My Birth Day Breakfast
—By Thanreingam Muivah
Feeling somewhat groggy by the previous night’s hangover, I opened my eyes, stretched my body and checked out my mobile only to discover a lengthy message from Bliss wishing me a “Happy Birth Day” at 3.33 am (The Message Details option reveals). So early you say? Let me tell you, she, who I came in contact with not so long ago but know thoroughly by now, is such an early worm catcher who would not find it hard to wake up at dawn even after retiring late in the night. Being the only person whom I had made the date of my birth known to, she had agreed to give me a company on my special day that was just about a month away, counting from the time I disclosed my sunsign to her, but with a condition that if she happened to be in Imphal on that particular day. Anyway let me simply put it that it would not be right on my part to insist someone to come all the way, travelling umpteen lopsided mountains when monsoon is in full swing just for the sake of a birth day treat.
Well, how do you celebrate your birth day? You print out number of invitation cards carrying the most decorative looks with special reception? Chalk out some of your near and dear ones and switch on to ceaseless disco tune with continuous offer of pegs both hard and soft in a specific interval of time? Throw a party at a restaurant or simply hang out with friends to enjoy some sorts of snacks in the open air? There are in fact varying ways of celebrating birth day occasions. I too had hardly missed birth day parties usually organised for few like-minded friends in secluded places. Until recently it used to be a sort of tradition among us (few close friends) that a birth day boy or girl does not bid the day without throwing a party—No matter how big or small it may be.
However, after leaping over few years of such occasions I finally decided to experience a unique way of celebrating birth day. So this time around I did not remind anyone—either friends or family members—about the day. Nor did I tell any one of my immediate neighbours about it. I spent the day in a very selfish manner and to my surprise it turned out to be quite satisfactory. It was such a simple birth day I have ever observed that I did not even have to cringe on the thought of what preparation should be made especially in terms of the allocation of budget for the event. On that fateful morning having done with all the washup chores, I lied flat on the bed rather asking to myself what special would the day bring about in an optimistic way. At that very moment I also knew for sure that after 2 pm I would be confined at the desk again as usual struggling the sweats because of the heat of fifteen odd computers running simultaneously at the rate of about ten hours daily in a single room although big enough the size is. Then I recounted the year that had just passed by not missing the opportunity to relive the memories—some good, some bad and nostalgia.
Just as I tried to put my heavy head forward on the basis of what I had learnt from the past, my junior neighbour called me “Brother your paper.” I scanned the paper hurriedly with the intention to switch myself back to the birth day thoughts but got stuck somewhere in the front page that displayed a photo of the husband and the child of Rabina, a pregnant woman who was killed in an alleged shoot out that occurred in the heart of Imphal City the previous day. The inset of the three column news was about the story of various women organisations urging all the 60 MLAs of the State to resign on the sidelines of Rabina’s murder in broad daylight. Unable to imagine the pangs of the husband and the child, I kept myself aside from being dragged into details of such mysterious story.
And yet for the second time my attempt to pour out some birth day thoughts was marred by a brassy voice of my neighbour Amit, a job consultant. You can imagine the horror of being a neighbour to a person whose profession compels him to attend constant calls made by customers in a job-seeker-ridden State. Already irked by the unending loud conversations, I went upstairs and found myself a room that was vacated quite sometimes back. In that room itself I cleaned the unbothered chair lying partially covered with dust and made certain resolutions for the new year I had zoomed into.
Binding those resolutions made on the firm structure of self-contemplation, I went down to my room, shut the door and said few words of prayer to have the strength to keep them ever alive. One important closure was to keep myself abstained from the habit of indulging into what Sister Aruna has always been disapproving in me. In other words, to quit that ‘stuff’ so that I don’t begin my day with the hangover it causes.
This is how the morning of my selfish birth day occasion went. No delicacies like bear shaped sandwiches, teddy bear cake, teddy bear shaped sugar cookies, gummy bears, grilled chicken, pasta salad, jelly bear cut outs, teddy grahams, fruit dip and assorted fruits, to borrow few names. No funny and wacky games either. It was also such a selfish occasion that I could not even reply on time the only message wishing me a ‘blissful’ birth day last Saturday. But believe me, with barely half an hour left after pouring out the day’s thoughts I had the hastily cooked rice and boiled egg and headed for the office.
The writer can be reached via : athan4you@yahoo.com