IN BETWEEN MY TOXIC YOUTH AND MY 37th BIRTHDAY
WHY BIRTHDAYS HOLD A SPECIAL SIGNIFICANCE IN MY LIFE
This is the story of a man, his battle with depression, and his pursuit of love, friendship, and dreams after enduring a toxic and alcoholic youth. It begins with HUMING BIRD’s 37th birthday, (yep, that’s what the author calls him), where he sat alone under the midnight sky on his open balcony, welcoming a new year in his life. He believed everyone should celebrate two new years, not just the ones born on January 1st
(Me refers Huming Birds himself here after.)
Hi I am Huming Bird and today is my 37th birthday its not actually its 11:30 still 30 minutes to go for the big day, for me birthdays hold a special significance. They’re akin to a rebirth, a day when everything seems more vibrant — the hills beside our village appear greener, the flowers brighter, the roads alive, and even the wind whispers of renewal. Memories of my school days linger, where my birthday was a cherished event. Mom’s gift of a new shirt added to the thrill, while in school, the treat from my parents, who also happened to be my class teachers, made the day extra special. Sharing the joy was my brother, my constant companion in the same class.
As evening fell, our family gathered on the long veranda, settling onto the wooden sofa — my sister between me and my brother. Dad led expectant singing sessions, and occasionally, Mom joined in, her voice resonating more beautifully than any melody I’ve known.
The Ayatis, revered senior women from the village who prayed in the temple, graced us with their blessings. Tea and sweets were shared, and an aura of pure happiness enveloped us.
(Phone vibrates)
“Happy birthday, HB,” Ayesha greeted me, affectionately using my nickname.
“Thank you, Ayesha,” I replied, embracing her warmth, adding a heartbreak emoji to playfully tease her.
“No love, how about 37k kisses and promises for true love?” I responded, weaving in a touch of humor and affection, paired with a heart emoji.
“Love you Xo, let’s celebrate,” I reciprocated, expressing affection and readiness to celebrate our bond.
“Okay, heading to the kitchen to make some tea,” I acknowledged her request with discipline, agreeing to her suggestion.
“Alright, xoxo, I’ll be right back,” I assured her, adding a heart emoji, displaying affection even in my brief absence.
Ayesha is more than a friend, or perhaps I could describe our bond as a platonic relationship.
I muttered while my smartwatch indicated 1 AM.
My 15th birthday remains etched in my memory, and I’m haunted by regret, pondering how I brought sorrow upon myself and my family.
Lately, my mornings arrive later; I spend most nights watching movies on CDs, occasionally delving into adult content. My circle mostly comprises CD suppliers, and when they’re out of stock, I bring my own.
Mom gifted me a splendid purple shirt. Although I wished for 500 rupees alongside, Dad surprised me with the sum. Despite no longer attending their school, they’d treat the staff, ending my era of exhilarating school birthdays.
At the GUNTI SHOP, Arup Da awaits, engaged in a game of carom. His possession of a bike earns my friendship, as riding it feels like soaring through the sky.
Draped like an 80s Assamese Tollywood hero, armed with 500 rupees, I feel akin to an Ambani in my own right. Given my parents’ roles as government teachers, I’m often perceived as a wealthy kid by my friends — mostly the offspring of government officials or farmers. This perception prevails within our small village, especially among our neighbors. My father, the village committee president, is occupied with social initiatives and improving the school’s insufficient infrastructure.
Racing at 90km/hr towards Guwahati, I embarked on my maiden visit to a bar. Ingesting beer here is a trend, a narrative relished by my friends during our evening Adda.
After an exhilarating hour-long ride on Arup Da’s bike, we reached our destination. Walking into the bar felt like stepping into the limelight. Arup Da ordered round after round of beer and an allu paratha. Consuming seven beers seemed apt, attempting to outshine Arup Da, but it was all in jest. I entertained him with endless tales about girls and their flirting skills. He admired the 500 rupees as a significant sum. I estimated the bar bill would hover around 500 rupees.
Awakening at midday, I called out for “MAA,” only to find an empty house. Reality dawned — I’d missed my birthday, my memory clouded after the last beer.
A call from my girlfriend, MissX1, ended abruptly as my father had restricted phone usage due to an inflated telephone bill last month.
(phone vibrats)
Ayesha’s message popped up, signaling her usual inquiry. “How is the tea, Love?”
“Appreciating the tea, thank you,” I replied, maintaining a composed tone and acknowledging her query with a curt heart emoji.
“I want to take care of you all the time, love,” she continued, expressing her intentions.
“Your care is duly noted, Ayesha,” I responded, emphasizing formality, followed by a brief acknowledgment with an ‘xoxo.’
“Are you still looking at the stars?” Ayesha’s question was a shift from the usual, an attempt to stir conversation.
“Merely engrossed with my laptop and tea at the moment,” I replied, maintaining a disciplined tone and briefness, seasoned with a heart emoji.
“What about your skydiving plan?” The inquiry, though seemingly casual, carried a tinge of authority and direction.
“The plan is in progress, under control,” I replied, aiming to convey a sense of discipline and focus in my response.
AYESHA always nudged me about my skydiving plans, and I admired how she cared about my dreams.
It was my 20th birthday, a day that perhaps marked the beginning of my faith in GOD. Do you remember the hill next to our house and village? That hill held a unique spot in my heart. Its lush greenery and striking peaks stood as a symbol of strength and beauty — a beautiful blend.
You might recall, I was already dressed like a Bollywood star, thanks to the blue T-shirt gifted by my mother. And here’s the big news — I’m now the proud owner of a 127 cc super bike, thanks to my mom’s persuasive skills with dad and my relentless requests. These days, 500 rupees have turned into 1000. I also had a Kodak film camera and planned a photo shoot with my Gang. At that time, influenced by Bollywood gangster movies, we fancied ourselves a ‘Gang.’
Now, I had this quirky hobby — I loved leaping from great heights. There was a cliff in the middle of the hill, aptly named “SATA SIL,” where we’d take daring jumps. Missing the landing meant a 300ft plunge to a flat area, risking serious injury. Yet, I enjoyed showcasing these stunts to my friends, always seeking their admiration. Sometimes, we’d even enjoy a drink atop the cliff.
A birthday bash was a must for our Gang, so we decided on a Cliffside bear party. The view of our entire village’s agricultural fields from there was truly breathtaking. Our conversations wandered among girlfriends, adventurous escapades, and, of course, alcohol.
Suddenly, I found myself alone at the cliff, barely hearing my friends shouting from below for me to climb down. My legs trembled as I struggled to stand on the edge, barely able to see the distant farmland. For the first time, death felt uncomfortably close, whispering warnings against any attempt to descend.
In that moment, I felt the presence of GOD in my life. With no one from my Gang coming to rescue me, I closed my eyes and leaped towards the landing stone below.
The next morning, I awoke to my mom’s saddened face, barely able to move my feet and covered in scars. I felt an urge to hide away, realizing I wasn’t the person I should be. I sensed GOD as my savior. Yet, in my intoxicated state, I forgot to appreciate GOD’s blessings by loving myself, a gift that GOD had granted once again.
My friends visited when my parents went off to school, encouraging me to give life another shot. I remembered that someone was waiting to see my life back on track, a reminder to cherish the life gifted by GOD and spread kindness and beauty in our beautiful village and the world.
I remember a nightmare that night about falling from the cliff again and this time I missed the landing. This incident made me afraid of heights. Little did I know, the future was going to get even scarier and more poisonous for me.
(The phone vibrates)
As I open WhatsApp, Ayesha’s message about pending tasks from the last three months stares back at me. I can’t recall the last time I didn’t consider the notion that without putting in effort, I’d only age, lag behind, and ultimately end up as a loser.
“Ayesha, a beautiful genius, carries a simple elegance that conceals a caring heart. I feel fortunate to have crossed paths with her.”
She ended her text asking me to get some sleep and lunch together for birthday celebrations and I agreed.
“The happiest birthdays I remember are from my school days; they’re just nostalgic memories now.
I was celebrating my 21st birthday. It’s tough to maintain the facade of being inexperienced after a five-year relationship in post-teenage years.
Let’s call her ‘Miss X1’ for now, a brilliant and stunning girl I’ve ever met. I must say, she had curves.
“Finally, after five years of circling the runway, we ditched the rulebook and set the stage for a birthday extravaganza that sizzled with tantalizing promises.”
This time, my parents decided not to celebrate my birthday with me. They knew they were witnessing their good son derailing his life and dreams. I had accomplished nothing since failing my senior secondary examination a few months back. Evenings were spent drinking alcohol with our Gang, chatting at the backside of the temple near the hillside.”
Guwahati, about 35 kilometers from our village, was the rendezvous point for MissX1 and me, both hailing from nearby villages. I secured my friend’s college room, timing our plans for when he’d be away.
Unabashed, I asked my mother for funds for my birthday bash before heading to pick up Miss X1 from a shop corner near her college canteen. Her floral gown, a mix of red, blue, and black dots, was magnetic. I felt goose bumps as she touched my hand while riding pillion on the bike. With thoughts of the room fragranced by my friend’s spray, I sped up.
Her excitement matched mine, maybe even surpassing it. Arriving at my friend’s place, without mobile phones at the time, we directly headed to his room.
Our enthusiasm was doused when we found my friend’s father welcoming us into the rented room. We tempered our excitement by sipping red tea, sugar-free due to his father’s diabetes. Our condition was like reminiscent of drenched cats seeking shelter from the downpour.
After the lowering temptation and the wasted birthday extravaganza, it didn’t dawn on me how to chart a path for a real-life transformation. A toxic teenage phase led to skipping studies for about 3 to 4 years, resulting in failure at the senior secondary level, casting a shadow over my youth. Wasting my birthday extravaganza could not make me realized about how to plan for a real life after a toxic teenage with an outcome of 3to 4 years skipping my studies as a senor secondary fail and responsible of a dark youth.
The day took an unexpected turn as we chose to visit the Planetarium, using the showtime as a backdrop for our shared kisses and intimate moments.
In a rare departure from several continuous alcoholic birthdays, this day with MissX1 was alcohol-free, focused instead on love and discussions about our dreams. As dusk settled, we strolled along the riverbank, weaving dreams together.
MissX1, with her unwavering insistence, gently guided me to see beyond the haze of immaturity and lack of education. Her influence sparked a decision within me — I resolved to pursue a diploma in engineering, setting a course for a more promising future.
That evening, after a heartwarming family dinner, where my mom, Papa, siblings, and I shared laughter, I found tears welling up in my eyes. It was a poignant moment — the birthday boy, sitting at the family table after a long time, realizing the importance of family in life’s journey on this earth.
As the alarm pierced through my dreams, I jolted awake from a vivid nightmare of plummeting from great heights, my heart racing as I caught my breath.
(Phone vibrates)
Hey, did you have breakfast yet?
Oops, I’m in the kitchen, give me a sec, I’ll be ready soon.
What’s cooking for breakfast?
Haha, sticking to my usual: Dal soup and a bowl of rice with mixed veggies…
You should toss in some eggs for a change, love…
Alright, and I won’t skip the fruits either, okay?
She’s so caring, we plan our day together, and we’ve got a romantic dinner tonight at her favorite restaurant.
Messages from Ayesha awaited me, each one a glimpse into her goal-oriented life. Her dedication to hot yoga before sunrise keeps her vibrant and focused. I’ve adopted her routine, and I have to admit, her discipline is working wonders, chipping away at my tendency to procrastinate.
During my senior secondary years, I encountered a computer for the first time when a friend bought a desktop. Back then, this device felt like a miracle — I learned how to handle a mouse and got hooked on games like Ping Pong and later IGI. We mainly used the computer for watching movies and playing games, but I developed a deep fondness for it and nurtured a latent desire to learn more about it.
On the day of my admission to the Assam Engineering Institute, I applied for Computer Science and Engineering. Securing a spot thrilled me; I was eager to dive into something I truly wanted to pursue. However, my joy turned into despair when my father declined permission for me to enroll in CS. He was wary of keeping me in Guwahati due to my five-year platonic relationship with MissX1.
Consequently, I found myself admitted to another institute in a different district, studying civil engineering. It was a heavy blow to our plans and my confidence, but I had no choice. I entered into an incredible long-distance relationship, and my aspirations of having a computer were buried, especially since our education system at the time didn’t offer advanced opportunities unless one joined prestigious institutes like the IITs or expensive universities.
My mobile phone became a conduit for both my studies and premature wedding plans with MissX1. We indulged in romance, spending endless nights immersed in each other’s voices through the phone.
However, my alcohol-fueled parties began to take shape, forming a group of friends. We gradually incorporated marijuana into our gatherings, sidelining my studies and eclipsing my parents’ hopes. While romance flourished, Miss X seemed distant due to our differing lifestyles, expressing her insecurities about our future together. Her concern was palpable.
On my 23rd birthday, my parents wished me over the phone, delighted with my satisfactory first-year results. I’d developed a penchant for birthday bashes, so my group and I planned an extravagant party, oblivious to the consequences of our reckless behavior that would soon alter my life’s trajectory once again.
Intoxicated and in a haze that evening, I failed to call Miss X1, failing to inform her about my unacceptable lifestyle. The next morning, frantic, I scoured my room and friends’ places, searching in vain for my lost phone. I finally resorted to a public phone booth, but she refused to pick up, leaving me in despair.
Days passed, feeling like an eternity without her caring support and love. My attendance at classes dwindled, further deteriorating my situation. After nearly two weeks, she answered my call, forgiving but shattered. Someone from my friends had used my stolen phone to spew disrespectful comments about her.
Though we tried to mend things and move forward, the damage had been done. I was still blind to the respect a woman deserved. Ashamed and regretful, I couldn’t fathom my foolishness. I stood at the precipice of adulthood, realizing the gravity of my actions.
“Alexa bathed the room in a soft blue hue. Taylor Swift’s ‘Love Story’ softly played in the background, giving the atmosphere a romantic touch. The blue light added a thoughtful ambience.
As my phone vibrated, Ayesha greeted me with a ‘Hey, birthday boy…’ and I couldn’t help but respond with a smile emoji. Trying to steer the conversation toward intimacy, I asked her what it meant to her.
Her reply was beyond words. According to her, intimacy transcends mere physicality. It’s about heart-to-heart conversations, staying up all night to share childhood memories, thoughts, fears, dreams, and hopes for the future. It’s the unrestrained laughter, deep eye contact, and feeling each other’s presence without physical touch; it’s about exchanging energy.
Her thoughts left me speechless. All I could do was respond with a red heart emoji. Curious about her feelings, I asked, and she replied, expressing that I’m her sunshine, her joy, her happiness, her life, her best friend, her everything. She professed her love for me, more than anything in this world.
Overwhelmed with emotions, I showered her with heart emojis and promised to be back soon, heading to the kitchen to grab my favorite red tea.”
It was my 24th birthday, and I was back home on a short break from classes. Birthdays didn’t hold the same excitement as before, and I sensed the weight my parents might have carri”ed. Yet, a glimmer of hope sparked as this semester had gone well. Mom gave me a T-shirt; her kiss on my cheek felt like an embrace of extraordinary motherly love.
I hopped on my bike to the corner shop near MissX1’s college canteen. She wasn’t home; visiting her uncle in another district. Our calls had dwindled lately. For the past five years, she never missed sending me her anticipated greeting cards and love letters, sealed with kisses and lipstick. But this birthday marked the end of an era — the end of those love-filled letters. I lit a cigarette at the corner shop and made my way to the riverbank, reminiscing about our six years together. I called Dipak, my friend from the village, and headed to the bar.
A week later, on a Friday, I woke to MissX1’s call, her voice filled with tears. I sensed her anguish mirrored mine. Somewhere, we blamed our decision to remain platonic. We talked through the night, deciding to meet the next day.
I rushed to the highway, aiming to catch the night buses from Upper Assam. I remember standing on the crowded bus, lost in memories of her. I reached Guwahati without realizing it.
There she was, by the Cotton College gate, wearing the same red and blue floral gown with black dots. My heart raced, an unfamiliar sensation at the sight of her.
We decided to visit the zoo. Seeking privacy, we found a secluded spot along a tiny road inside the zoo. Without many words, we engaged in deep kissing and intimate touches, a sensation we’d never felt in the past six years. We were lost in the moment, unaware of a guard observing us.
Taken to the zoo office, she was petrified. After a discreet bribe of a hundred rupees, we were let off. It was a nostalgic yet sweet memory.
We spent the day chatting and strolling around our favorite park by the Brahmaputra river. As evening approached, it was time to part ways. I helped her into a small taxi, watching her go until the vehicle disappeared from sight. Tears welled up, knowing this was our final chapter.
A message beeped on my phone. Miss X1 — ‘You’ll remain in my heart forever, JANN.’
Scrolling through previous messages, I found her birthday note sent last week. ‘Dear JANN, we dreamt of a life together filled with pure love and trust. But we need to move forward. I’ve said yes to Pankaj, a bank manager. I have to secure my future. I’m at my uncle’s house, here to meet him, as he’s our neighbor. I’m sorry, JANN.’
I whispered to myself, ‘Happy birthday, HUMMING BIRD.’ The bus is en route to my hostel.
“I cherish the evening twilights; I’d be incredibly delighted if someday you’d invite me to your balcony for a cup of coffee. Surrounded by flowers and the soft glow of twilight, perhaps even under the gentle gaze of the moon. I find myself getting lost in these thoughts, it’s an addiction, and I’m not entirely sure why.
(Phone vibrates) “Good morning, how about breakfast?” Glancing at the time, it’s 4:30 am. Ayesha embodies discipline and consistency, rising early without fail each day. It’s a trait I admire greatly. I’m truly grateful to have a friend like her; she always encourages me to maintain a daily workout routine.”
Your unconditional love and support can encourage me through my journey. I kindly request you to follow my profile and support me on http://buymeacoffee.com/dip8ankar6.
