On her 42nd birthday

 

So my last birthday post was 11 years back. I was young, foot loose and fancy free and angsty. Rebel without a pause, those were the words someone had used for me, I remember. A bull in a China shop, falling in and out of love. 

Of course, I've changed. But that's not the point of this post. It's about birthdays. Some of us revel in them, and a few like me loathe them. At least I used to, till last year. Because I had expectations. And no one could match them. The blip in the radar was not how I celebrated me, but how others did.

But come on, 42, mid life crisis, children, Corona, who the fuck cares about your birthday? But I do. I have come a long way and will give myself a pat on the back, not just on this momentous year, of giving zero fucks any more, but all those years when people did try. And thank you to those people for trying. I may not have said it then, but as you grow older, memories form a big part of your existence.

My first awareness of 'self' was in the womb. Even my mother ridicules me for remembering how it was inside. But I do. I also remember my first birthday, lying on the bed in that one bedroom house and the neighbour coming in with a cake. Her daughter who was four shared her birthday with me. I remember my last birthday when I fought with my son for disrespecting me and disappeared for two hours, sitting in a mall alone, crying. Sorry Raine, mommy's an over sensitive wooz when it comes to birthdays. It wasn't your fault at all.

I remember at 21 being escorted out of my newspaper office by my lovely friends who took me off on a yacht and made me blow candles in the middle of the sea. Mimi, ruki, vani, I'm forever grateful for that memory. It was the best of days that youth can know.

I remember that birthday in Pune where I was woken up with a shower of rose petals and breakfast in bed. R, whatever pain and hurt I endured, the good memories will always stay with me.

Fuzzy, standing outside my Bombay house at 12 in the night with a cake and candle. Fuzzy, who endlessly tries every year to make me happy with gifts I never like or appreciate, I'm sorry. I think, here on, you should stop buying me gifts and gift me vacations, because that's the only thing that makes me happy.

My mum and dad who bought me everything I asked for, even though I was a quitter and abandoned the cycle, the skates, the guitar. I promise I will stop being a quitter and spend the second half of my life persisting.

To the many friends I've had, to the ones I have. I know I'm difficult and fussy and a perfectionist and basically a pain in the arse. Thank you for putting up with me. 

Birthdays are days to celebrate ourselves and be thankful for all that we have. I do and I will. Promise to be a better version of myself. Just be patient with me, because learning to love yourself takes time. And I hope you will be around.

Sadness is my enemy
I fear time will age him gently
Walking by my side for all these years
Seems that we've grown friendly
Happiness is beautiful to see
Won't you box it up for me?
For me

Oh, give me strength and give me peace
Does any body out there want to hear me?

It's just another downpour, don't let it get the best of you
It's only up from the floor, light everything inside of you
Don't burn out, don't burn out on me
Don't burn out, don't burn out on me

- Burn out, Imagine Dragons