Birthday

Birthday comes once a year. The young boy Mothu, living with his mother, grandfather and grandmother would start waiting for his next birth day as soon as the present one was over. He remembers his last birthday, when a week before the day an old priest (Bhai ji) arrived from the village, the room on the ground floor, actually the only livable room on the ground floor was set up for some occasion it seems. Mothus mother dusted the room, moved out the four chairs and the cot to the big aangan ( a space for 'nothings' and passage to the living quarters' )at the back of the house and arranged in a corner there into a pile. The cow, Biro was tethered in another corner. A flight of stairs lead to the first floor. The aangan was the largest space at the back of the house. It also had a big mezzanine running along two sides accessible by a make shift bamboo steps. There were 15 steps to the first floor, the living quarters of the family. The stairs led to an open kitchen. Mothu generally spent his time in the room left of the kitchen, where his mother and grandmother were having their cots or palangs. The other room was grandpa's room with his palang, a small table and an account book. Grandpa was always at this table, lit by a small electric lamp, before going to bed. In his very steady hand, he could pen the complete months household accounts in a single page and move on to the next in the following month. At the end of the month he would declare to all, the balance sheet of the month. The profit (savings) or loss generally varied between Rs. 10 to 30. Most of the year he was able to balance his books in green. The moment there was over expenditure, the next month will find the drastic cut in all the sundry expenses.

Mothu loved to go to the roof of the house. It had a small covering in the corner of the roof. He would watch the birds flying around above his head while he lay on the bed in the morning. He would join the birds - the small black sparrows - in their flight and fly with them in circles over and over again. The noises from the kitchen, grandpa making curry paste, grandma churning the yoghurt for the butter and mother fetching water from the community tap in the street and pouring into the storage tank, a recess in the kitchen wall, gave Mothu a complete activity picture down stairs. Suddenly from this background he will hear – Mothuuuuu, come down, time for the school. He wanted to savor the days when he was not to leave his birds and the sky, get out of the bed for going to school! But he could not remember the days when he was young enough and was not enrolled in the school. It seems like all good times this period also lasted for a short while in Mothu's life and he was not able to calendar it precisely. But now any good thing he remembers very well and tries to experience the same by keeping the events stored in his imagination. Though sometimes he cheated, as he found that what he was remembering actually got changed for the better in two or three repeat runs in his memory. May be his mind like a computer, was enhancing and rearranging the contents of his memory, for a better effect.

He ran down the stairs straight to the ground floor room and found a big cotton carpet and the old man from the village having his break fast of a big tumbler of milk, paranthas and freshly churned butter. Mothu, said Sat Sri Akal to everybody and was immediately pushed by his mother to the bathing place, a corner near the water outlet in grandpa's room, quickly scrubbed, dried up and put on fresh clothes. In the winter of Feb. in north of India, this was not his idea of starting birthday festivities. His grandpa and Bhaiji were ready. All three walked through the streets of the city for a mile and reached Mr. Prem Singh's house. Prem Singh was a relative who was seen only on occasions like this, when we needed to carry the holy book from his house to our place, for open paath or readings. These were performed by Bhai ji over one week culminating into singing of hymns and many guests attending that occasion. Grandpa placed the book over his head and Mothu was asked to sprinkle water in front till all three reached home. In the middle of the room the book was placed on a special stand, looking more like a child's sleeping place with all the small cushions and scarves. Bhai ji started chanting shabad and sat down to start the open paath to continue till Mothu's birthday.

It was a new experience for Mothu, whole day Bhai ji was sitting and reading incomprehensibly the words from the big book. Mothu will peep into the paath room and hear a sound as though many bees were singing and dancing. He was strictly told to pay his obedience first by touching his forehead to the ground, in front of the book. There was a white cloth flowing out in front, from the covers of the open book. There were flowers put there and a small tray on the ground on the while sheet to put in the offerings of money. On the right on a small side table, a brass vessel had some sweets as prasad. After bowing the head in front of the book and a clockwise round around the holy book, everyone got a little prasad. Mothu observed that as soon as an elderly visitor from the neighborhood came, Bhai ji will start doing the paath in a very clear and loud voice. These people will always put in the plate of offerings few coins while bowing their head in front of the holy book. Generally there will be a sizeable crowd of five to ten people, mostly women in the afternoon for an hr or so. Women had time at hand to spare at those hrs and had this function at Mothu's place to utilize the time and feel good.

A day before Mothu’s birthday, the guests from neighboring villages and also from the far neighbor hood in the town stated arriving. Arrangements were being made for the guests to stay. All the palangs were carried to the roof top. The wall to wall mattresses gave the look of two big palangs to these two rooms, where dozens of people could sleep. Grandpa’s aunt also arrived from the village, and nephew came from another village with his son. There were guests from grandma's side; sister's son arrived with a potli of hot gur, favorite of Mothu's mother. Mithai maker came from the bazaar with his two assistants and started digging the ground for oven in the neighbor’s house on the small vacant space where Mothu and other children used to play every evening. This evening, all his friends were busy being part of the birthday preparations and did not miss their playing space usurped by the halwai his assistants and cooking utensils. Mothu had never seen her mother being so busy in organizing and cooking food for so many guests. Halwai was preparing only for the lunch the next day. As soon as it was dark, Mothu was insisting to have dinner saying that he is feeling asleep. Mother understood that he needs an excuse to play on the big bed organized on the floor for guests to sleep. Once he got the permission he managed to sneak in his friend on the "bed" and started rolling from one end to another. The excitement brought out strange noises and sounds from their throats. And soon the house hold felt disturbed by the cries of these beasts they were asked to close the eyes and sleep. A sure thrashing was spared for the sake of birthday boy having fun.

Next morning, after a thorough bath and scrub and set new of clothes on, the family priest arrived. And as soon as she saw him under the morning sun falling from the window, immediately commanded evil spirits to go away and let the best be there from now on wards for this young boy. She was amply rewarded by Mothu's grand ma. All the guests and Mohu's family of four assembled in the paath room below. Mothu sat in his mother’s lap and was given gifts, mainly the currency notes of Rs. 2 or 1. Mothu's Rakhi sister from the street was also sitting besides them. A group of two Bhai ji's came with Mr. Pritam Singh and his son and after paying their respects sat on the left side of the holy book. Mothu was watching that they had brought big bundles wrapped in cloth with them. First a harmonium came out, then a pair of drums. Immediately hymns singing began and for the next one hr, Mothu found almost everybody except his friends with closed eyes listening to the songs. Already a big vessel of piping hot halwa - kadah Prasad - covered under white muslin was resting on the table. Its aroma was disturbing the kids and many of them were salivating and trying to keep their urge to splurge under control. Kirtan lasted an hr. Bhai ji, Mothu knew, was already on the last page of the book. An ardaas or prayer was done by one of the singer Bhai ji. Grandpa gave him a piece of paper and while doing the ardaas he looked at the paper many times and pronounced Mothu's long school name. Everybody, he found was looking at him benignantly. Mothu had a feeling - never had so far - of importance being in the eyes of so many people.

Prasad was distributed and Langer was served. Mothu and other children were enjoying serving the guests sitting on the floor in the room where paath was for the last one week. The book had already been carried on the head by grandpa on the first floor and kept with maryada (respectful ritual)in one of the almirahs. By evening all the guests were gone, grandpa was back with his account book entering all the expenses and what ever gifts came. Bhai ji was staying over for the night and was already gone the next day before Mothu woke up. He kept lying on the bed and could here only the old sounds of his family. He was quiet and felt sad on the absence of noises and hum drum of the last one week. He was wondering when this will happen again, may be next birthday!

Mothu grew up to become a scientist and worked in a govt lab 1000 miles away from his small town. That birthday celebration got never repeated again. May be the profit and loss balance in grandpa’s book got out of control that month and put a stop to this kind of extravaganza. However, his every birthday till he was 12 years old used to bring a surprise celebration for him. Some birthdays were with the feast of the specialties by his mother, hot puris, kabuli gram, dahi bhalla with special red sweet sauce and kaddu bhaji. She will call Mothu's friends and goad them to have their fill. His rakhi sister and her mother always used to be around as guests and helping hands. The food was distributed to the neighbors in the street. All the neighbors had relative tags; ladies were chachis (aunts) to Mothu. Mothu used to go to four more close neighbors’ houses with the covered plates of full meal and in turn will get their blessings on his birthday. Another year it will be lady sangeet on the eve of his birthday, again a festive like atmosphere with Mothu at the centre of universe.

Today young Mothu wonders, for a child like Mothu, juxtaposed between three generations, may be he had all his insecurity set aside because of the importance, blessings and variety celebration in his formative years birthdays.