happy birthday

months before my birthday my excitement level would start soring. i think it was the same with every child my age around me. my sisters birthday is a couple of weeks before me so she too would join me in the teeth clenching palm rubbing anticipation of what were the most special days of our lives respectively. after school while eating lunch we would talk endlessly about the preparations and the gifts which would be given to us and the return gifts we would be giving and what dress we will be wearing and what toffees we would be distributing at school and how we would be so tired after the late night celebrations that we wouldnt go to school the next day. a few days before the lovely most special day we would repeat all the qbove conversation like a broken record.

i had a thing that i would do at my birthday. wear everything new. the shirt-pants, shoe-socks and underwears. everything had to be new.brand new. else i would quite simply throw a fit and my parents forbidden by my nana to raise a hand on me had to oblige. i was quite a brat in some ways i reckon.

on a particular birthday, perhaps i was turning 8 or 9, i am unable to recall the number, it happened to be either a sunday or a holiday of school. so that meant 2 set of new clothes. brand new. one for the day and the other for the party at night. on that day my parents for the oddest of reason went on a charity bid and decided to sent me to a nearby orphanage to feed the children there, so i with a couple of servants with the whole meal for lunch went there. i vividly remember wearing checked a white shirt with some brown design on it and a crisp dark brown shorts and white cotton socks with two dark brown lines on the top and the dark brown leather shoe, which inspite of much persuassion by my parents of not being of real laether or durable i had gotten due to my world famous tantrums.

i entered the orphanage with the servants and the person incharge asked all the boys there, of all ages to atand up and greet me. and then they sang me the birthday song in hindi. now i cannot say but something happened. i started trembling. i was looking at my shoe. and i was looking at the children. their clothes. they appeared clean allright. definetely not new. far from it as the holes and the patches on them indicated. and they were singing for me. only because i was feeding them today. rightly put... my parents were. i had never been so embarrassed of my clothes before. and the ones that were worn for the first time and were smelling nice and looking nice. but i was embarrassed. i was embarrassed to be me that day. as i looked at the faces of the children as they sang it was very clear that they were singing because they had been asked to do so and infact it was a regular feature for them whenever the parents of some spoilt child would feel the need to do some charity on a non schooling day.

they sat in two lines as my servants and i served them the food. i recall my shame making my eyes moist and unable to meet any of them. i saw them finishing the food and then cleaning the plates themselves. they again lined to thank me for the feast and again wished me happinesss on my birthday.

never again i have rolled on the road on my mothers refusal to buy me another toy gun. never again have i asked for anything which i particularily didnt need. never again i have felt proud on wearing new clothes. the rule of everything new on the birthday hasnt been strictly adhered to since then. any of those could be and i could be any of them. that was the thought i had leaving that place. a tremendous sense of gratitude and respect had gripped me. a new chapter of kindness and apathy was found in me somewhere.

not that my parents intended but i was humbled. i didnt realise it with such clarity then but now i think it was one of the most important lessons i learnt that day. i had gotten a gift then.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY...