Contrasting emotions and varied thoughts make August a month of paradox. This month, each year, I’m involuntarily reminded of the vicious cycle of life. It’s my birthday month! Yipeeee! Yes, it is a BIG DEAL for this Leo woman. In fact, for a Zodiac lioness, anyone’s birthday is a big deal. “How are we celebrating?” is my constant question for the birthday babies. My inquisitive grin seldom receives an excited welcome. Mostly,  It’s the uninviting ‘Must we discuss this?’ stare. But when it comes to family and dearest friends; I refuse to budge. Unabashedly standing firm awaiting a plan — no matter how frivolous or elaborate it may be. It could be anything — from quiet movie time to their favourite coffee; a spa treat to a full-blown party; as long as we have ticked the celebration box (Cadbury’s celebration box doesn’t count!) ; my leo-ness can take a backseat. I remember being named ‘The Shepherd’ for ushering people into doing things they won’t willingly at first. I prefer a more sophisticated title : ‘The celebrator’. It’s a simple theory — life is precious, life is short; make memories even if they are store bought! Don’t get me wrong! I’m all for the ‘little joys of life’ and ‘happiness doesn’t cost a thing’; however, these uplifters should be applied to everyday life. Not valid as a rain check on special occasions! You see, I rather do something strikingly different to the 364 days. Beat the usual, unfold the bucket list! After all, birth is a beautiful phenomenon and must be honoured each year. (This belief has strengthened after I experienced it myself recently! A laborious rip-roaring task, not short of a miracle!) In fact, you don’t even have to dwell that far; for these days just being alive & healthy demands proper acknowledgement! Ahem…beyond replying to birthday messages on social media that is! Apparently, I have inherited this bubbly birthday outlook from my big man. We would casually discuss a party possibility for friends the evening before and return from school to witness full-fledged decorations! I’m talking the whole works - DJ console, dance floor that lit up and fast food counters attended by servers in uniform. We’d be gobsmacked at the OTT arrangements but he just wouldn’t have it any other way! “No round tables Papa?” I’d tease him. “Nah! Saving those for your wedding!” , he’d laugh in his distinctive style. (Well, I’m glad he got it out of his system then, as he never made it to my wedding.) So yeah, somewhere along those growing up years, I must have ingrained his zest for life and the ostentatious rejoicing style! So far, in the name of celebration, I’ve covered the adventurous - skydiving, deep sea diving, quad biking, plane flying, zipping; the scenic - from quick breathtaking getaways to luxurious vacations, the painful yet rewarding - ginormous tattoo that took over 6 hours to complete, the fun - themed birthday parties (funky hats/crazy hair/bling/bright colours- you name it!) I even hired a popular event management company for my 25th birthday — a pool party with a cool Hollywood theme — complete with a funky UV tunnel that kept the guests entertained, especially when hammered! I remember smirking halfway through the evening as I gazed at the clear skies: “Papa, this would have been totally up your alley!” As much as I enjoy the flavour of my own parties; I must admit that I absolutely love being a gracious host too. Umm typical centre of attention, you say? Always! I have no qualms in acknowledging that J’adore limelight! Well, that explains my career choice as an emcee/Master of ceremonies! :) The association of birthday with travel began when I was in university and chose Switzerland for my 21st. I was studying in Oxford, England then. Just like any other obedient Indian girl would; I got my parent’s approval before setting off. A quick call back home — half-baked story for daddy, full version for mummy (she always kept our secrets!) — and I was on my way. I told daddy dear that I was to travel with a few friends. Ahem, it was ‘a’ friend. And he was only accompanying me till Zurich where his family was holidaying. I made a spontaneous decision to tag along, took a train to Zurich; only to know that it was hosting the annual ‘naked’ street parade that day. We got swarmed in a storm of painted, feathered, almost nude bodies all around. My eyes popped out! Too much to take for my Indian-ness! What would daddy say to THIS? I felt naughty just witnessing this dramatic version of a naked conglomeration — complete with music, pomp and show. My friend bid farewell and amidst all that nudity, I bared the solo traveller within. Instinctively, finding a decent accommodation was first on my list. Turns out, thanks to the street parade, there was NONE available. Ah! A traveller must have a Plan B: Train to Lucerne, not too far from Zurich. Wow! Not booking in advance was such a scenic mistake! Calm waters all around; the Swiss feel was awesome! My fluorescent pink Sony camera was loving it! “This place is brilliant! Happy Birthday to meeee!” I screamed as I pivoted in excitement. I entered an ice-cream parlour to get myself a treat. Where is my wallet? My heart skipped a beat. The swivel! It must have fallen out of my then-in-vogue cargo pants! I ran back to the same spot as fast as my nervous feet would allow. Seriously? I survived the crowd but not an excited turn! In a turn of events, my student card was lying on the road — abandoned. Nothing else was in sight. It was clear — my wallet with my cards and money was taken! Happy Birthday to me. Sigh! I called the friend again, borrowed some Swiss Francs off his father (enough to add some sightseeing; I wasn’t going to let a pickpocket, or rather a ‘pickwallet', get the better of me!) As I paddled along the mystical Lake Lucerne, I wondered why things take a particular course. Would I have lost my wallet if I were still in England? As I soaked in the paradise view, I smiled and thanked the universe for having bailed me out.Years later, I went back to Zurich. This time as a travel host for a show called ‘This is Switzerland’. As Swiss tourism was directly involved, I explored Zurich with experienced eyes- Geneva and St. Moritz were added to the list. From visiting posh watch designers to reputed chocolate makers, capturing the Alps to tasting local produce; assembling a personalised Swiss Army knife to making cheese from scratch (just for the record- it’s hard work in extremely stinky surroundings, but fun nonetheless!) — it was the most memorable Swiss trip…that too for free! Beautifully compensated for the wallet lost years ago! Say Cheese! (wink wink) I would never forget August 2004. I had just returned from England to join the family business and evidently became my father’s new found pride and joy! No, it wasn’t like the old Bollywood films where, with a flick of a hand, the loaded businessman  rotates a grand leather chair whilst uttering the infamous dialogue: “Yeh Kursi aaj se Tumhari hai!” (This chair now belongs to you.) Instead, it was a surprise get together at work on my birthday. Papa wasn’t keeping well so I didn’t expect him to be out of the house, leave alone have him as the secret party organiser. He was diagnosed with renal failure, so his swollen feet couldn’t take him far. You can imagine the ‘water retention’ in my welled up eyes when I saw him present at work! He had asked me that morning to wear a saree. I smiled and obliged in true Leo style : a mustard yellow & black striped Satya Paul number fresh off the ramp — fashionably belted at the waistline with pallu wrapped around the neck like a summer scarf (my signature style) — matching heels, the characteristic bindi and a permed mane. The tigress was ready to roar!  Later that night, I went out with a few friends and one of them, freshly turned eighteen, never made it home. Moments ago we were rejoicing together, moments after my world crumbled as I lost a young friend to a gruesome bike accident. I became a victim of self-blame, believing it was all my fault for having invited him. The stomach-churning thoughts wouldn’t let me sleep or eat and I didn’t leave my room for days. That’s when my wise man walked in to have a chat I’d never forget. He explained how I was just a Zariya or a ‘medium’ for something that was pre-destined. We spoke about the concept of death and how one could and should come to terms with it. He called it ‘The art of letting go’ - Grief, anger, denial & acceptance being the mandatory stages. I felt better and joined the family for dinner that night. Four days later, unexpectedly, that man of great wisdom passed away. It was as if our soulful chat was to prep me up for his inevitable departure. Customary last rites were performed and his ashes were carried just the way he’d prefer his long journeys — in his favourite car, listening to old Kishore Kumar songs. I grew up instantly and tried to step into his shoes to the best of my ability. 14 years have gone by…clearly, life goes on.  I swapped the shoes for stilettos and became a full fledged glam anchor. No regrets. No blame game. I let go. Now I’m sat in Zurich again, having breakfast and reminiscing. A colleague joins me and we start to chat about life in general. Coincidentally, he lost his father too. What he says next is extremely beautiful and truly speaks to me: “If we believe that people go to heaven after they die; then why do we cry?” I smile knowing this isn’t coincidental. These soothing words were plugged in to make me feel better. Yet again, I look up and thank the universe for this much needed encounter. He is right. Courage to bear loss lies in how we culminate the thought: “Oh my father left us!” (our selfish need) Or “Oh my father left for heavenly abode”.(his spiritual progress) My request to all out there who have ever encountered grief in anyway (we all have our fair share!) — Refrain from wasting life’s precious moments moping around, instead talk it out. Be it a professional counsellor or an easily accessible friend—all you need is a listener. Sometimes someone says things that resonate. Sometimes hearing your own thoughts aloud is magically therapeutic. In the words of Shrek “Better out than in!” So don’t be afraid of the heart pour. On the return flight to London, the captain made an interesting announcement “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking from the flight deck. I have just been informed …(long pause while everyone waits anxiously)…that I’ve become a father!” A thunderous in-sync applause filled the moment. There you go, as I’m missing a life sat on the plane, another is born. The cycle continues. C’est La Vie! No matter what life throws at you (or takes away), be a soldier & battle it out! Let’s celebrate life this side and beyond— After all, it’s Supa! Sharing can begin right here if you feel it’s appropriate. The comment section awaits your thoughts—from stories of celebration to letting go— I’m listening. :)