that if someone matters to you, you need to reach out to them. Everyone's lives have just become so hectic that remembering birthdays have become a part to a to-do checklist. My birthday, I want the wishes, whats wrong in me asking for them. Isn't that better than sulking that they forgot?</div>
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<b>5) Getting flowers.</b></div>
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I think there has never been a year when I haven't gotten flowers. And nope I don't ask for flowers. Maybe I ask for gifts :P but not flowers. Yet people always give me flowers. It has become a birthday tradition or the simplest way for people to escape from putting thought into an actual gift. And hell yes, I still expect gifts. I don't see why I shouldn't. Just because I am growing older doesn't mean I've stopped wearing clothes, accessories, perfumes, make up or stopped reading books and watching movies.<i> (those are all the hints I could possibly fit into one line.) </i><br />
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<b>6) The special meal.</b><br />
My mommy is the best. She always cooks something I love for one of the meals. Either pasta, pizza, lasgna, chole batura. No matter what plans I make with friends, one meal is always only with family on my birthday.<br />
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So what's special for your birthday?<br />
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krupa</div>
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misskayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05339847199839612064noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29654517.post-31346589214172661452015-11-20T21:00:00.000+05:302015-11-21T08:23:54.578+05:30#30DaysToThirty: All about quality family time.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I know there probably a bunch of youngesters who will cringe at the idea of "quality time" with the family. As you grow older it sure does become a distant idea. In fact right now in my house we all have such different schedules that it drives my mother insane trying to keep track. My sister has gone to the point where she has a calendar stuck on her door which is updated every day with her upcoming gigs and lunch and dinner appointments. In fact the chances of all four of us being at home at the same time is a rare occasion. This basically translates no family time.<br />
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Sometimes we try and make the effort to have a meal together, to get out as a family and most of the time these planned activities are just a bit of a disaster. There are arguments and heated discussions that mostly end with someone being annoyed and angry.<br />
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The best moments are the unplanned ones.<br />
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It was a cold evening and my sister and I had just got back home after running a bunch of errands. My mom and I hate the cold. In an attempt to warm up a bit, my mom made some soup. My dad was doing some work on the computer. I was writing a question paper and my sister was watching some episode on the laptop.<br />
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The hot soup and buttery toast summoned everyone to table automatically. I talked about my day at work. My sister discussed her December travel plans. My dad got up to make more toast. We sat and joked and laughed and finally decided that pasta salad should be the dinner for the night.<br />
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My sister and I moved to the kitchen to get started with making the pasta. Dad washed the vessels and mom just relaxed reading out some jokes from her whatsapp groups. We gossiped about the extended family a bit, made plans for all the weddings to come and of course talked about how my wedding should NOT be. All this while my sister chopped the veggies, I boiled the pasta then sauteed everything and mixed.<br />
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It was harmony without even trying. No extra effort put to try and have a good time. No talks about how we never have family time. It just happened, like magic. Talk about quality family time.<br />
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krupa.</div>
misskayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05339847199839612064noreply@blogger.com3