We Wish You a

20th November 1984.

20th November 2008.



A lot of things have changed.

In 1984 , it was a cool Tuesday evening in a small local nursing home,

where my reluctant arrival was announced by an ear-shattering scream .

That was mom.

Not me.

I didn't cry much on that day.

I was merely reserving my strength claims mom,

for I was a cranky colicky baby that would cry every night for more than a
year.

The nurses told mom that she had delivered a beautiful baby boy

(mom's words , not mine) who was as fair as snow and just the right weight.



(It took about five years to get rid of that unnatural fairness. But now I'm
as tan as any Indian can be !)



Oh ! And look how cute his little shamey is !

(again , mom's words , not mine)



MOM ! I'm 25 now ! It's not funny anymore !



In 2008, I call mom early in the morning.

She tells me about her day.

I listen to her patiently.

She has to go attend someone's wedding.

I listen to her patiently.

The maid is quitting as she's getting married in three days.

I listen to her patiently.



Yes mother

Yes mother

Yes mother



And almost as an afterthought , she wishes me.



I say thank you.



I know later today she'll go to her favorite temple and pray for me.



Thank you again .



I don't call dad. I know he's busy.

He's in Mumbai attending a company seminar.



I don't think he'll remember unless mom reminds him...

ATLEAST A HUNDRED TIMES !



It's okay dad...It's not that important.

I don't mind.



I recall a birthday I once went to , where the birthday girl asked me ...

"So !You're the Only child aren't you ? You must be a completely spoilt
brat !"



"Hmm...(I add these Hmm's to appear smart)

"I always tell my parents how they lost their chance to spoil their only
son !" I tell her

"Now I tell them that they're too late because he's too old to be spoilt !"



Birthdays have always been tepid affairs at home.

At the age of ten , it was decided that I was too old for my birthday, so it
would not be celebrated anymore.

In fact on my tenth birthday , we kept a candle in a place filled with
uncooked rice and I blew it out , and that was it.



So instead, every year we'd have an alternative routine to confirm the
solemnity and specialness of the occasion.

On my birthday, I'd wake up early and then mom would take me to a temple
and make me pray. Later she would prepare a sweet dish and practically force
feed it to me.(I hate almost all sweet dishes, except home- made kaju barfi)



That was how my birthdays went. That's how they still go now.

No parties, no cakes, no gifts.

No regrets either.



But now my parents regret their decision. They want to celebrate my
birthday.

They want to throw a party , invite people and etc etc.

Of course , now it's my turn to expressly forbid such a farce.



Today on the ship, I kept my birthday a secret from all other ship staff.

I worked an extra hour on deck , securing all the lifebuoys to their
receptacles as we were expecting to bear the brunt of Tropical Storm Anika
and Tropical Storm Bernard who are trying to sandwich the ship in between
them.

But later , to my surprise , everyone had found out.

My company , in order to make me , one of its tiny insignificant employees ,
feel like he's a part of the larger family , had (in accordance with the
company's spiritual & holistic advisor) warmly sent a computer generated
email sending its best regards , along with the name of the company general
manager and the company motto as its signature.

(Besides a Job, we offer a Career & Commitment)



Suddenly , with the cat out of the bag, everyone was wishing me .

Clint sang a heavily accented 'Happy Birthday To You' , to which I said
that I'd rather have Marilyn Monroe sing it.

Nobody...well almost nobody got the joke.



Now , I'm being a bit childish , but I'm entitled to be a bit childish
today.



SO here's my email id



shipoff.c6xb2@globeemail.com



Hey ! It's not too late.



I'll pretend like I'm still waiting.


Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Thu, 20 Nov 2008 16:00 UTC
Message-id: 700774702S183