Still alive..

It’s that time of the year again.. Yeah, that. Year end, stock taking, scoring over/ under last year. Let’s say if 2013 has taught me one thing, it’s been that forget about it, it doesn’t matter. Whatever you count, it’s not going to be enough. It may a bit of an irony that what brough this on was counting the number of cities that I have been to, and the number of out of town trips. It’s truly been a mindblowing year. You know.. The kind where there is this stillness and yet, one hell of action. Personally, professionally, it’s been an ironic year. In a good way. That’s all I am saying.

Coming back to the number of journeys.. 5 countries, 11 cities, two more to go. Work and fun. Yes, it HAS been one hell of a year. I have realized in the last year that in this household, travel tops the list of two things that really matter. Travel and Apple. There are these random evenings when R and I pick a city somewhere and wonder what it would be like to stay there. There is a 5 minute long frantic web browsing. He looks up how much Apple stuff costs there and how easily it is available. I look up weekend getaways and low cost airline connectivity. We talk about, go make some dinner, talk some more, and call it a day. Ready to grow up? Who knows? Perhaps we are fully grown adults with misplaced priorities. Who’s to say which, if any, priority is misplaced. This one, or the one that is about growing up in a way that’s the most acceptable? Making a choice? Hell, yeah.

That reminds me. That choice at the fag end of the year.. Choosing ghar ka khana. Going beyond survival food. And scoring. Much as I wanted to be perceived as anti-aunty, I guess I crossed the threshold of aunty-dom by leaps and bounds the day I made karela bhujiya at home. Or baingan in rich peanut gravy. Or anda biryani. Or apple crumble. Or sindhi kadhi. Or used coconut milk in a one pot meal. That day or the one when I replied to an email/Lync message with the kind of diplomacy that I didn’t know I was capable of. Or the day I didn’t care about odds being stacked against me, or about those silly instigators. Or the day I knew I was done being diplomatic and that no matter how much diplomacy I am suddenly capable of, there are days (many days) when I call a spade a spade or go die. Or that day when I realized I wasn’t about to give up the Friday nights at home for anything else in the world. Or that day when being a wife was all about being a team. Or the one when I realized feminism can be a loose term and perhaps I am what they call a feminist. Or the day I realized that this isn’t a houshold of “city dwellers”. Or the one when I read Rudyard Kipling’s If.. And realized I am almost there. Almost a “woman”.

2013. The growing up story continues. This is the year that I am going to remember for a very long time. Just like every other year. My life? In its sheer ordinariness, it’s the stuff that legends are made of.

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