Not just another day

“It was just another day” I would always tell myself. Just because I was born on that particular date, doesn’t make it special. Indian government is not going to declare it a holiday. Archies is not going to print and circulate greeting cards in the market for that day. Half the population is not going to go crazy on that day like they do on Valentine’s Day. And the rest of the population is not going to cry foul saying that celebrating that day squashes Indian culture. It was just another day.

Parents called me and wished me happy birthday. I said, “Ha ha… It is just another day”.

Little brother messaged me happy birthday. I replied, “Ha ha… It is just another day”.

My flat mates didn’t wish me happy birthday. Well, they didn’t know that it was my birthday. I cannot run around shouting that it is my birthday. I told myself, “It is just another day”.

My colleagues didn’t wish me happy birthday. Well, they didn’t know that it was my birthday. I cannot run around shouting that it is my birthday. I told myself, “It is just another day”.

My inbox had only the usual official mails. There was no mail with the subject ‘Happy Birthday’. My friends hadn’t wished me happy birthday. Hmmm… Aren’t they supposed to greet me on my birthday? I told myself, “Even then, it is just another day”.

The day passed. Why did it pass slower than the other days? I screamed at myself, “IT IS JUST ANOTHER FREAKING DAY”.

Why did I refresh my inbox more often than usual? Why did I have that empty feeling when I found that there were no mails from friends? Why did I repeatedly check if my mobile was charged and received signals? I asked myself, “Is it not just another day?”

Somebody in the Gmail group triggered a contentious topic. We all took sides and ferociously defended our sides. I was very much in the debate. Most importantly, I was almost singled out to defend my side and I was WINNING. I built an impenetrable castle around my side of debate and successfully shattered every one else’s defense. It was like I was standing right amongst my friends and yet those idiots didn’t remember that it was my birthday. What the hell. Isn’t it your duty to remember your friends’ birthdays? I told myself, “It doesn’t seem to be just another day”.

I felt like slightly modifying the ‘Mere khwabon ka’ song from Jism and sing as:
Mere pahachaan ka anek shakhs
Isi duniya mein hai.
Main bhi zinda hoon
Zara unko batha dein koii

It was almost the end of the day. A friend at US sent a mail saying “Happy Birthday, Indu”. Aah… Finally.

Then the mails flowed. Some blamed their own poor memory. Some said they had remembered about my birthday a few days ago but somehow forgot it on the all-important day. Some even complained that I should have reminded them of my birthday. Come on, buddy. I don’t run around singing “Happy birthday to me”. Whatever, It certainly was not just another day.