Birthday Blues and I Cut my Cake

You know, yesterday it was my birthday and we had this whole cake thing, those pretty lights and pretty food thing! The cake had pink and white flowers and I cut the cake with a sandwich knife that I could find and I put it inside my mouth. I felt great. I didn’t have to share it with anyone. I didn’t have funny people singing birthday song for me. I felt it right. It sounded like a right thing to do. You know, eat the cake and end your birthday and yoohoo! You are 22-year old loner, where 21years of lunatic years made me sane. It’s quite an epic! Just for me.

I am 22 but this time I feel like I have lived forever. I have grown old, you know- old, tired, weary, lonely, cranky and lots of grey hair. I have a grandson and two granddaughters but I don’t know whom I am married to. I must have forgotten, maybe I had a husband and maybe he passed away a few years back. I have forgotten it seems like. I don’t remember what really happened to me. But my heart is more brittle than my bones. It could break anytime or has it already. It could have.

I have been asking myself a lot of questions. Where are my kids? Where did they run away? Were they scared of me or were they ashamed of me? Which one of them could possibly have been the reason? I should stop reassuring myself. Of course, they were ashamed. How could I not know that. Its funny, I am funny. I am the non-rhetorical joke, that people don’t get it.
But you know, I used to love my kids but I must have forgotten how to love them now. Life was pleasant. It was infact, rosy with showering petals and dried leaves. Then I saw, I was becoming older and not much insane. It’s a poorer joke to be insane. How on earth can someone be insane? I wouldn’t. I don’t. I am a good person. I don’t care about people. I let people live the life they want. And they leave me. I leave them too. You see, I am a good person. I don’t complain and I let things happen on it’s own. I let people make me unhappy too. I let people not understand me. I am happy and being so happy is tragic, sometimes.

In these years of living, I have come across quite a lot of people. Out of that quite a lot of people, I have quite a less number of people I call friends. Out of that quite a less number, I have very few, I call friend friends. These are the living blocks of my life that I haven’t forgotten much about. The rest are my kids and grandson, granddaughters, etc. to whom I am a kid myself. They have taken care of me while I haven’t taken care of them. No wonder, I have chosen to not remember the bad things I did. The remaining are my lovers and I have loved myself for the entire part of my life. If somebody tried to kill me, I could kill myself to save myself. You know, the pseudo- narcissist thing! I love me, I do I do, I know I love me… yeah that thing!

Besides the living blocks of my life, the feelings that I associated with these little events that occurred throughout my lifetime, are what fascinated me.
What do you feel when everybody is around you but nobody is there with you?
What do you feel when you have so many things to feel sad about but you know it, you have to be happy about sad things?
What do you feel when you have to let go of something that you have loved for your lifetime?
What do you feel when you always dream of dying and you wake up everyday and find yourself alive?
What do you feel when you don’t wish to live but you love yourself so much that you choose to live the despair?
What do you feel when you choose to remain silent?
What do you feel on a sunny Sunday afternoon?
What do you feel on a late Sunday midnight?
I shall wait for my Sunday midnight, today. I shall look at the moon and ask myself a few more questions, before other people ask me. I am too slow to come up with lies. I need to prepare my answers. If I don’t, people will make fun of this old woman. They used to call me an old fool. Now they will call me an old fool who doesn’t know how to lie. I could be so bad with my words, you cannot think. Even if my kids have run away, I can lie people that I have killed them. But what really happened to me is what concerns me now. I must have forgotten so many things of my past. I know things that are gonna happen to me in my future. I shall be an old, tired, rich, weary, cranky woman with lots of grey hair, living alone in my big castle.

Wish me happy birthday!

Photo Courtesy: Chris Plummer

1 comment
  1. Well happy b'day. This seems to be a better place to wish you. Better than Facebook.Most random, but I read today that silence is most often misinterpreted, but can never be misquoted.

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