Happy Horror Birthday

It's my birthday today.So an extra article for everyone today. Its time to be happy! Whenever I think of the word birthday, it reminds me of this article I wrote few months back. It was in fact my second article. So here you  go:

9.00: I wake up. It is a holiday. Well, I am a late riser when it comes to holidays. I get up only when my scrappy sister kicks me out of the bed. She kicks me because she wants to start her day by “dancing in the bed”.

9.30: I freshen up and eat poha* for breakfast. The scrappy sister runs around the house and announces that we have to all go for her friend’s birthday party today. I suddenly remember that we will be going to my mother’s friend’s daughter’s birthday.

9.35: I start sulking about how I get bored in these chota baccha** parties and how I don’t have any company and how I am stuck with a bunch of either 8-year-olds or 30- year-olds. I understand that if we are extremely close to the family, we must go, but this was unnecessary. The scrappy sister tells me how I can play the Barbie game with them. My mother also tells me how I can enjoy with the adults group by talking about the latest movie or some random people I don’t even know. I refuse saying that I am better off with my book.

5.30: After an exciting day filled with movies, Whatsapp, sketching and music, it is time for the boring birthday.

6.00: We reach the party venue. I am surrounded with a group of people I see only once a year during this birthday. I excuse myself and go and grab a chair to read my book. Suddenly some stranger comes and tells me how I have grown so big and the last time they saw me I was the size of a mosquito. Seriously? Even a new born child is not the size of a mosquito. Did you see me when I was in my mother’s womb?

6.30: I look up finally. For the past 30 minutes I was lost in the world of my book. Dinner is served. I am a big foodie, so the primary reason for which I came to this boring place is to eat food. I go and take a plate of food. When I ask for more, the lady who served me food gives me a horrid look.

6.31: I put the first morsel of food into my mouth and realise that my dress is wet! I look up to a small child who has filled my beautiful dress with vomit and has her eyes on my food. I am horrified! I decide that to save this plate of food so that I don’t have to see the face of that lady again.  I get up and then suddenly realise that my plate was on my lap and I never picked it up. So, even before I think of the solution, I am in a pile of pav bhaji, bhel***,cake and vomit.

7.00: I wash my dress until the vomit smell is gone. I go to my mother with a wet dress and shabby hair and pull her out of her conservation with the other mothers about how their neighbour shouts on her children. I tell her that I have to leave this place now and cannot stay here one moment now or else who knows, someone might vomit on my hair! She tells me to calm down and wait till she finishes her food (which would take another hour after all the gossip included in it).

7.05: I go to my father and tell him about my situation. He says we can leave. I am very relieved!

7.30: We are back home. I take a long bath and throw away one of my favourite dresses as it has pav bhaji stains on it.

          I just hope  I wouldn’t have to tolerate all this next year too. I just don’t know why we teenagers should attend a baccha party and play ring-a-ring -a roses or passing the parcel. And the hosts even expect you to be happy when you get a Doraemon toy! I really wish that that Doraemon toy would work the way it worked in the show. I would make my duplicate from his gadget and would escape the less boring, but very scary birthday party. 

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*poha- an indian breakfast dish 

**Chota baccha - small kids

**pav bhaji, bhel - Indian snacks