36-hours

It was the month of November, and the year was 2019. It was the birthday of one of my closest friends. While she resided in Mumbai, having recently started working for a corporate firm, I was in San Diego — studying. Gifts were sent, and messages exchanged of how she held a dear position in my life — but the time difference and a working day meant that we were unable to talk over the phone for longer than two minutes. On the same day, about two hours before her birthday ended, I was surprised to see her message pop-up on my phone. There were telltale signs in her messages that she was having a horrible day — and that led to a half-an-hour conversation over the phone. She was in a new city, around people she had met just a few weeks prior; it was a working day, and office formalities didn't offer her any celebration other than the meet-and-greet birthday wishes! She had planned to reward herself with a dinner at a fancy restaurant with the money, and more importantly the effort that was a culmination of 22 years of her existence. Instead, she was in office till 9:30PM. The irritation, and frustration in her voice was apparent, and rightly so — birthdays bring with them unsaid expectations and desires, aplenty! I would like to believe that the conversation provided some comfort to her, for at the end she was atleast back to smiling ways — the least, and yet most important trait of a celebration. That experience she had had got me thinking — my birthday was six months away — far enough you would say — but given how reticent I am while trying to form new friendships with people (read strangers), meant that I had made very few friends in the last two months I had been in the States. More importantly, for the first time, my birthday was not going to be part of the summer vacations, and instead, I would have classes at university, given that there was a different academic cycle followed here. I began wondering how that day would be — away from friends, from family — and it failed to raise my hopes. A few months later, come March, the virus announced itself.

In the last four months, since the thought had crossed my mind, I had developed a special bond with a friend here in the States — and that single dynamic was more than enough to take me through most days, and keep me happy! With restaurants closing down, and me being extra(?) alert with my day-to-day activities, I barely left my house (as was advised), and that inadvertently got me thinking of how I would celebrate on D-Day. I wonder if it's just me or does everyone think days into the future — trying to plan, and re-plan, and think and re-think, how they would behave on a particular day. It's fascinating how days-and-calendars — a phenomenon invented by our ancestors, makes us experience the whole-circle of emotions while contemplating the future. 

The mind started ticking, and with still a few weeks to go, I had decided what I wanted to do! I was going to cook Pav Bhaji — the dish for which I could potentially sacrifice a lot of other seemingly important things. I have been cooking for a while now, given that students outside India don't have the luxury or the facilities to get ready-made food of their liking. But making sure I captured the authenticity of the best (not debatable) dish of India was not going to be an easy task. Nevertheless, I knew that it was this project that I wanted to undertake, and that it would more than suffice to bring a smile on my face! But the mind is a tricky place to reside in — and expectations naturally creep in. With multiple acquaintances having their birthdays during the quarantine period, I would see people posting pictures and videos of their Zoom-Calls and gifts prepared by their friends. Given the changing tide of circumstances across the world, this had become the trend, and I naturally expected my friends to plan something — nothing too fancy, but somehow birthdays have become a source of validation and I had long fallen prey to this culture. 

It wasn't the first time I was going to celebrate my birthday in a different time zone, having earlier been in Taiwan for my 20th birthday. While the Taiwanese led India by a mere 2.5h, the US is lagging behind (pun intended) by 12.5h. This meant that wishes started pouring in from 11:30AM a day before — mostly from acquaintances who were unaware of my whereabouts. And yet, those small-quaint conversations started having their effect on me. A couple of hours later, in the heat of the afternoon, the bell rang, and naturally I ran to the door. I didn't know who was going to send what, but I had the excitement of a small-kid waiting for his father to return from work — as I dashed to find out what it was. A cake! I had completely forgotten that birthdays are associated with cakes — as that was nowhere on my agenda for the day (well, the next day). It's amazing how the mind forgets the fundamentals of events, when those traits somehow cease to be important to you — and a cake was not something I expected — a present, courtesy of my cousins! 

I have had the fortune of meeting some wonderful people during my undergrad days, and one of the most inspiring souls happened to have his birthday a day before mine — the 14th of May. It had been a while since I spoke to him, but never have I ever (good show it seems) not smiled while talking to him — just the effect his words and personality have on me! Both of us had exchanged birthday wishes within hours of each other, and out-of-the-blue we decided to have a Zoom-call that afternoon. The call lasted for an hour, the smile returned, and I was left inspired as ever! There are people out there that exist with the sole reason of giving you perspectives you never could imagine of, and lead you on trajectories — both for the mind and physical being, that change your life, for the better. 

It was 3PM now, and I had to start on the project that I had been dreaming and re-living in my head for the past few weeks — actually cooking the dish. I wanted to make it a day prior, so that I could be mentally prepared if I failed to create something satiating enough for my taste-buds. I had seen plenty of videos in the last few days, spoken to experts (women in my family), and I was game! Describing a meal prep would be better suited for a video, and I wouldn't be doing justice with my words. But a three-hour-long (yes it took three hours) story cut short — cutting the veggies, stir-frying them till they got the right color, adding spices, and finally baking the bread was under the video surveillance of my aunt, who thankfully stays in the same time-zone! I put a spoonful of the bhaji in my mouth — it tasted fine — the thing with hot dishes is that it takes a while for the taste to seep in, and although I couldn't fathom the entirety of what the bhaji had in store for me, I knew it was going to suffice for my birthday — given that I had made it for the first time. It was then that I took the Pav out of the oven, and I knew what all the fuss about freshly cooked bread was — it smelled fresh, and as I took a bite, I knew..I just knew.. It was a success and I was elated! I rushed to my friend's house — outside her window, as had become a trend for the both of us — quarantining meant that I would randomly pop-by outside her window — old school much! My face was wide open, as if someone had put a hanger in there, as I failed to contain my excitement, and why so? I declared that the dish was a success, and my birthday too — and it hadn't even started here in the States! Often we wish someone had captured a photo to trap a moment, but for the others, they remain crystal clear in our memories, while sometimes words often suffice — and I hope this would do the trick years from now. There was something else that I realized after that 3h stint — what women go through each day, as they spend hours and hours with household chores — I was left with a backache after just a day of extensive cooking! The next time I ask my mom to prepare an elaborate meal, I know what I'll be doing — and I think you know what you need to do too..

It was 8:30 in the evening now. I was having conversations with people I hadn't spoken in a while, and I was thoroughly enjoying it. This birthday (which hadn't started yet) — felt so different, I was feeling extremely special — a feeling that has often eluded me in previous years. And now that I think of it, I don't really know why or what made it so different. In these moments of high adrenaline, I received two invitations — one from my family for a Zoom-Call at midnight, and the other from two of my closest friends — a custom made poster invitation to a Zoom-Call scheduled for the next morning! This sounds-nothing out of the ordinary, but the creativity of the poster got me wondering! As I go about writing this, I'm unsure of how many of y'all are still going to be reading it up till here and continue further, but each of these events was having an unparalleled impact on me — and I'm writing this more for me than for you, so that I can remember and relive it again, for it was special.

At midnight, when the clock in US finally announced that it was my birthday — I was on a video-call with my entire family! I don't think I've ever been wished by both sets of grandparents at midnight (well, it was afternoon in India, but you get the gist) — and I honestly believe that that would have been a very happy moment for them — to see their grandchild and be the first ones to wish me! The cake was cut, and I had it too, and the smile on my parents face said the rest!

I woke up the next morning (well, I was hardly able to sleep) all geared up to talk to the poster-friends! We have had a history of planning things a particular way, and this time around we put on a traditional ethnic attire for the call — yes, cheesy much! Just seeing them, when the call started, with the smile in their eyes, I knew there was something special! It's going to be hard for me to capture what followed, in a few words, or any words at all, but I'm going to try and do justice to what they had done!  They made a power-point presentation which was full of stories they had collected from my friends. Each story was preceded by a word (with missing letters) which was the crux of the story, and they had provided a one-liner hint for me to guess the word! I guess the word-and I get access to the story! Each story was followed by their own pressing questions as they tried to extract inside-stories and tid-bits from me! It was creative, it was time consuming, it was cute, it took a lot of effort, and did I mention, creative? There was a constant smile in their face, their voices had energy, their eyes were sparkling, and yet it was my birthday? They were enthusiastic, they were up past their bed time, they were loud, and yet it was I who had just turned 23? Ofcourse I thanked them, but the words could hardly do justice; I hoped tears would come, I wanted them to, but they didn't. The call lasted for two hours, and no sooner had we said our good-byes, than my heart started beating faster. I was in my room and I suddenly felt something pressing against my chest, from the inside. I was overwhelmed. Here, there were two people, who had put their heart and soul to make me happy! I, personally, have found it hard to be genuinely, purely happy for others — no matter how well or close they are to me. I do feel happy for people, but somehow a switch in me starts comparing and asks me to push myself to outdo(?) them. But talking to them, that morning, changed my belief. I realized what true happiness is — true happiness for others! I started respecting them more — it was as if I knew them better than ever before. Their hearts are pure, purer than mine ever will be — their eyes said it, their voice said it, their efforts said it — and my heart-rate said it — as it kept beating differently, against my chest..

Hint, followed by the story

It was 11 in the morning when the call ended. You've got to believe me when I say that I had a heavy-heart. I was unsure of what was happening and was overwhelmed with emotions. I tried to sleep for a bit, but was unable to. I needed some fresh air and I went for a walk, I had to. I must have been outside for about 30m and it was only then that I was able to comprehend what had just happened. This was special, the day, these people, everyone. I felt blessed — a feeling that we often take for granted. I returned home, had lunch (not the Pav-Bhaji just yet), and tried to sleep (ya I tried to sleep on my birthday a bit too much), but was unable too. I was suddenly feeling very alone and isolated, in my house. I couldn't stand the thought of being enclosed in 4-walls with no-one to talk to. There was anxiety, and again, an increased heart-rate. I immediately made a call to my window-friend and asked her if she was free — and I was at her house. This was weird, and ironic. Just hours before I had been made to feel so special and loved, and now all-of-a-sudden I felt alone. Is there an explanation of emotions, or do they just drive us without a hand-book? 

The rest of the day was spent at her place, and I felt much more assured and relaxed — I just needed to be around someone. I had recorded the the conversation that I had had with my poster-friends and I couldn't help contain my excitement as I told her about them, describing each and every thing, as I reminisced an event that was just a few hours old! It was then that I was bombarded with yet another surprise — my friends from my coaching class (back during school days) had prepared a Karaoke (or well tried to) to the tune of "Yeh Dosti Hum Nahi Todenge". How cute are people, I wondered. To what extent to people go to show their love and affection? I failed to fathom any of this, I was losing out on words and was filled with gratitude.

Finally, I had the Pav-Bhaji for dinner. The same dish that was supposed to be the cornerstone of my birthday. The event and activity that I had planned for weeks. And somehow it had become so trivial, pushed to the end of the day, and the mind. It no-longer mattered how it tasted, there were other more important things in life — things I can sacrifice Pav Bhaji for — people for whom I can sacrifice it..

beautiful