Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Birthday and a strange gift.

September 27, every year, happens to be my birthday. People wish and call. And I am expected to treat them. What for? I mean, I had NO hand in my being born on this date (or on any other for that matter) because it was God’s (if there is one) and the doctor’s (this person was there for sure) decision! In fact, my parents didn’t even ask me if I wanted to be born on this date! I mean, it’s MY LIFE isn’t it?

And today happens to be September 26 and people are already wishing. A day early! Scratch scratch! And I don’t understand why people fret so much on birthdays. Yeah, I know it’s nice and all that but then I still don’t get the point. And not like miracles happen on birthdays! I mean I know because I have faced it. I got a call from someone who gave me the most unusual birthday gift, probably the most bitter, though. And to top it all off, the person asked me, “what can I do to make you feel better?”
That’s the weirdest question I have heard in the 22 years of existence of mine! I mean in spite of knowing what the person CAN do and also knowing that it’s NOT something that the person WILL do, why even bother asking. There is a lesson for all the people reading: when you know there is something you CAN do for someone but you DON’T WANT to do it, you will prove yourself extremely stupid if you still ask.

Anyway, life’s great the way it is and I guess luck is meant for the more fortunate. Fine, I am rambling on too much about one thing. Let’s just change the topic.

At 12 O’ Clock, mid-night I will be dunked. Now, dunking is this interesting concept on campus. Water is mixed in careful proportions with a lot of things like nail polish, Bournvita, shave gel, sand, eggs and a whole lot of other constituents and the person who happens to have the birthday is bathed in it. I know it sounds like one hell of a stinker and trust me, it IS!! And then everyone around is eventually dunked, though will just water. Will the birthday kicks follow? I don’t have any clue to that one question. Hope they don’t, though ☺
And not to mention all the cake that’s going to be smeared on my face! Freak…it sounds scary already. But rest assured, it’s fun. The problem will be at 12, when everyone is trying to call me and the number will be jammed. On birthdays, phone numbers end up looking like on of those caller driven shows where the numbers flashing on the screen are busy ALL THE TIME when one is actually trying the number! I sometimes wonder, these people who DO get through these numbers…do they keep trying throughout the whole damn day?! Roxy, our director’s dog was down with pneumonia sometime back. Though of late, the guy’s health is improving. He was barking at the monkeys on the trees today. Hey! My dog does the same! The monkeys up there know that the dogs can’t reach them anyway and the dogs keep barking continuously in the hope that either the monkeys will scamper away or will come down on even ground. Never happens. Monkeys win most of the time! Yeah, I know hope is one crappy thing in this world. N fact I just had someone telling me today “I don’t want you to have any hopes”. Hmm. Ok. No hopes then.

Now about the treat. One is supposed to treat people on the birthday. Pray tell me why should there be a treat for a decision taken about MY life in which I myself had no role to play?! Strange isn’t it? I completely agree. Oh… I just noticed that I had mentioned the treat point in the beginning. Sorry. Actually that first birthday gift (yeah, the same with the bitter taste) has actually confused me a little.

Last evening I was conversing with this girl who suddenly asked me to tell her something interesting because she was bored. What the hell? I mean, do I look like a vending machine that gives interesting trivia for a dime? She burst out laughing when she heard that. Was that freaking funny? I didn’t think it was. Told her that. Sometime later, she left in search of more interesting vending machines. That’s what happens to me all the time. As long as I am an interesting trivia and company vending machine, people from the opposite gender stay, then they just walk away. Wow. From now on I shall display a board saying VENDING MACHINE OUT OF STOCK. Good, ain’t it? I know.

My dog’s birthday is on January 17, every year. Why isn’t cake smeared on his face? Why doesn’t he have to blow out candles? Obviously because he is a DOG! Though, he does get to cut a cake, which he tries to sink his teeth into even before it’s cut! Sheesh. That’s one hungry manner less dog. But then again, are dogs supposed to be well mannered? Don’t really think so. If someone smears him with a cake, he will probably lick himself all over to clean it. Yeech.

Hey, I know a few people who share the birthday with me and trust me, it’s strange to say “same to you” when someone says “Happy Birthday”. Weird. Very weird. How many people do you happen to know of that kind? If there are many then welcome to the club!

Anyway, I am tired of typing. So I shall call it quits for this post and do something useful. I also have to get the bitter taste off me. Let’s see what I can do. This one birthday I will remember for sure. All because of that one gift and the dunking. God! I am yet another year older! My time on the face of this planet is reducing… help!!!!

Keep dropping in for more sometimes.


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