She woke up to the chattering of utensils in the kitchen, outside her closed room, where her parents were whispering to each other, as if they were planning to rob the house. She sat on her bed, which was when she saw the “Happy Birthday” hanging on the wall opposite her, like an inverted rainbow.
The door opened slowly, and once they made sure that she was awake, her parents rushed into the room and wished her. She flashed her teeth sleepily at them. She was finally five years old.
She walked around in slow motion, till her mother fast forwarded her. She stared at blank spaces, as if every molecule of air was wishing her a very happy birthday. She wore her favourite dress, and matching accessories. She was the only colour movie, among the other monotonous black and white movies. No need to wear socks or shoes, which meant her feet would not have to die of asphyxiation. But her mother avoided white dresses. Her mother knew very well that being the careless child she was, by the time she came back home, she would’ve practised art on it.
Then came the most important moment, when she would be handed her box of chocolates. But she would not give anybody more than one chocolate, except for two people – her best friend, and anybody who gave her more than one chocolate on their birthday. It was a silent deal – if you give me 2 chocolates on your birthday, then I will give you two chocolates on mine. Her classmates would do anything to get in her good books for the extra chocolates. But then she always counted the number of chocolates, and calculated how many will be left after distributing it among her classmates. But then there were those teachers who would just take so many chocolates at a time, driving a road roller over your dreams.
Next came the birthday party – and with it, colourful gifts. She freshened up, and changed her clothes. Her mom was setting the table, and her dad was placing five candles on her cake. She slowly sneaked up to the table, and reached out for the plate with chocolates. Her mom never lets her near the plate – she felt like a 70 year old diabetic. After all, it was her birthday. She had every right to eat as many chocolates as she wanted.
After the cake cutting, the eating and the games, she waited for everybody to leave – so she can open her gifts in privacy. But some people are like those stubborn politicians who just won’t retire. They take forever to leave.