I didn't know if it was the escalating number or just me, but this birthday was no day I was looking forward to. A week was left for the day and I was not excited at all. There wasn't that berserk excitement that I felt every year. "Hold on, wait till tomorrow, you won't know how ecstatic you will get." I kept consoling myself with this but the day had arrived and I did not feel anything. Nothing felt special. Every year, I felt like the weather was just a little bit more beautiful this day (even though it's the most coldest of the year and there is no sun out in the sky) and that the air was a little more fresher, the colours were a little more vibrant... it always felt like everything was a little more of something good/positive. But this time everything seemed... normal.My bestfriend who lives miles away from where I am, announced to me that she'd have a Red Velvet cake for me (which I can't wait to try), two of my lovable buddies wished me at midnight and to top it all, one was trying to outdo the other (but lost) and there was that chat with a long lost friend. Everybody had remembered and tried to make it special, what was still missing? "Is this called growing old?"
I checked the time. Wow, the day was almost coming to an end. I could almost pinch myself to check on my reflex action. But before I could try it, there was that text message and the phone call. And thank god, there is a thing called cellular phones these days.
Two of my lovable buddies, Donga and Deepak, had been planning a surprise for me and it was a real real surprise. I got it the first time when they called me out of the blue with an even more out-of-the-blue-ish excuse (it's just too obvious to mention at all). But they got me good, real good, when that one pound chocolate cake arrived. My mouth was agape when I first laid my eyes on them, literally. I did not expect that AT ALL. After finishing the ritual of blowing the candle, clapping with a hearty smile, cutting the cake, clapping some more this time with lesser curve, eating a mini bit of it, monkey claps and beaming a smile at each other... we SMACKed each other's face with the fat free whipped cream of the cake. Like a great man once famously rapped, "You gotta party like it's your birthday", we followed suit with a series of smacking at face with cream, laughing at the target that becomes the victim till we were irrepressible and giddy with too much laughter: even though we were running out of time, even though the cafe was starting to close for the day.
It wasn't the age and it certainly wasn't me; this girl just wanted to have some good time with some good people who did not miss one opportunity to make her realise it was her day. I realised it had been long I hadn't laught so hard like I laughed that night. I realised it had been even more long I hadn't felt like I was at the right place at the right time with the right people like I felt that night. And I want to thank you two for that.
Something that I found while looking here and there from 'when I wasn't even born' years. Just let me feel a little younger in whatever ways I can, will ya? Thank you!
|Front row at the Chanel show, 1967|