The countdown to 30!

So today, I started the countdown to 30. Four months. That seems like very little time to scramble to fulfill life goals that I can do in my twenties. All those articles of 20 things to do in your 20s or whatever, all of them are vividly clear in my head. I am active on Snapchat, trolling Tinder, going to Goa for the weekend, making spontaneous trips to Singapore to meet friends, bunking work because I don’t feel like working, having a friendly relationship with my boss and not having that weird awkward gap between your boss and you (not that this takes away from the utter respect I have for him), sharing all kinds of crap on Facebook, being active on Whatsapp groups, making drinking plans with friends on the fly, avoiding family on festivals, taking solo vacations with my dog, eating pizza for breakfast, breakfast for dinner, spontaneous shopping (like at least Rs. 5,000 worth) and not having a panic attack later, basically crossing off everything I think 20 somethings should be doing. I even drank alcohol on a Tuesday and felt only a little guilty about it.

Sometimes I panic that I’m not doing everything my counterparts are doing. I’m not getting married or in a long term relationship (or any relationship for that matter) and I don’t intend to procreate. And most of all, I panic because I don’t feel like I need to do these things. I’m fast reaching the “shelf” so to speak and will be of unmarriageable age in four months (according to society at least). I also have seen friends who yearn for that special someone or who succumb to societal/parental pressure to get married or who use the phrase “my ovaries are exploding” at the sight of a cute baby/toddler. I am doing neither. I seem to be the happiest when I’m single; I love my unpredictable life with a whole world of opportunity, independence to be able to pick and choose what I want! I get into fights on Facebook because I fully support having rows on planes that are child free! Mostly though, on a daily basis, I love coming home to an empty house, playing music and dancing around. I want to travel for work and not have to think about anyone else (apart from my dog) and be able to say yes to all opportunities knocking on my door.

Let’s face it; I have about another 10-15 years of this kind of freedom, with no dependencies or obligations. I say 10-15 years because I’m pretty sure at 45, I’d like to have a steady job, a nice apartment, a dog and my mum living with me (mostly to dog sit while I work). But I think I would like the predictable, steady life.

Is it wrong? Is it okay to be happy and not stressed? Is it okay to be satisfied with life, because I’m finally in the place I’ve always dreamed of? A good career, great people to work with, fantastic bosses, amazing friends (who I love to death), doing decently financially, in a good place with familial relationships, opportunities to travel or not and most of all, a fantabulous, super-duper awesome doggie in my life. Is it wrong to say no, I don’t want this to change? I don’t want to add more variables into this? Maybe now I’m too practical, I’m very well informed of the pros and the cons of being in a relationship, or being a mother. Maybe I will change my mind later, like my mum says, Never Say Never. 

Yes, there are days where I wish I did have someone, but honestly, with full introspection, like 97% of the time, I don’t. Not in the way I’m like thank the universe I don’t have someone, but in the way that it doesn’t even occur to me to want to have that person.

I remember as a child, thinking at 30, I’d have a fabulous life with a career, a husband and 2 children (both girls and I have names ready too, yes, Buffy and Xena). 30 seemed so grown up and “settled” (how much I despise that word). Today, I try to convince my friends kids to refer to me as Romy (none of this aunty business because I jolly well don’t feel like one) and the good children in the building to call me Dolly didi and NOT Dolly aunty. Please no. I am not auntified. An aunty is someone who is put together, who cooks and cleans and runs after her kids, who balances relationships at home and at work, who irons clothes that she wears… I am that someone who wakes up and decides what to wear after my shower, who buys underwear because I have run out of them as I haven’t done laundry in the longest time, who laughs out loud and curses, who is not the least “put together”. I am someone who still fangirls and squeals and doesn’t know how to handle idiots. I’m that girl who still has MILES to go before she sleeps (the lists and lists in the numerous buckets!). Not that I don’t love sleep. I can sleep 16 hours of the day.

Am I ready to turn 30? With all the connotations to it? And don’t say stuff like age is just a number, or it only has what you apply to it or whatever. Yeah, if you live a hippy lifestyle in the forests, the deer and the trees don’t care if you’re 30 or 300. I live in society as an active and functioning member, and I will be judged. People will question and ponder and discuss my life and decisions at the water cooler at work or over tea and samosas with their neighbours/relatives. Because that’s what people do. They will wonder what is wrong with me as I’m 30 and not married. They will wonder why I’m so happy when obviously things are tragically not working out for me. They will give me advice to freeze my eggs in case I want children later in life. They will then whisper that I want children so badly, but because I have no husband, I consider my dog (oh the scandal) as my child. They will whisper of the many affairs I will allegedly have. They will say that the only reason I’m doing well is because I have no husband or children. They will call me a ball busting bitch and say it’s because I don’t have a man in my life to teach me my place. They will say no man wants me because I’m such a ball busting bitch. They will feel sorry for my mother and grandmother because I’m so obviously dashing their hopes and dreams for me (let us all forget that all a parent wants is for their child to be happy and healthy at the end of the day).

They will feel envious when I call my boss from the Andamans and tell him I’m not coming in today. They will feel envious when I leave early to go see a play with my boss (not realising that they can also). They will feel envious when I go out drinking with my friends and have no one to answer to. They will feel envious when I book my trip to see the Northern Lights in Iceland while they save to pay for their children’s school. They will feel envious when I post pictures of my dog and me on the beach with not a care in the world. They will be envious when I get a promotion. They will be envious when I post photos of me at my best friend’s wedding, being truly happy for them.

They will be so busy looking at my life, not knowing that they have a kick ass life themselves, only that it’s different from mine. They will not understand that I am missing out on the joy of watching a human being learn and grow, of always having a partner to go for a movie with, of never being alone, of having someone in your corner all the time, of having someone to blame (for not paying the electricity bill or to say they are sick so I need a day off), of having someone take care of you when you need it. I am missing out. On these and a whole lot more.

The only difference between me and them is that I’m okay with it. I’m okay with missing out, because I choose to look at what I have and go with that instead. That I am making my own decisions (that I jolly well may regret later or change my mind on entirely and laugh and laugh at this blog post) but I will be content in the fact that these are currently MY decisions.

At the end of it, do I feel ready for 30? Do I feel ready to face society’s expectations of a 30 year old Tambram Indian girl? Do I feel ready to either live up to their expectations or not and be okay with it either way? I don’t know.

Right now though, I’m focused on the next thing on my bucket list of things to do in my twenties – visiting my friend in a foreign country.

You know when...

This is not particularly creative, but definitely relatable. This is a list of "You know when..." that I've said and that my friends have said. These are all unfortunately real life situations.

1) You know when you're stuck writing a technical document, want to do something different, so you glance up to see if your boss is at her seat. Then in her absence, you pull up your blog post and start writing and shriek when you hear your boss laughing at you from behind because she's reading it over your shoulder? Yeah. So much for being stealthy!

2) You know when someone says the name of your crush at work and you get whiplash from looking up too fast? Yeah, way to be obvious!

3) You know when you're so sleep deprived that you put Odomos on your toothbrush instead of toothpaste? Well, your teeth never got bitten by mosquitoes!

4) You know when your dog tries to wake you up and you try to play dead, and then she steps on a particularly sensitive area and you're all "I'M AWAKE!!" Really. Never woken up faster!

5) You know when you forget that your global CEO is in town for a visit and then wear shiny rhinestone jeans on a Friday and then try not to laugh at the horrified look that the Client Relations Manager is giving you as you bump into them on the stairs? Well, at least the CEO said "Nice jeans!"

6) You know when you're half blind and you shriek at the sight of an auntie's child because you've mistaken it for a dog and you're petrified of them? Yes, your mum's never been prouder of you!

7) You know when you read an email at work asking for your help, but you cannot for the life of you understand the English, but the person who sent it is senior and you can't say anything? Gives a new meaning to winging it.

8) You know when you're in your 20s and the ridiculously good looking Chief Marketing Officer is in town and you're in the lift with him and all you can do is grin like an idiot? I'm sure he thought you were indeed an idiot. Congratulations.

9) You know when you've had a really hard day and you need a hard drink and whip out a Pepsi? You da man!

10) You know when you put your foot in your mouth when a colleague trying to make conversation with you says "Babies are just like dogs" and you say "Don't insult dogs!" and realise 3 seconds later that she has a baby and was trying to be friendly? Yes, you'll are definitely besties now!

11) You know when you have the 4th most read blog in the company with more than 10,000 blogs and are super excited about it until people start considering you as a Knowledge Management expert and come to you with questions? Hello Google!

12) You know when you sit in on a call with international partakers and desperately try to understand their accents and fail miserably? "Can you please send me an email regarding this?"

13) You know when you're stalking someone online and accidentally like their picture? Yeah you totally knew them in 2007!

14) You know when you're so bored in a meeting and so close to falling asleep that you have to use a Vicks Inhaler to jolt you awake and you inhale a little too hard? Oh yeah, these numbers on the quarterly report totally has me in tears.

15) You know when your child can't say "tuh" and says "fuh" instead and then on the road says loudly "dum*uck" for dump truck? No, we do not run that kind of household.

Earworms

Have you ever had an earworm and then have the theme of that song follow you through the day? Making sure that it never ever went out of your head, no matter how many times you listened to Poker Face or to Hallelujah or even to Bye Bye Bye. It was annoying. Over the weekend, I woke up to the very annoying Rude Boy by Rihanna ringing in my head.

Come here rude boy, boy
Can you get it up
Come here rude boy, boy
Is you big enough

Well. This first stanza just totally started my day. I made a quick dash to the grocery store that morning, humming this and then being disgusted with myself, to buy some eggs. I had never bought eggs in that grocery store before so I had no idea where they were kept. When I couldn't find them, I asked the person running the grocery store and he took me down an aisle and bent down. I followed his body movement subconsciously to see where the eggs were. BIG MISTAKE. I was treated to the glorious view of his oversized behind and butt-crack - plumber style. Is you big enough? Yeah. Too big. Un-freaking-avoidably so. Why me? Why that day? Whyyyyyy with that hideous song playing in my head?

I wa-wa-want
What you wa-wa-want
Give it to me baby
Like boom boom boom

I went for a walk in the night with my awesome twosome and they are quite vary if strangers and dogs while on walks. By vary,  I of course mean they bark, growl, lunge and generally threaten to attack. Now, there is also a person in my building with a rather large dog. We've had run-ins before and I always talk to them to calm down, to not bark when they see this very large dog, but I'm obviously interrupted by the two terrors who always, always decide that they can take the giant in a fight. I swear sometimes I wonder if they are David and see this giant as their Goliath!

Don't they understand that if this dog chooses to attack we'd all be goner?  I'm so glad that this dog doesn't wa-wa-want what these guys wa-wa-want!

Now another thing - I hate cricket and especially loathe it when india wins because firecrackers. Boom boom boom. I personally have no fondness for the noise and dislike it more when I need to calm a dog that is petrified and another that is ready to go to war! I truly wish they would bam firecrackers along with everything else that the government sees as unfit for Indians?

All I can say is that the next time I wake up with this song stuck in my head, I'm rolling over, going back to sleep and waking up the next day!

Feeling whole again

It took a while. It took a long while to come to terms with this overwhelming loss that I felt when Gypsy passed on. It was like I lost my sense of self, my will to move on, my ability to love like that ever again. I didn't know who I was, or how to define myself. It was the small things like not having to be at home at 4pm or having to wake up in the morning at 5am. It was the ability to be spontaneous, to travel, to stay out late or stay over at a friend's place, to call people home, to not buy eggs. It was these small things that made me feel that loss again and again, never letting go, as I smiled and agreed to watch a 10pm show, as I made impromptu plans to go to Goa, as I looked at the time (8am) on my phone and went back to sleep again.

Whenever I was asked to introduce myself, it took a couple of seconds to regroup, because Gypsy's mum was no longer the answer. I was a 'fun, spontaneous girl with no responsibilities'. Never in my life have I hated that word more.

Gypsy

It took a while to begin to embrace this new person I had become, the one that had the time and space to fall in love with people, celebrate and get her heart broken, the one that loved last minute plans, or canceling on them only because they require pants. I embraced it, because I finally realised that there is no "moving on" from unconditional love, there is no "moving on" from yourself.
I was happy. I had figured out how to define myself, I had figured out that I would always be Gypsy's mum and that I would always, always choose an animal over a human. In a nano-second.
I pet every dog I ever could, I made friends with the bristly, thug outside my office and called him Pinknose and I invited myself over to my best friend's house because she had dogs. It felt okay. I started to feel like I had all this love and I genuinely didn't know what to do with it. Where did it come from? What do I do with it?
I began experiencing the "ovary explosion" every time I saw a dog. It was a weird cramp that squeezed with an aching tightness no painkiller could relieve. My friends described feeling the same thing, except for them, it was babies. I still feel quite the nothing for the tiny humans.
My first visit to Second Chance - Cupa was an emotional one. Here were all these dogs, with so much love to give and in need of some love themselves. I felt a myriad of emotions I didn't expect. I felt happy because here was my version of heaven, I felt so helplessly angry because I cannot imagine the type of soulless evil that existed, I wanted to cry because I couldn't take them all and keep them happy and safe, I felt unadulterated joy when they came up to me, hope shining in their eyes, tail wagging and trusting me even though the world had really done them wrong.
It was in that minute, looking into Kushboo's big brown eyes as she sat next to me, allowing me to pet her, I promised myself that if I ever got the opportunity to be a doggie's human again, it would be one of these dogs.

Kushboo

I visited the shelter once a month, and more if I could. Each visit a little more emotional than the last, as I got to know the residents. I remember sitting with Scottie, a gorgeous terrier trying to picture him in my house. I remember thinking about watching movies in bed with Murphy and how he would look on my purple bedspread with his russet brown colour. I googled great danes and my heart sky-rocketed when I found out that they made great apartment dogs provided they were walked rather decently. I looked at Ross eagerly, wondering if he and I would get along. Each visit drew me closer to the idea of me and a lil four legged angel, on my purple sheets, watching Rizzoli and Isles.

Murphy

I started talking to my mum about it, because there was no way I could keep a dog and balance a 15 hour work-day alone. I started telling her stories of the doggies I had met, I showed her pictures, reminisced about Gypsy, shared stories about other dogs I knew and slowly started chipping away at the giant wall. It was a 'long-con'. Completely pre-meditated and quite successful. She finally cracked saying maybe sometime next year (this was in 2015). It was happening. I knew that our birthdays were the clincher. I decided that the final step in *nudging* her in the right direction was to take her to the shelter.
My mum is a tough woman. Her life, her career, her personality have all made her so. Her biggest weakness, like mine, are soulful brown eyes that belong to furry four-legged creatures that say "love me". We went to the shelter on March 4th, 2016. One day after my 29th birthday. My mum met 'Betty' and 'Bhushan' and fell in love. It was instantaneous. I was shocked, thinking I'd have to bring her a couple more times, tell her more stories and then I'd have it in the bag. But with Bhushan jumping into her arms when Xena barked, she was a goner.

Bhushan

We met and spoke to Sanjana Maddappa, an animal welfare worker with CUPA, who very patiently told us about each dog while Ross, who is her little tail, added some facts that she may have missed. We were sold and we came home to plan. Lists were drawn up and a lot of shopping was done, a list of questions were made, anticipation, excitement, nervousness all kept our bellies full and our minds working. They were going to come home on March 10th, which was the following Friday.
On March 9th, Sanjana called me with news that left me speechless. Bhushan had passed away in the night. One day before going to his forever home. It was unfair and awful and hopeless. I didn't know him that well, but my eyes were glassy that cab ride home and it wasn't the glare of the sun. He was a fighter.
I called my mum and then I called Anoopa Anand (because Sanjana was not in town at that time). My mother was unsure. This had really thrown her for a loop and she didn't know what to do anymore. We were first time adopters and this had really shaken us. While my mum thought long and hard, I was even more determined to bring 'Betty' home. 'Betty' was going to be called DeeDee and she went perfectly with my purple sheets. We wanted two dogs though because they would be alone for 4-5 hours a day. They also had to be apartment sized dogs.
Anoopa then told me about 'Amrita', who is Bhushan's biological sister. She was a shy, quiet, timid little girl who often got overlooked because she never came out to socialise. We were living testament to that because we didn't know her until Anoopa told us about her. We went to the shelter on Saturday the 11th, choosing to re-group on Friday. I crossed all my fingers and all my toes, wondering what my mother would say. We had come to an agreement that we would go through with the adoption ONLY if we both wanted it a hundred percent, because otherwise, it would never have worked out. It wouldn't have been fair to the dogs, to my mum and to me.
Meeting 'Amrita' was a blessing. She was shy, quiet, the polar opposite of DeeDee. She huddled in a corner and welcomed us in her meek way, with her tail wagging. I don't think Satan would have had a chance when it came to falling in love with her and her big needy eyes. Anoopa told us a little about her, her history and personality, talked to us a about taking them and how they would react. The two got along, which was a very good thing. We pulled out our list of questions and she answered all of them in as much detail as we needed. She was patient, kind and caring, even though the shelter was facing a new crisis with a box of 6 or 7 fifteen day old puppies.
We had our decision, and we had our kids. We went home and got the house ready. Training pads, water and food bowls, toys, leashes, collars and halters.
This morning arrived at 4:30am for me. Early would be an understatement. I was beyond excited and felt like a kid on Christmas and birthdays combined. We had decided to call 'Amrita' Dolly. We finally made it to the shelter at 12:30 and it was overrun with people and volunteers. We waited patiently, secretly enjoying the time to bond with our little girls.
I filled out the adoption papers, we put the leashes on and bid adieu to the Shelter after taking pictures and making promises to visit. I was scared of what could happen in the car ride back home, if they would be okay, if they would like me, if I could be who they needed. It felt like a huge daunting step that I was taking, but I was ready. More than ready!
We came home and mum and I thought they would both find a corner and curl up. We were sure that it would be stressful and they wouldn't eat or anything. Boy, were we mistaken. It was like they came alive!
DeeDee hadn't changed, she went around exploring every nook and cranny of the house, found her ball and played till we dropped dead, exhausted. She also christened our house with pee thrice. Even though she went out twice on the same day :/
Dolly on the other hand did a 180. She blossomed, running though the house like a mad woman, so excited to see what was going on, what were these strange things and barking and growling at the birds outside. She made her voice heard when a dog in the apartment complex spoke, she wagged her tail each time I looked at her and waited patiently while I took a shower. She found her spots quickly and alternated from napping to begging for treats and attention. She also was a rockstar, choosing to pee outside and not once inside!

DeeDee

Dolly

As I get ready for bed, I thank the universe for making this happen. I am so grateful to my mum, to who she is (crazy dog lover), to CUPA for existing and doing the amazing work that they do, to Osha (the shelter manager), Sanjana and Anoopa who played very important roles in making this happen. I wouldn't be writing this with a full, happy heart if it weren't for them.
Most of all, I am grateful to Gypsy for opening my soul to this unbelievable bond between human and dog, and to DeeDee and Dolly who have so graciously and eagerly allowed us into their lives and letting us love them and loving us in return.

For adoptions: cupaadoptionsblr@gmail.com
Visit CUPA Second Chance Shelter near Silk Board