Ageing disgracefully

Courtesy - Ray Album

You know your friends fear you, when they start wishing you days ahead.   You get irritated and explain that they are a tad early and you are in no hurry to get older. So they repost the same message with the date next to it. Ok...I get it...you are desperate not to forget!

But then someone senses your irritation and tweets about it. And before you can say bwaaah, everyone is demanding a treat.  You retort with a You feast, I will pass the bill and secretly pat yourself at the back for this smart retort. 

The husband has been asking you for weeks So what do you want, honey?  You hmm and haw and look as vague as possible because you don’t have a effing clue. Actually you expect him to surprise you.  But you have conveniently forgotten that the first thing you told him after you got married was Darling, I hate surprises!  The poor fella is hopelessly out of practise and eventually needs your assistance for that special surprise.

On D day, when your phone starts ringing the first thing in the morning and you realize you have too many elderly members in your family. But then you are up too, sipping your morning tea and passionately cussing ministers for killing the sports bill.  Now your mobile is buzzing non-stop. You are delighted that so many remember your birthday and even more delighted that so many strangers know it as well. When you signed up for FB and put up your date of birth, you certainly weren’t expecting privacy were you?    As the day warms up, you are buried under an avalanche of greetings. You now feel like a bot that spouts 18 thank yous every 30 minutes. You have clicked on the like button so many times; you are worried that the FB team might demand a facilitation fee. 

You are basking in the attention and the pampering by your family. But try as you might, you can’t get rid of the pesky thought that the first person to text you was your Life Insurance Company – wishing you a happy and a secure life, Madam Ray. And many of your friends have expressed their desire that you have a blast. Then you read about the blasts in Pakistan on Twitter. You are now filed with dread – are they really my friends or wannabe terrorists!  

However deep down you know that even if Mark Zuckerberg brings FB wall down like the wall of Berlin. Even if your parents after an all night Satsang are now filled with remorse for procreating... Even if your friends are too stoned to remember they have a fiery friend....Even if your pals, relatives stop caring for you... your Life Insurance Company and bank will never forget your birthday.

And just as you have stumbled upon this profundity, a much younger friend texts you to ask So how was your day!  WAS you fume; it’s f***ing 6.15 in the evening!  Now you are livid.  You ask the husband to uncork the sparkly and demand a wine cocktail.  You open your wardrobe, take out the not so little black dress and paint your nails a glittery pewter.   Darling you coo, We must go to the night club after dinner at Ummami.  

The wine cocktail is potent and you are bathed in a happy glow.  You daughter waves her fingers at you and asks...Mum how many fingers and you manage to mumble, I am dwunk! 

You smirk as you punch in...Aww comeon! It’s six in the evening, my day has just begun! Kids I tell you....