All That Is Kay

Who is Kay, you may ask? Well, Kay is me.

When I was little, I couldn’t pronounce my full name (which for privacy reasons, will stay a secret.. but I can tell you this, it DID contain the syllable ”kay”).. Try as they might, my mom and dad could never teach me to pronounce it correctly. It stuck and right up until now, when I finally graduated high school, I’m known to all as ”Kay.”

Well, first things first, I am a muslim, gujarati girl; growing up in a house with two boys. No, I am NOT trying to imitate the blogging style of of diaryofagujigirl. I am merely blogging annonymously about my life. I’m fairly average when it comes to how I look. Sure, I’ve had plenty of guys hit on me in the past. That doesn’t necessarily mean that I’m hot. It could mean that my charming, dynamic personality caused an attraction to me. At least I like to think so. I sure hope that it’s not because guys would hit on anything that manufactures oestrogen. They couldn’t be that stupid now, could they? I mean certain animals have been known to produce oestrogen when on heat..

I grew up in a small town called Mizonto (well, it wasn’t really called that, That’s just the pseudonym I’ve given to it). Small town meant that everyone knew everyone. It was like gowing up with a whole big extended family, although, unlike real famalies, many were out to get you.. Waiting for you to flop up so that they could have something to talk about at their next gathering. Well, the devil in me gave them that… alot, but not in the way you think. Thing is, I was always obsessed with some crazy trend or another. A few years ago I bought a whole lot of different coloured buttons and glued them onto every item of mine. I’m talking about buttons on my shoes, buttons on my shirts, buttons on my furniture, buttos on my school stationery, I wore jewellery made solely out of buttons ( which I made by myself), and even once glued buttons to my hair using washable glue- which I admit, wasn’t such a great idea, considering how they had to be chopped off…turns out the glue was not so washable after all!

My point is that when I’m obsessed with something, it sometimes reaches such proportions that the whole town would be talking about it. But it’s lucky for me that the gossipmongers were too busy talking about what crazy antic I’m currently up to, to actually bother digging in my life for dirt. Because if they did, they would find it. And it wasn’t pretty.

My current dilemma that I’m having trouble navigating is the question of what I want to do with the rest of my life. Now that I’m FINALLY done with school, it should be pretty easy figuring out what I want to do for the rest of my life, right? Wrong! There are so many different fields that one could go into. And for a person like me, with many interests (art, language, science, and technology to name a few) the decision just becomes a helleuva lot more complicated. Do I sacrifice my scientific curiousity and study architecture? Do I study Language and give up the dream of creating a new form of contemporary art someday? Do I Study IT and forget about ever making a new scientific discovery that could change the way mankind thinks?

Yeah, I know, I know, big dreams for a small town girl, but haven’t you heard? Thesedays, it’s all about dreaming big, or going home. And the pressure put on a single child fresh out of high school, to immediately choose a career path is INSANE! I mean, seriously people, I just wrote the most stressful exam of my life, the last thing I want to think about is what I am going to be studying next year. So please stop asking me. Because I didn’t apply to any tertiary institution. Why, you may ask? Because I have decided to take a gap year.

A year to think about and fully explore my options and personality. That will help me decide what is exactly right for me, right?

Well, apparently not. Apparently, if you’ve finished school and decide to ”stay at home” (such a horrid term, people make it sound like prison, they sometimes say in in such a condescending manner that you feel like wiping that smug smile off their face with a well aimed punch) then it means you’re ready to get married.

And then you start receiving weird phonecalls…