Turning Thirty!

So apparently turning 30 somehow mandates you to turn temporarily crazy. As you reach this milestone it is just expected that you go nuts and do something that you will soon regret. Ever since we reach maturity, say at around 18 years of age – we start to formulate a list of accomplishments that we would want to achieve by the time we reach a scary age. This scary age is somewhere far in future and for most of the young adults, more often than not it is 30. So when you actually reach this scary age, apart from the realization that you are now errr old, the fact that many of the accomplishment remain unfulfilled triggers off a series of unpleasant actions.

2019 was the year I kicked the bucket of the so called dirty 30s. Thankfully the realization of being 30 was a smooth one (Well, I did get bangs but I am just going to pretend that it doesn’t count). Good company, good food and drinks, lots of dancing and way too much cake. I think the need to not to anything overtly crazy must have sprung from the fact that I am already a wee bit crazy to begin with. Icing on the cake is the fact that I somehow manage to find just the right kind of crazy people in my tribe. And my desperate need to be the coolest aunt to my little nieces and nephews mandates that I spend a lot of time with young guns which gets me to speed on whatever the kids are indulging in nowadays. So in short I did not feel even a slight bit older. It was just another year of “Hey, Happy Birthday To You’s”.

It’s not like I did not have a list-of-things-to-before-I-turn-30, some were accomplished, others were swiftly move to the other two lists – Things-to-do-before-i-turn-40 and the other very convenient things-to-do-before-I-die! Like they say age is just a state of mind. That’s what I thought on my birthday, because nothing seemed much different from when I was well, 29. Of course I feel older, more responsible but I want to keep my carefree side as-is. I can see crow’s feet near my eyes but that just means I have laughed a lot. My metabolism has most definitely slowed down over the years, but then how else was I going to invest in athleisure wear for the gym. I refuse to behave a certain way just because I have hit that benchmark. Nopes. Not gonna happen. I still want to make boomerangs when I am 60 (If I make it that far). I aspire to be the granny who wears the brightest shade of red with a nice string of pearls.

But when you do hit 30s, it is a good idea to sit down with your 29 years of wisdom and do a little introspection. How to you want to grow as a person, in your career, what’s happening with terms to the family. I did this heart to heart couple of weeks into my turning 30 when one of friend pointed out how the introduction page of my blog needs updating. A little background – I had created the introduction when I was at the ripe old age of 23 – naïve and quite incapable of understanding just how lazy I am. Because I had crazy aspirations back then. Apparently I wanted to be a fashion blogger, like yea that’s ever going to happen. I literally have to bribe my husband with Roganjosh and Spaghetti Aglio Olio for a couple of pictures. And I can feel the heat of deadly stares my friends give me when I utter the words “meri photo lena please”. Plus I hardly have any makeup skills or know any hairstyles. The only beauty experience I have is giving my sister a nice brown-black spot on the nose when I tried cleaning up her blackheads. Moreover I hardly have the enthusiasm or energy for ideas on how to style a crop top in 5 different ways. And while we are on the topic of crop tops, well who are we kidding no filter is gonna hide that cute little tummy tire. So there goes the fashionista career down the drain.

Next in the wish list was writing a book, and I quote directly written by 23 year old me “My things-to-do-in-future list includes writing a book (sometime when I am 30).” Awwwww. So much innocence in one sentence. I may not have known it then but I do now. Writing a book is no mean feat. It takes me almost 15 days at an average to write a blog post. Inception of an idea in my mind, some thoughts to make it grow, then the penning of a paragraph or two, dead-end, the wait, then continue with a fresh mind. It is a lot of hard work. And it is nothing compared to what is involved in book writing. Salman Rushdie had mentioned in this autobiography that he spends the first few hours his day completely dedicated to writing, whatever it maybe, makes sense or not but he writes. I however possess no such discipline. On some mornings I delay to pee so that it doesn’t break my sleep. Plus I still need some experience, travel, meet different people to have the relevant skill needed to indulge in something as big as book writing. I now know I still may not be ready when I am 40 and that’s perfectly okay with me.

So all in all my contemplation was a good one. Nailed down few need-immediate-attention items. Pushed some far away, few far far away, a lot of stuff was taken down (read pink/purple hair). But mostly we are just taking each day as it comes. Being less judgmental. Practicing live and let live. Letting people just be. Less gossip. And absolutely no slandering. Light dinners. Occasion Pizzas. More green tea. A workout here and there. More statement pieces. Less pictures. More experiences. A lot more travel. Lesser nagging. Minimal junk. More fruits. And lots of love.

And on that note, since you have been a patient reader, here are some pictures from the mad mad 30th birthday.

Stay Sexy People!

Love:
Sepo