Born To Live
The present I gave myself on my birthday and discovered life.
It was my birthday a month after my dad passed away. I was in no mood for a celebration of any sort. I decided to have the day for myself and do things that would give me happiness not on just that day but whenever I look back on it. Here’s a short chronicle of that day:
I woke up, rubbed my eyes, realized what day it was, and smiled. Hurrying up to the terrace I watched the stars fade away and the sun pierces the darkness. The sky was filled with light, and I felt confidence and unbridled joy bubbling in me. The sunrise always worked for me.
I turned around, feeling special, and noticed that the earthen pots of water for the birds were now dry and empty. I filled them up, watered the plants, and traipsed back to my room. My phone lay by the side of my pillow, silent. I had switched it off last night.
While I made breakfast, I thought about what I would do that day. My mum was happy to see that breakfast was ready and blessed me profusely. There was still time to pass before I stepped out of the house, so I went about doing daily chores while listening to some ghazals.
When I left the house, the first place I drove to was the café that served my favorite fudge. I am someone who can’t eat alone; never have. That day though, I ate it all alone and knew that my friends would be so pissed off. But I had to do it- I needed this day to myself. I stayed in the café for another half an hour- watching the traffic outside steadily increase.
There was only one other customer in the café. A young man sat at the other end, with his back towards me. He had a canvas bag with him — probably a college student. When I went to pay the bill, I impulsively paid for the other person’s order.
On my way to my next destination, I stopped by a grocery store and bought a pack of toffees and two packs of cream biscuits. When I reached the orphanage, I paused. It was a small building. I hesitated before entering. I hadn’t been there since my father had left. I hesitated because I knew I was now one of them. It took me some self-motivation — if not today, then when?
The caretaker hugged me and spoke words of consolation. The kids were in Arabic class. It was a small orphanage cum school managed by an Islamic scholar. There were only fifteen children and each one’s story was unique.
When the class ended the children were just as happy to see me as I was to see them. Perhaps even more. They rarely had any visitors. Sure, the orphanage received generous donations — food, money, clothes — but seldom one’s time.
The caretaker brought tea and we all shared the toffees and biscuits. I listened to all their stories, ramblings, and their wishes — some of which I would soon fulfill and some of which I knew I may never be able to. Then it was time for me to leave. They asked me to come again soon and I promised I would. And I meant it.
It was almost evening and I was to return home before it was dark. There was only one place left to go to. The library.
I went around the aisles searching for a book. I had The Sheltering Sky in mind and was looking for it when something else caught my eye. It was ‘Five Go on a Hike Together’ of The Famous Five series by Enid Blyton. I loved The Famous Five, having read those in school. It was perfect for reading that night.
On my way, I saw a woman selling glow-in-the-dark stickers at the traffic signal. I bought two sets. After all, a gift was overdue.
On reaching home, I found my sisters waiting for me with a small cake. They had done it despite me telling them not to. Family!
By seven in the evening, I had retreated to bed and changed into comfortable night clothes. I switched on my phone and started thanking everybody for their wishes.
Friends called up as soon as they saw me online on WhatsApp and told me how I was a mean bitch before wishing me lifelong happiness.
It pleased me most to see that among those who had wished me at the stroke of midnight were some of my students. Their messages made me feel old but they also made me feel blessed.
By the time the day came to an end, I had snuggled into bed with the book from the library.
I realized that this day — which came only once a year — was done. No celebration. No friends. No innumerable cake cuttings. No cream on the face. No long talks on the phone. No presents.
I did miss talking to those friends who called only once a year (which showed that they cared enough to remember my special day) and catching up with them. They must have called and given up.
But that day, in a unique way, in that quiet celebration, I found peace and comfort which I hadn’t had for a month.
PS- It has been 8 years now! But even now, when I look back at that day, I feel warmth and peace.
