The Happy Birthday

On xx day of the yy month, I was given the punishment of a lifetime by god: to survive this world.

Ever since a young age my birthday has been nothing but a cause of grief, sorrow and sadness. I know, it is cynical, almost cliched, to be saying that something bad always takes place on this day. But cliched as my life is, like any other life, it was true, or so I believed. Every birthday of mine brought some doom, not just on me, but on those around too.

But given that growth is an essential part of life, I understood with this growth that these are things we tend to believe as kids, that we are not loved, that badluck is something essential within our very soul. In my attempt to grow, to change and almost to redeem myself, I decided six months in advance that this birthday, not only would I not be upset, but Id try to almost celebrate myself, like a normal next person is supposed to. I was determined to make it a “happy birthday” indeed.

Living in a hostel with only one friend, I confessed this to her. I told her this not only because she was a suppsed friend but also because she would be the only one around to celebrate with me. A month prior she agreed and even suggested me what could be potential birthday cake options.

Fast forward to the night before my birthday, when I was waiting for the clock to hit midnight and cut the cake. I sat there in my pajamas, contemplating whether or not I should change into the dress that I had specifically chosen for this day.

40 minutes to 12, and she was on call with another friend of hers. (who, mind you, she sees every single day in college)

30 minutes to go, and i went to her, still on her conversation, and asked her if I should change. She looked at me, clearly only half interested in the question i had, and said “why? isnt this ok? where are you going anyway?” I came back a little upset, yet without my determination to have “the” birthday, shaken.

15 minutes till clock hits my birthday, and she comes in, still on call, asking me if I can order the cake.

10 minutes to go, and she brings me some candles, that looked dusted and old, handed me a lighter and said, still on call, “Can you put these on the cake and light it, I am coming”

5 4 3 2 seconds and she enters the room still on call and sings happy birthday, half heartedly, and from the looks of it, more into the phone than to me, and exists.

1 second and its 12, I blow the candles, and as i look around, darkness is the only companion.

I cut the cake, have a bite, take a picture and get ready for bed. “It must be something important that she is talking about” I was sure.

She enters the room, this time the phone is on her side, clearly having ended the call.

“Oh you are done? Good good. How is the cake?”

I turn in my bed and tell her it is nuce and that she should have a bite. Then, treading lightly, I ask if it was some emergency or was her friend upset.

“Not really. We were just planning her birthday party for next month”