Salut & Welcome to my much procastinated debut as a blogger! If you’ve landed here then you either are a friend of Supa’s (that’s me!); intrigued to decipher the minute deets of her adventurous life OR it’s the peppy title that got your attention- It’s a Supa Life! - which aims to be ambiguously witty. I’m chuffed to know that my nickname Supa (short for Supreet) made it to the Urban Dictionary with it’s positive ring:  “super, cool, good, unbelievable, amazing, nice, fabulous”  and it’s THIS affirmative outlook that I wish to highlight through this blog. As frustrating as some days may be, our lives are indeed blessed. Let this journal be your weekly reminder to appreciate the little joys of life. As a personality enhancer, I encourage self-belief and as an emcee (Master of ceremoinies) I have to exude immense confidence on stage. However, that’s not how it all started. For my first slice of Supa life, I’ve chosen a moment that is extremely close to my heart- the first day of university. Going to uni can be daunting for many. Afterall, the transition from teens to adulthood doesn’t come easy. I was no different. There I was, freshly 18, standing outside the glass doors of Oxford Brookes University in England…4,200 miles away from my home in West Delhi. The typical family-centric Indian home, where a strict father gave a mandatory verbal list of Do’s and Dont’s, two younger sisters squeezed me tight and shed the ‘miss you already’ tears, and ‘I can handle it all’ mother, armed with all my paperwork, became my chaperon on this new journey. The nine long hours on the flight had me see-sawing between excitement and nervousness; knowing very well that years abroad sans family weren’t going to be a walk in the park. Baby Steps. I walked to the reception with uncontrollable hesitation and enrolled in the morning induction with much difficulty. My first obstacle being the ‘accent’. I just couldn’t fathom the fact that I -  Born to English teaching parents, Head girl of my school in Delhi, an active member of the debate team, top scorer of English exams- had trouble understanding THIS English with it’s varied accents (from North of England & Wales in particular) Add never heard before local slangs and you had me speechless, literally! “How was your fly?” I was asked. Fly? I was certain I heard it wrong.  However, such an inappropriate mention deserved a quick check on the trouser zipper . All intact, thankfully.  “Sorry, could you repeat that”?“Fly! How was your Fly?”  Aaaarghh! There we go again! I have never felt like such a thickhead before. After the highly embarassing third attempt, I figured the awkward conversation was based around my FLIGHT. Why not pronounce the T at the end and make life easier for us eh? NO. Almost every sentence had me confused that day. Not only was I competing against the heavy accents, I had the self-assigned task of attaching T’s to unfinished words to make sense of anything. “Pass me the ‘bo-ull” (bottle), Turn on the ke-ull (kettle)- T’s were escaping me while I ran after my perfect first day. I decided to be less of a talker and more of an observer to grasp my nouveu surrounding. Let’s do lunch mum, that should be a harmless activity. Everyone seemed to be buying these funky looking sandwiches that looked grilled from a distance. A coffee on the side to beat the unbearable cold sounded lush. So, I went and asked for a grilled sandwich. “We don’t grill them here”, declared the lady behind the counter while pointing to a signboard - No hot food is served here. Hunh? An eye for an eye, a point for a point. I gestured to the heap behind her and exclaimed with almost a smug expression ‘There they are! Those ones!”“I don’t know what you are on about but those are just cold cut sandwiches love.” There was no love in her tone. Embarrased at holding up the queue, I got an Egg and Cress Sandwich with a cappucino and walked away super fast. “What’s Cress?” asked mother. “I haven’t a clue!” (Ahem…Don’t forget this was 15 years ago when things like Cress, Kale, Celery and even brown bread weren’t popular back home!)“Ah look! It’s not toasted, it’s just the colour of the bread! And look how thick it is in comparison to our half dying loaf in India!” Not as thick as my brain that day it seems! The lines that made it look ‘grilled’ solely came from the packaging. We didn’t have packaged sandwiches in India then to know any better! I’ll never forget that silly (but tasty) sandwich; which later became my staple. It was time to check out the halls of residence situated on the other side of the university. Cross the road shall we? Beep Beep Beep Beep we turned around in slight panic mode! It sounded like the police came after us! Although nothing around seemed remotely suspicious. Two gentlemen nonchalantly passed us by from the opposite side and we didn’t think much of it until the siren went again! A dismounted cyclist crossed us this time. I suggested we step back to figure out what was happening. To our amazement, the culprit was a BUTTON…that’s right! A small button on the traffic lights post was responsible for all that noise when pressed each time someone wanted to cross the road. A green man icon would appear on the traffic lights signalling that it’s safe to cross. Red man meant stay put. Oh why wouldn’t they put all of this in the induction for overseas students? was my frustrating thought. We had no such wait game back home. Pedestrians impatiently crossed between fast moving vehicles! Very fast and forever furious. The room was unexpectedly massive and well equipped with a basin, a big mirror, wardrobe, shelves, a couple of drawers, a desk, a lamp, a noticeboard and a single bed. Nice! I could live here. Hang on, let’s not forget the basics…where is the washroom?“Down the hall, to the left!” shouted out my neighbour from Hong Kong (who  later became one of my best mates) Ah! that’s another word I learnt on Day 1.  Mate (noun) : friend / companion/ fellow member. Before this my understanding was quite limited. mate (verb) : copulate / breed / make babies - a no no in the Indian dictionary! Haha! It was soon dinner time and mother wisely suggested that I go down ALONE to the dining hall to make new friends. Six looooong benches, lots of buzzing students, an attendant, and a buffet style layout made my nervous sight. I grabbed a plate and went to the dinner lady: “May I have the vegetarian pls?” “There you go!” She handed me a plateful of penne with pink dodgy bits. “Umm is this vegetarian?” I said doubtfully. “Yes of course! It’s prawns.”, she answered delightfully. What! That left me perplexed. Prawns = vegetarian? What am I missing? “Sea food is vegetarian” proclaimed the lady.No it isn’t- screamed the voice in my head. The civilized version made a request instead,“Can I pls just have the chicken pizza?”  “Hey Hey! You have me all puzzled girl, I thought you aren’t a meat eater?” Confusion galore!“Correct! Just that it’s easier to take the chicken off the pizza than rummage through the pasta for prawns.”  I fake smiled.Disheartened, I walked over with my unappetizing tray to the most inviting bench with many new faces & lots of chatter going on.My eyes were wandering all over to soak it all in and my hands were trying to keep up with table etiquette. Next thing I heard were the not-so-golden words that were to haunt me for a long time:  “Whose fu*king Pizza is this?”A drop-dead gorgeous blonde guy was stood tall over the table with a furious look and a flimsy pizza slice in his hand.Pin drop silence. Not really. Chi Chi Chi My cutlery made an annoying screeching sound on the china plate. Everyone looked at me and I quickly looked down to get away from the attention. There was nothing on my plate. Nothing to slice. My knife was working overtime. Someone yelled across the table: “The Indian girl’s Pizza flew!”Everything was blurry thereafter. Must be the water clogging in these sheepish eyes. I wanted to die just then. Oh lord, take me away now! I still haven’t a clue how that happened. I reckon I was so intrigued with what was going on around that I didn’t notice the hard crust scooting off my plate when my determined knife tried to slice it further. “Just use your hand” / “ She must be having it for the first time” / “Poor her” / “Bless her” - whispers aplenty! I understandably lost all appetite and excused myself to go be my mum’s little girl wailing away in her lap.  As I was walking out, Daisy came after me to reassure. “Hey! it happens to the best of us! I have macaroni cheese in my room. We’ll just heat it up and you can have that!” She led the way while introducing me to her life in Hong Kong. “There is a kitchenette straight down the hall. You warm this up and I’ll just get there.” I took the packaged food with me, carefully reading the instructions at the back to avoid any further mess. In the kitchen was an English girl in the tiniest shorts and a bright tank top. She looked at me, glanced at the dish I was holding, pointed to the microwave and stated in slow paced English (almost as If I were deaf) “THIS IS A MICROWAVE. WARM FOOD. OPEN. PUT DISH. CLOSE…” I had to cut her off. “India may be third world but we do have microwaves…and Pizza Hut! And I know how to eat a Pizza!!!” Obviously all my frustration of the day came out at once and I unleashed on the poor girl for fear of judgement. Where is that  comforting lap when you need it? Mumma’s girl running to her just like she did when she first fell in playschool. “You shouldn’t have sent me alone! I was a disaster! I can’t survive this country if I can’t even survive a meal! Take me back to India now!” My mum just smiled, wiped my rolling tears and patted my head. “As big a deal as this seems now…one day, it just wouldn’t matter…I promise!” She reassuringly got my father on the international call. “I want you to stay put and fight it out for just ten days. If you still feel the same way, I shall put you on the first flight out.” Needless to say, that return flight was years after. I stuck it out - through my course, an extended Master’s degree AND a work permit! My pain & limitation then is just a story now. A story that I constantly share to reinstate that confidence isn’t built overnight. We all go through silly incidents that test us but don’t let them daunt you. Fight back. Always remember: You are bigger than the moment. Own it. Here is to the first day of uni! Chin-Chin! Pls do share your first day experiences in the comments section below. I’d love to know that I wasn’t the only crazy soul out there!