Age and life

What would a one year old toddler understand as people gather around her, and mom and dad point at a burning candle and a cake? At that age who would understand the relevance of a cake, or a candle or a party or even the people singing a birthday song for you… I didn’t. I was like that till five years, I guess, oblivious of the fact of my surroundings and my age.

That was till I was five and after that I became a little aware of these words: birthday, age, cake, flavor, party and gifts. I thought that birthday was equivalent to gifts (birthday=gifts; and not, birthday= age) and not age. Age was just a factor of getting the right gift from parents.

Till eighteen and twenty it really meant something. I really looked forward towards this day of the year as it meant so many things. It meant growing up. It meant a step towards my  independence (but not complete independence). It meant I could drink, have night outs, have boyfriends and all the things that I could not do as a child.

Then there was the phase of early twenties, which was obviously good and exciting. It meant new life, career, dreams, ambitions, car, house, marriage and life after that. Mid twenties was able to bring some panic into me, but I stayed strong and managed. And so it was only after twenty five that I started believing that age is just a number. So, that’s what I started doing whenever I blew the birthday candles I just believed that I was twenty five and ever since I’ve stayed twenty five. Now please don’t take my word for it; it only means that I look much younger than other people of my age. The funny part is people are not able to guess my real age (so I guess it really works…staying young at heart, believing that it is just a number and whatever to make you feel good) So, do I care? I think earlier I use to, but now I don’t…it is just a number and I’m happy to continue my life’s journey.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/age-old-questions/

Best birthday ever

Mom’s are the sweetest things ever, they are the best gift from God. My mom, she is a mixed combo of sweet, sour, tangy and chilly emotions. No, she is no dish but she is one weird being. There are times when she’ll go out of the way to do things for me and she is this sweet candy bar to me.

Then there are times when inspite of me telling her ten thousand times not to do a particular thing….what will she do? She will end up doing the same exact thing that I have told her not to do. So I associate this stubborn nature of hers as being tangy and sour.

And then there are days when she is just fiery, flaming, hot chilly. This is the only time when I’m scared of her. No reasoning helps her to understand me or my situation. This is the only time when she dominates me.

Yes, I know Mother’s day is over but do you need just one special day to remember or tighten this great bond. No, I don’t think so. Whenever you find the time you should try to strengthen this bond or any bond that is special to you.

The other day I went to one of my friend’s birthday party and that’s when I remembered her- my mom.

I remembered that she would wake up early to make me my favourite pancakes on my birthdays. School seemed to be very boring than usual as I knew something delicious was waiting for me at home. And yes, I was right as I arrived home mom would serve me pulao (rice made with chopped vegetables and dry fruits) and chicken curry. A short nap was followed after lunch and when I woke up it was homework time. Since it was a special day I got leave from studying. Then along with others I would cut my birthday cake, enjoy, play and the hectic day filled with fun would come to an end. The dinner would be served with my favourite sweet dish…kheer (a kind of rice pudding).

The veg pulao dish

The veg pulao dish (rice made with veggies and dry fruits)

Kheer (another rice dish which is sweet)

Kheer (another rice dish which is sweet)

 

 

 

 

 

 

The menu for my birthday remained the same irrespective of whatever my age was. The dishes never lost its taste, never seemed to be boring or too simple. Inspite of it being repeated every time once a year I never once felt that it should be stopped.

Now the independent and grown up person that I have become I celebrate this day as it pleases me. I would go shopping, watching movie with friends or go on a vacation…anything that is away from usual.

I still remember those birthdays spent with her. There was no money involved to make me happy then but there was her love and affection that made my day so special. Her sparkling smile with the good morning kiss and the birthday wish would fill me with the fountain of positivity. Though I might dine at a famous restaurant on my birthday, eat an expensive dish or receive a precious gift…all this put together will never be able to equate those birthdays spent with my mom.

Although she visits me sometimes, which is atleast once or twice a year. She would off and on cook my favourites during her visits. However, the alignment of my special birthday menu on that very special day hasn’t come to life in a very long time (ever since I moved out of home).

Twelve year old

The twelve year old that I was, I don’t remember her any more. But I do remember her not to be fun loving (like other kids of her age), not to have many friends, not to be an attention seeker and most definitely not to be a pampered child.

However, she was an obedient kid, a studious kid perhaps and she was a loveable child in the family.

When I look at that twelve year old kid now; I see that she has lost much of her resemblance to me. The only thing common between us is our birthdays and our parents.

 I don’t remember her wearing a smile on her face. I don’t remember her making a list of things to be asked as birthday gifts.

Many things have changed over a period of time and so has she.

“Birthday is a time to eat good food,” she thought and asked her mother to cook something special. And she did get special food to eat on her birthday. Didn’t matter what it was, so far as there was some chicken and rice on the menu her little tummy was content and her heart happy.

For the little twelve year old there was no work other than studying. There were fewer occasions when the bags were opened with the intention to just complete the homework. Birthdays were one such special occasion for her.

School time could not be skipped, but after reaching home began her fun hours. The entire day was lost in playing and watching cartoons until it was dinner time.

After having a good meal it was time for her to go off to sleep.

Daily Prompt: Shake it Up