The murder of the perfect day

Birthdays are so FAKE. A shortcut to please someone. An excuse to drink till dawn. A competition who can give the most expensive party, the better gift.

Birthdays why are they so fake? Why would I want someone who doesn’t even like me to come and wish me? What is everyone pretend to be so happy about such fake birthdays? Why does anyone have to be embarrassed about not remembering my B’day? I seriously don’t want to remember them myself.

I don’t think there is anything to celebrate my B’ day. The people who care nothing for you, why should they make such a fuss about you B’ days. And yet why do people who mean a lot to you forget your B’ day. Is it something to do with growing up? That simply, for no apparent reason you start forgetting them.

What is it with birthdays that people don’t remember them and yet don’t let you forget them?

This time,
After the disappointment of the past couple of years, I decided to forget my B’ day. And hoped everyone else would too. As always the date was hidden on all the so called social networking sites.

I also planned to switch off my cell for the entire 24 hours of the day. Because I believe phone is the main instrument for mischief. This would serve several purposes-
1) I wouldn’t be disappointed that no one called, as I could easily presume whoever mattered had called
2) I wouldn’t be reminded of my B day again and again, and by extension I wouldn’t feel bad that nothing special happened
3) It would help me treat it like just another day and last
4) It was my vengeance on those who forgot my previous B day.

So, at the stroke of midnight I began my experiment. Some over excited people had msgd before 12. I heartily ignored the sinning souls. The day seemed to start well as my flat mates seemed to have forgotten everything about it.

I went to office and was disgusted when I was given a card by the adm guy. This is how they exploit your B day, by making it official. They actually send a mail to everyone’s official ID to remind them. I still kept graciously mum, however, some of them found out and came to wish me. Some friends continued to chat with me throughout the day completely forgetting the day.

Another one thought, it was ok to ask me if she had missed something. This after she had forgotten it last time also. Well in the evening there was cake cutting. I didn’t know whether I should be flattered, as it was for three people together, whose B days had gone long back.

Well after I came home, I was pretty curious and switched on my cell for a couple of minutes. No one called L and there were just a couple of msgs. That’s it. I switched it off again and went out with one of my flat mates. Suddenly, another flat mate of mine calls up on her cell and starts apologizing me about how she forget it. I just lied its too late. It was yesterday. He He! Another experiment. Thought it would shut her up, from doing something silly like getting a gift.

After dinner I came home, trying to tell myself it’s was after all just another day. There were no frantic phone calls from my BF at my friend’s number. Its 12 am, the day ends.
My experiment is over.

Suddenly I hear the rest of my flat mates returning home. Expecting foul play, I quickly switch off the lights and jump to my bed to feign sleep. But they had to embarrass me with a stupid cake. It was probably the saddest part of the day. I had to cut the cake, I tried not to be rude but couldn’t help much. Hoped it would be over quickly, at least that bit happened pretty fast. The minute the cake was finished they left me alone.
Why did they have to do this formality? Why couldn’t people just let you be?

Its so sad birthdays aren’t anything like what they were when I was 10. I can’t ask what I want. I can’t expect everyone to be excited about it. Only now I realize how lovely things were back then and all because of my parent’s efforts.

With age why do we change? Why do I want everyone to forget my birthday and still am disappointed when nothing special happens. Why this dichotomy? Why can’t B days be same forever? And what pray is the point of this write up???

- The point is I am trying to accept the inadequacies of this fake concept. The vast difference between what is and what could be. I am accepting my hypocrisies.

P.S. I don’t want anyone wishing me belated Happy B’ Day.

Come laugh at my poverty!!!

Extremely poor.
That’s what I feel right now. This is no mockery of poverty. It’s the bloody real thing.

It’s an irony that since I have started earning I have seen more poverty than ever before. Right now I have a 100 rupee note in my pocket and that’s all. Tomorrow I have to pay my home rent, the maid’s salary and of course money for food.

In my present status, only my dear roommate Mr. Rat gives me unfailing company. Much as I want to, I can’t get him anything i.e. the rat kill and spend a precious Rs. 38 on him. So, I let him feast in some corner of my room on some valuables with the constant terror of his squeaks.

It is so funny how even the dependable things in life also cheat you in a moment like this. Like the ATM machine. The last time I withdrew money I was quite surprised when my balance read Rs 300 something even after I had withdrawn Rs. 300. Because my original balance had been Rs 400. I went home thinking my memory has forgotten something sweet, I had more money than Rs. 400 and that I can actually spend a couple of more days without borrowing money.

Didn’t realize happiness would be so short lived. Yesterday when I went to the ATM, it wasn’t working. Thinking what the hell, I walked down to the next ATM. Punched Rs 300, it refused to come out and said insufficient balance. Completely zapped and a little suspicious, I punched Rs 200 the second time. The stubborn machine popped out a slip which said insufficient balance. Shocked curious and scared that my account might get blocked (ya even that has happened with me) I checked my balance. Surprise! It said Rs 128.

I was so mad, I didn’t realize that I simply stepped out of the ATM and started walking towards home, some 2 kms away. I didn’t have the heart to take a rickshaw with just 100 bucks in my pocket to keep me going till I don’t know when.

Sometimes I feel this is the bane of all my excesses. But come to think of it what excesses do I indulge in? I don’t drink anything apart from water, milk and cold drinks. I smoke but only when forced to passively. I go clubbing scarcely. Then where does the money go?

I am comforted by a common line on Tees seen long ago “My dad is an ATM”. I am not at all ashamed. But again it’s really a catch 22 situation. Money couldn’t come from home yesterday because the banks had half yearly closing. And that’s the reason they gave today also. Tomorrow is Gandhi Jayanti. So, I will have to wait till the day after.

I won’t say something similar has never happened before. I remember last diwali. I was alone in my flat. I had 500 bucks; you would say that was much better than the present scenario. Wait a minute. I took the same 500 bucks to the recharge shop and what do I find out? The note is fake.

That’s what my regular recharge guy tells me, this when I think he owes half his property to me. He advices me not to use it elsewhere and also warns me someone might call the police (bastard is really concerned about me). But I had no choice, I was alone at home. There was no one to lend me money. I went ahead and probably did one of the worst things of my life.

I bought some dia’s from a small road-side vendor. Like a mad woman scared to be caught, I then ran home and decorated my home with those lamps. To top it all I had the shamelessness of feeling relieved for not being caught. Perhaps I am paying for that.

Well I don’t know I can’t do much about it now. Will have to wait till the day after for the money to come and feed myself and Mr. Rat.